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May 31, 2006
Confidential to sabele
Now that my memory is returning, I think the song might have been "Wind Beneath My Wings."
Broken, like my heart
This is my smallest digital camera, the waterproof one, the one I take cycling and running with me. No idea how it broke. It still takes pictures, but since it has no see-through viewfinder, it's basically useless. I'll have to send it in for repair and hope for the best. Luckily I have other cameras, but none as small, light and fast as this one.
May 30, 2006
Trouble in Paradise
Oh, how I crack myself up sometimes.
This is (was) Paradise Drive.
It rained a LOT here in March and April, so much that roads all over the Bay Area developed sinkholes and washed away into creeks or down cliffs. In the last several weeks of riding we have seen many fresh crescent-shaped patches on the sides of roads, countless crumbling potholes, and a few places like Paradise Drive where they haven't even tried to make repairs yet.
Paradise Drive is a shady, winding road that circles the Tiburon peninsula. It offers postcard-perfect glimpses of the Bay, the Golden Gate Bridge, San Quentin Prison (which is sort of pretty from afar), downtown San Francisco, and the lifestyles of the affluent residents of Tiburon. The Paradise Loop is probably the most popular weekend bike ride for San Francisco cyclists. It's my default route when I don't want to think about it. ("I need to do 40. Where do you want to go?" "Eh, Paradise? Again?" "I guess so, OK.") Now the road is closed off by big barriers on either side of the above crater, but cyclists and pedestrians can clamber around or over them to get by. And obviously we do.
May 29, 2006
Biking, biking, biking, plus some mad running
What a nice weekend! I rode my bike a total of 165 miles over the last three days, with rides of 81, 46 and 38 miles. Plus a 3300yd swim and a short run for good measure. The 81-miler was plagued by beastly wind. As in, 30mph headwinds on the hardest, most exposed climb of the ride. (Marshall Wall for those who know the area. It's called the Wall for a reason.) uhhggggghhhh. But the two shorter rides were perfectly beautiful, and I find myself... strangely enough... wanting to get back on my bike again tomorrow. Weird!
Super big congratulations to everyone who ran the Mad City Marathon this weekend in punishing conditions. Especially to Heather, who finished her first marathon and did an awesome job despite the crushing heat. It was so hot that the organizers closed the course 1.5 hours early. Yikes.
May 25, 2006
TrackBack Attack
I publish this site using Movable Type 3.2. It does an excellent job of detecting and sequestering comment spam -- you know, all the ads for gambling and porn sites that try hard and fail miserably to look like genuine comments. "I finds your blogg very interesting! Come play Texas Holdem blackjackk craps with me!" Most of it goes automatically into a separate Junk folder, and the few that do slip through are flagged as needing approval before they get posted. I go in about once a week and delete them all.
But I had never paid attention to my TrackBacks. Quite by accident I peeked into the TrackBack junk folder the other day, and to my horror there were nearly 5,000 entries in there. Before I deleted them, I exported a list of the titles and ran it through the very cool Wordcounter to see what the most commonly occurring words were. My wild guess was "poker." Here are the top 20 words and the number of times they occurred:
| poker | 959 | craps | 122 | |
| online | 720 | party | 103 | |
| casino | 615 | video | 101 | |
| free | 344 | roulette | 86 | |
| blackjack | 190 | loans | 85 | |
| texas | 186 | cheap | 84 | |
| holdem | 177 | insurance | 77 | |
| pacific | 134 | tramadol | 69 | |
| buy | 131 | empire | 59 | |
| play | 125 | rington | 57 |
Surprisingly, "Viagra" and "sex" barely missed the top 20, ranking 22nd and 25th.
And someone doesn't know how to spell "ringtone." Morons.
UPDATE: I've gotten 16 new TrackBack spams in the two hours since I did the mass delete. OY.
May 22, 2006
Beer to Breakers
Yesterday we watched Bay to Breakers for a few hours in the morning. For the unfamiliar, B2B is an annual tradition in San Francisco. It's a 12k running race in which about 10% of the 60,000+ participants are actually running and the remaining 90% are traipsing around in costume, pushing human-powered floats, drinking beer, running naked, running the course in reverse, drinking beer, pushing shopping carts containing kegs, smoking, drinking beer, or any combination of the above. (Tons of photos here.)
I've walked and run B2B a few times, but never watched the whole thing from the rabbits up front to the drunks at the end. And I have to say, while it was mostly hilarious, the very end was pretty disgusting. Don't misunderstand, I have no problem with a giant roving party involving large quantities of alcohol early on a Sunday morning. But I went for a short run toward the finish line and was horrified at how our beautiful park was trashed -- beer cans, pieces of costumes, and litter everywhere. Water cups and gu wrappers, I can understand, but the garbage-strewn street had that nasty, nasty beer-on-asphalt smell. No respect. Call me a grumpy old woman.
After my run I did a few too many push-ups and I am sore today. But that's OK, because it will only make my microphone-wielding muscles stronger. I did karaoke for the first time on the cruise we took last week, and apparently I am a microphone hog.
May 21, 2006
How to run a "surprise" hill workout
1. Get on a cruise ship.
2. Head for rough waters.
3. Go for a run on a treadmill in the ship's gym. Try not to slide off the back of the treadmill or bump into the front console or the handrails as the ship gently rolls and pitches.
May 16, 2006
Don't Overlook My Sheep
To most endurance-sports folk, DOMS means "Delayed-Onset Muscle Soreness." It's the familiar pain that peaks about 48 hours after a hard race or workout, a tough hike, an overambitious session in the weight room, a day of heavy-duty gardening, or an afternoon spent helping a friend move into a third-floor apartment.
I also suffer from a different type of DOMS: Delayed-Onset Movie Sadness. I finally saw Brokeback Mountain last weekend, and I was pretty devastated at the end. I shed a few tame tears during the credits, but as we parted ways with Julie and Brian at the second-run theater, I told Dave, "I am moments away from weeping." The feeling of grief overwhelmed me, not just for Ennis and Jack, but for everyone who has ever had to conceal or smother the most important things in their lives for fear of retribution. I also felt overcome by deep sadness for the people I love who now live, or lived, or died, immersed in isolation, fear, and utter loneliness.
I wallowed in that soggy-eyed feeling for most of Sunday; it hit its nadir Monday night when I bought the soundtrack on iTunes primarily to listen to that sorrowful slide guitar-y two-minute final track which -- gah -- until Saturday I had only heard in the Oscar orchestra rendition. (There are several fantastic country tracks on the album; the score tracks themselves are pretty good but not epic.) I also spent a while reading user-submitted stories of hidden and lost love on the film's official web site, which nearly brought me to tears again.
But today, I'm fine. Just a tiny bit sad. Just as if I had run a marathon Saturday night, the pain would have peaked last night, and I'd be 99% better now.
Near the end of the movie, I found myself thinking, why would anyone want to own a movie like this on DVD? It left me feeling so depressed, I couldn't imagine watching it over and over again. But now that I've recovered from the DOMS, I find myself wanting to watch it again for the amazingly acted moments of tenderness between the two cowboys and the awe-inspiring mountain scenery. Something about the journey made me want to repeat the trip, even though it left me beaten up, and I suppose that's why I keep running marathons even though I swear every one is my last when I'm at mile 25.
May 14, 2006
A very content Dave
How to make this guy happy: Baseball on TV, bike racing on the computer, bag of chips and a margarita on the table. Click on the photo for more details.
May 12, 2006
When Gatorade Endurance isn't enough
Leishia has thoughtfully alerted me to a sports nutrition product that I've never heard of. She suggested that since I love pickles, I might love Golden Pickle Juice, too.
To that I say: I love pickles, but I do not love PICKLE JUICE. And also: Gross. Does that glimmering yellow liquid not look a lot like pee in a bottle? Is it just me, or does the product name sound like the title of an adult film?
And do people actually drink this stuff? I've drunk room-temperature chicken broth on a hot day for its salt. But chicken broth isn't that salty. I'm pretty sure bottled pickle juice would make me puke. Putting liquid that's salty and acidic enough to preserve a cucumber into a stomach that's already under serious stress doesn't strike me as a great idea.
However, I would kinda enjoy wearing a t-shirt with "BIG DILL" printed on the back.
May 11, 2006
Let's take a look at the calendar, and then have a little freak-out
In three weeks I will be riding my first 100-miler since my last Ironman, which was nearly a year ago. My longest ride this year so far was 60 miles.
In four weeks I will be racing in a half-ironman. Ah, crap.
In five weeks I will embark on a 6-day, 419-mile bicycle tour of Colorado.
Ironman Wisconsin is in exactly four months. (Four months from yesterday, to be precise.)
EVERYTHING IS UNDER CONTROL. No need to panic.
Right?
May 10, 2006
Did you know you use your brain to ride a bike?
We drove all the way down to San Jose on Saturday to get a hit of big-screen cycling crack. And I mean big. We saw Wired to Win, a film about pro cycling, on the IMAX dome at The Tech Museum of Innovation.
Holy cannoli. What stunning photography. The film is projected 180 degrees onto the inside of the dome so it's like you're in the movie. I felt like I was riding shotgun in the camera helicopter as it swooped through the Pyrenees, following the Tour de France peloton as it wound through craggy mountain passes and those sunflower fields made famous by Graham Watson cycling calendars. I even felt a little seasick at times.
Cycling fanatics may recall that this film was originally supposed to be about Tyler Hamilton. But then Tyler had to go and test positive for blood doping. The filmmakers were stuck with all this very expensively procured footage of the 2004 Tour and a protagonist with a sullied reputation. So they turned lemons into lemonade and focused instead on Baden Cooke and Jimmy Caspar. (There was actually one shot of Tyler riding with a bandage over his collarbone, but they didn't identify him in the film.)
The film had a whole educational aspect about how the brain learns new things and deals with pain, synapses firing, amazing animation, yeah yeah yeah. But really it's about the mind-blowing scenery. And awesome footage of bike racing.
Dave uses his brain to admire a big light-up Earth at The Tech. I can hear the synapses firing! Oh wait, that's just my new cell phone vibrating.
I'm testing a theory
Take this "Programming Language Inventor or Serial Killer?" quiz (it's quick -- 10 questions), then post your results and your gender in the comments.
May 9, 2006
Discovering the point of maximum fatigue
I am seriously sleep-deprived after a week of early workouts. On Sunday Dave and I got up at 4:45am to drive up to Napa and volunteer at a sprint triathlon there. I lifeguarded during the swim from the comfort of a surfboard and Dave directed swimmers into T1 at the swim finish. Our volunteering duties were done by 8:45am so we hopped on our bikes for a gorgeous ride through the lush green hills.
Back at home, as I rolled my bike from the car into the garage, I noticed that the rear wheel was dragging. I lifted the bike and spun the wheel around; it went halfway around and then stopped. Wow, I thought, that wheel is really out of true. Upon closer inspection I discovered two big cracks in the rim where the spokes enter. It was as if those two spokes were tightened too much and the metal simply gave out.
Click to see more of the photo.
I didn't notice it while I was riding, but it would be a convenient explanation for how slowly I've been going up the hills lately.
I took the wheel down to my local bike shop, where they said it was probably normal wear and tear for a 20-spoke wheel with three years of use. I ended up buying a new set of wheels. No, Leishia, I did not get Ksyrium Elites. I got a cheaper, sturdier pair of Mavics.
And by the way, paddling around on a surfboard is harder than it looks. My ribs are tender and my back is very sore from lifting my head while lying on my belly for an hour. And I am very, very tired.
May 7, 2006
Relativity
I did a pretty darn difficult bike ride yesterday with my friend Jess. We did the Alpine Dam loop, which is known for both brutal climbing and stunning scenery. As we reached the ridge that marks the end of the super-steep part of the climb, we heard the sound of cheering crowds -- not a sound you expect to hear in a pristine national recreation area. At the top we learned that we were at the halfway point of the Miwok 100k ultramarathon. The runners had started at 5:50am. It was 11am when we arrived. They had been running for over five hours and they were halfway done.
I took a few photos of the runners and the trails. The views of the ocean from the road that follows the ridge were spectacular. Hills that are normally golden brown and licked with tendrils of fog were lush green and lit with brilliant sunshine. What a day.
It occured to me at some point that our 58-mile ride was shorter than what those runners were covering on foot. Wow.
May 4, 2006
All flowers, all the time
We've lived in our current home less than a year and we keep finding pleasant surprises like these blooming in the back yard.
May 3, 2006
Sabotaged
Some days I read Gourmet or Cooking Light and feel totally motivated to cook delicious, fresh food for dinner, pack up leftovers for lunch, and skip the trashy snacks that tempt me all day at work.
Then there are days like Tuesday. My dinner consisted of potato salad, gruyere cheese and brownies. HEALTHY!
I did feel a wee bit like it wasn't my fault. After work on Tuesday I went to Trader Joe's, where I do 90% of our food shopping, to stock up on fresh fruit and veggies and other good stuff. The shelves around the perimeter of the store were empty -- the shelves with all the produce, meat, bread, milk, etc. Handwritten signs explained that due to Monday's immigration demonstrations and labor walkouts, none of Tuesday's food deliveries came, and therefore there was NO FRESH FOOD. Oh, how I wish I'd had a camera to immortalize the empty, empty shelves. I imagine that the other markets in the city had the same problem. At least the ones that stock fresh food every day.
I'm not complaining about the demonstrations; I can shop for produce tomorrow. it just never occurred to me that they would have this effect. And I suppose that was the point.
May 2, 2006
An important work of food photojournalism
Here's a little photo essay from the wayback machine. Dave, my sister and I went to the Los Angeles County Fair on a blistering-hot September day in 2003. Walking through the entry gate, we swooned from the heat rising off the asphalt and the mingling aromas of meaty grill smoke and livestock waste. Man, it was hot. And meaty. It was a veritable meatwave. Undeterred, we set off on a mission to document the variety of junk food on offer, or more precisely, the foods that were deep-fried and/or impaled on a stick.
My sister and I used to go to the fair every year when we were kids. We have fond memories of riding the weird funhouse rides that folded up into semi trailers, visiting the the giant cows at the milking demonstration, and winning beer mirrors and crappy stuffed toys at that midway game that involves launching rubbery frogs onto plastic lily pads with a mallet. Back then, the only food that came on a stick was a corn dog. You can still get a Hot Dog on a Stick at the fair, but oh, how times have changed. Now they'll impale just about anything on a wooden spike, dunk it in batter and fry it up. Once again, I blame Scotland.
Vegetarians, beware: the photo set contains disturbing images of porcine creatures both live and... on a stick. A very big one.
May 1, 2006
Thank you, Dave, for not letting me spend the entire day inside
My knee hurts. Pretty badly. At the end of a spectacular 60-mile bike ride on Saturday, I got off the bike to realize that I was limping. So I decided against running or biking on Sunday, and stayed home despite gorgeous weather to do some cleaning. (I also baked some really good molasses-rye bread. mmmmm.) It was not a decision that made me happy, but I think it was the right thing to do.
Near the end of the day Dave convinced me to go for a little urban hike near our home. After cutting through the nearby woods on several unofficial trails, we found ourselves emerging from the eucalyptus trees into a clearing. We had discovered a lovely park that we never knew existed. It's up the (extremely steep) hill from the UCSF Medical Center. It's less than half a mile, as the crow flies, from home.
On this map it looks like just a bare patch of dirt, but right now it's a beautiful sunny meadow brimming with poppies and other wildflowers.
