Resolution?

Over the last month, no less than 4 people (might have been more - I have an ADD problem) have made mention of the fact that I'm a little angry...a little pessimistic...a little negative. I'm aware that I can be a bit of a cynic, but thought I had done a good job of covering some of the other stuff with humor. I could write a book on why, but instead I'll just let the people know that read this blog that I'm aware of it and am going to attempt to change my attitude. If you are reading this, and haven't just stumbled upon my page, then you should also know that you mean something to me because I haven't let anyone know about this except those close to me.

I read another blog by a guy I've never met in Colorado. He is a bicycle racer, but that's kind of beside the point. He also has an amazing way of showing appreciation for the simple (and not so simple) things in life - he's humorous, intelligent and optimistic. Last week he wrote this:

Live better.
Live fuller.
Live more creatively.
Live with blood in your veins, not vinegar.

Sounds like sage advice for 2008. If you see me acting otherwise, grab me (to make sure I'm listening) and remind me of it. Have a great year!

how much is this?

I couldn't make this up if I tried....

So, I'm in the Dollar Store buying stocking stuffers (and primary gifts for those I don't like, but have to buy a gift for). As the toothless woman is bagging my stuff this oriental lady (honestly, i'm not picking on her because of her ethnicity) behind me asks the cashier "How much is this?".....I shit you negative.

To the cashier's credit, she nonchalantly said "Everything's a dollar". Oriental girl looks happily surprised -Then she asks "Well, how much is this?".... I swear I almost took the dollar spatula I had just bought and slapped her till her eyes slanted vertically. Then I would have taken my dollar ball of twine and tied her up and lit her on fire with my dollar lighter. I would have written a eulogy on my dollar notepad with one of my ten-for-a-dollar pens. It would have simply read: "I died because I asked a stupid question."

This is the world I'm bringing my daughter up in. Please, God, look out for her.

my girl

OK, so I've posted a lot today. It's my day off and I'm trying to avoid Christmas shopping.

Olivia read me a letter she wrote to Santa last night (with help from her mom). I have no problem admitting that I had to wipe my eyes afterward. She is so excited. She's also writing so neatly and she decorated it with stickers.

I bought her a laptop for Christmas, but it's looking like it's not going to make it here in time. It really bums me out. I still think the charity is a great thing - they donate a laptop to a third world country when you buy one for your child. You can only do this until the end of the year, so check it out: http://www.laptopgiving.org/

Here's her pic with Santa:

lord of the pants

I just read that Michael Flatley (Riverdance) got $11 million from some false sex assault case. Apparently, some chick said he raped her in Vegas a few years back. The judge saw otherwise and ruled in favor of Flatley's countersuit....saying the sex was "consensual".

Uh...Here's a news flash -Dude, you're GAY! You dance with your shirt off in tight leather pants - not in a cool "what if Elvis took his shirt off?" way, but in a fluttery "Liberace with abs" kind of way. I don't care that you've had a baby and might have been married at some point. Hell, Michael Jackson got married and I'd bet my mortgage he'd rather have a 10-year old boy share his bed at the Neverland Ranch than a supermodel. Save the consensual sex for us heterosexuals, you douche bag.

Enjoy your 11 mil.....amazing.

(Sorry about that - hope your kids weren't reading this)

the lake

As I stated in a previous post, we rode INTO a LAKE at the Alabama race on Sunday. Here is a picture someone posted on the Bama Cross website. It actually doesn't do much justice. You can see the third rider is about to go into a hole....uh, there were several of these where your pedal would actually be under water. The last lap I figured out a pretty good line. Apparently these jackasses were watching and didn't make the same mistakes I did.

Cyclocross is the dumbest sport I've ever done....and I can't wait until next season.

***EDIT: A friend just sent me the second picture - this is classic, and exactly what I feared doing. Did I mention I couldn't feel my hands.....and they were DRY! Oh, and that it was blowing snow flurries. Poor guy is probably still waiting for his testicles to descend....

I'm phat

The cyclocross season is over. Unfortunately, people take a lot of pictures at cross races. At first, I thought that maybe there were some bad camera angles....but then I realized they all looked the same - I've got a belly.

Admittedly, I'm not riding a whole lot - a couple of times a week, then a race on the weekend. I've got to do some cross-training (no pun intended) and burn some calories during the winter. After 40 years of eating McDonalds, I'm gonna have to do something about my diet, too.

I'm not gonna weigh myself, the numbers don't mean anything to me. Just got to get more toned. If you see me out riding or running, throw me a cheeseburger...

The podium

Ask any athlete - getting on the podium (top 3) is usually a great result. I've been lucky in that just about every sport I've tried I've done pretty well in. I've made podiums in track & field, car racing, triathlons, road cycling, track cycling...hell, I've even won a No-Limit poker tournament in Las Vegas. Today I made the podium in cyclocross. It's the end of what has been an eye opening season.

Jay, Josh and myself made the trip to Cullman, Alabama to race the last of the BamaCross series. This was their state championship and offered double points for their series. Granted, the Alabama series is not as tough as the Georgia series. For some reason their riders just aren't of the calibur we find here in Atlanta. Nevertheless, you can only race who shows up.

Despite my mediocre finishes here in Georgia, I had seen some real progress in the last few races. I honestly went to Alabama expecting to finish in the top 3 - anything less would have been a disappointment.

Jay kicked ass, as I thought he would. We both hit the front from the gun. A side note - it was freakin' cold, blowing snow flurries, and this course was ridiculous. Anyway, Jay and I led the field for the first lap, shaking all but two local teammates. The course was muddy, - in fact we actually rode through two sections of a LAKE! It's hard to describe, but we actually rode in the water (almost up the hubs on our bikes) for about 40 meters. There was a lot of sloshing around, but I kept my bike up today - HURRAY!...it would have been pure hell to fall in the lake at that temp.

Jay's pace was too much and the guys I was riding with were happy with me setting the pace. My hands were nearly unmoveable by the second lap. I was having a hard time shifting the bike. One of the guys attacked and his teammate fell back. I chased for a lap to catch him, dragging his buddy back up. At that point, the other guy attacked and I just couldn't respond. I rode steady for the rest of the race, realizing that no one else was going to catch me if I kept the pace up. I made a lot of time up on the second place guy on the last lap, finishing about 10 seconds behind him. It felt good to feel my endurance returning.

Josh rode strong to finish 7th - a great day for our team. Everyone was referring to us as the "Georgia Boys". Interestingly, we almost didn't go. Our enthusiasm was getting lower the more we heard the forecast. It was bitingly cold. My hands still have a "buzzy" feel to them.

This is a much better way to end the season. It's been interesting and a lot of fun. It was the perfect culmination of an otherwise shitty week :)

Cheaters

No, the title isn't about the (gosh, I'm shocked) revelation today that a bunch of professional baseball players used steroids. It refers to the TV show.

I just rode for a while on my indoor trainer and was searching for something to watch on TV while I pedaled my ass off going nowhere. I settled on 'Cheaters'. Excuse the profanity, but fuck, what has the world come to? It made me sick to my stomach. If you haven't seen it, then you should. You'll consider cancelling your cable or satellite subscription.

This freaky looking goon helps some poor guy or girl find out if they are being cheated on. Apparently, the climax of the show is the "CONFRONTATION" - as in, "Up next, the CONFRONTATION!" It will make you laugh and probably puke, but is a lot like a car wreck - you can't look away. It's a half hour of my life that I'll never get back.

Random musings

It's the middle of December and I was mowing my lawn in shorts on Tuesday - another reason I love the south.

My daughter calls short-sleeve shirts "up sleeve" and long sleeve shirts "down sleeve". I don't correct her. Firstly, it sounds cute. Secondly, it's actually more accurate.... "Daddy, guess what? I'm wearing an up sleeve shirt under this sweater!"

I bought a fake Christmas Tree for the first time in my life. I thought I would have a hard time dealing with it... Uh, yeah, not really. There are no needles all over my floor. I haven't spilled a bunch of water trying to keep it alive until December 26th. The wire branches hold my old sentimental ornaments (which is really what it's all about) pretty well. Maybe I should buy a fake dog....

My life is not the best right now. I'm struggling trying to figure out what I'm going to do when I grow up, finances are pretty tight, and I'm feeling my age when I exercise. That said, my life is infinitely better than about half of my friends right now. I have too many people I know going through some really life changing things right now. I'm pretty damn lucky.

Don't promise a five year old girl something you can't deliver. In October I had a conversation with Olivia that went something like this:
Me: "Olivia, would you like it if I built a treehouse in that big Oak tree?"
Olivia: "A treehouse? That's cool."
Me: "OK, maybe I'll build one next spring."
.......fast forward to this past Monday......
Olivia: "Daddy, when will the treehouse be done?"
Me: "Hmmmm, I don't know. It will be in the Spring if you still want it."
Olivia: "OK, but we need to talk about it because I invited my friends over for a tea party in it."
Me: (under my breath) "Holy shit....what have I done???"

Whoever invented french fries and potato chips should be given a Nobel Peace Prize - because I'd f***ing kill someone if I couldn't have one of those at least once every couple of days.

There may be no worse feeling in sports (and I use the term loosely) than someone calling your big bet when you're totally bluffing during a poker game. Conversely, there may be no better feeling than pushing a guy off a great hand with absolutely nothing in yours.

Crocs on adult men look stupid and scream "yuppie dad"...too bad they are so damn comfortable.....and I'm wearing mine now.....and I'm wearing socks with them...and I may actually leave the house at some point today without taking them off....

I'm picking my kid up from school early today. Because I can. And because I won't be able to do it when she's 40.

The internet is awesome, but USA Today and a sausage biscuit in the morning rocks. As does a good beer and Outside magazine in bed.

In my opinion, you get what you pay for when you purchase a cheap pair of shoes, a cheap chainsaw or a cheap set of stereo speakers. Life's too short to not have quality in these areas.

Oh, the pain....

Today may have been one of the most painful days I've spent on a bike. Well, at least it's the most painful it's been since I got BACK on the bike.

It was the Georgia Cross finale in Dahlonega, GA. I dropped Olivia off at her mother's at 6:30am and drove to meet my teammate, Jay, just up GA 400. We got there early and had plenty of time to get acclimated to the course. We headed out on some reconaissance laps with Brendan. It was a TOUGH course, requiring us to get off the bike 4 times per lap....and the laps were short.

It was a little damp as we were doing our final warm-up lap. I was following Brendan on the last turn on the pavement before we hit the dirt. Brendan lost it and I almost hit him. We picked up his bike and made a few adjustments to it. Turns out Brendan had hurt his wrist. We rode the rest of the lap and he was obviously hurting. He had brought up the idea of running a very curvy, very downhill section because he thought it might be faster. Right after that part is a ridiculous uphill section that was so steep that you often had to stick a hand down to keep from falling. Brendan asked me to follow him and see if riding the section was any faster than running. I was all over him after he dismounted and it beame obvious that riding was faster. Unfortunately, he tweaked his hamstring during the effort and it looked like he might be giving up his series lead after the two freak accidents.

I felt suprisingly good during warm-up. At the start I hit the front, intent on riding with the usual 5 that always seem to seperate themselves from the rest of us. I led easily through the first few turns before the first set of barriers. What happened then is unexplainable. Somehow I hit the first barrier and sent my bike flying, with me landing hard between the barriers. I looked up to see the pack on every side of me. I picked up my bike, but my chain had dropped. I cleared the second barrier, bent down and worked my chain back on ....dead last.

The next 10 minutes was some of the best riding I've done since taking up this silly sport. I flat out hammered through the field - pissed off beyond belief. By the end of the first lap I was back up to eighth and looked up to see I was right behind Brendan. I pulled in front of him and told him we needed to catch the guys up front. I continued to ride well and Brendan and I seperated ourselves from everyone else - me riding 5th, Brendan 6th.

2/3 of the way through the second lap Brendan blew by me. I had exerted myself a bit too much in my anger and knew I couldn't go with him. I was still riding well and kept a gap of about 15 seconds over the 7th place rider.....then I dumped my damn bike again! It was low-speed and I was able to get back on without losing much time. I worked to regain the gap and seemed to be holding it.

With two laps to go we came to the dreaded downhill that Brendan had tried to run. I was in the last corner before you clip out to run up the hill and I lost the bike AGAIN!!! This time it was a yard sale - my bike was 30 feet away from me. I scrambled to get it and lost all the time I had and also partially rolled my front tire. I thought about going to the pits to get a new wheel, but knew it would take up too much time. I rode the last two laps alone in 7th, the wheel too sketchy to risk it in corners to try and catch 6th place. I wasn't a happy camper at the finish, but realized that when I had the bike upright I had ridden the best I had all year. I moved to 9th overall in the series (ironically, finishing 6th would have put me into 8th in the series by 1 point!)

Brendan miraculously won! All bandaged up, he made up about 25 seconds on the leaders and won it on the last lap, also securing the series championship. He just started racing last year and has done an absolutely amazing job this year. He is a very determined, extremely talented rider, that I'm glad to call my friend.

Jay rode a great race, too, finishing 4th. If not for a crash himself, he would have made the podium. While I crashed a lot, I am mainly bruised. There were a LOT of torn up bodies at the end of the day. The course extracted more blood than all the others combined!

Jay and I ended the day by racing the "A" race. It was and hour of utter pain. My back and hamstrings were fried. I suffered the whole hour. I lost my chain a half a dozen times. It was one of the dumbest decisions I've made. We had probably already wrapped up 3rd in the team standings by then, but I rode to make sure we scored the points necessary.

I'm pissed. I honestly think I had a chance to crack into the top 5 today. It all matters not, because I didn't. I'm so angry that I'm thinking about going to Alabama next weekend to do their series final. I feel like I'm finally getting in shape and don't want to end the season wondering if I couldn't have a better race. We'll see.

Ridin' Dirty

Don't know if anyone cares about my cyclocross racing, but this is how this past weekend went...

I arrived at 8:30, my typical hour and a half before my race began, registered, unloaded my bike and dressed. I was riding some borrowed wheels from my friend Brendan, which took a whole pound off the weight of my bike. Brendan happened to be there early also, and as has become our usual routine, we took a couple of laps around the course together trying to figure out the proper lines.

I knew since the race was being held in Blue Ridge that it was going to involve some sort of devilish climb...and I was not disappointed. I despise climbing. I was never a good climber when I rode a lot before, and I'm not now. There was a steep paved section that we rode on for about a quarter of a mile then a sharp left turn, over a small ditch, then up a grass hill that I would eventually run up each lap. There was a screaming downhill after that onto a gravel rode with a gnarly left hand off-camber corner. After that, the course started to suit me. Lots of flat fast corners and quick dismounts over barriers.

The race started and I screwed it up as usual. I could not get my left foot clipped into my pedal for about 50 meters. By the first turn I was sitting about 15th and got my front wheel clipped by another rider and almost went down. The hill was very early in the lap and I hit it pissed off and much farther back than I wanted to be. I stood up and passed about 6 riders in the first steep section, already into oxygen debt. I settled in with a group of about six and I watched the lead 5 riders open a gap of about 30 meters.

I survived the climb with the leaders still in sight, but concerned about what that hill would do to me if I stayed with the group I was currently with. I decided to really hammer the flat part so that I could climb the hill at my own pace - reacting to someone else's pace might send me to the edge of my lactic threshold. I managed to open a pretty good gap before we hit the climb again, with only one rider able to match my attack. About halfway up he attacked and I knew I couldn't match his effort. I let him go, content on trying to catch back up on the downhill and flats.

I spent the rest of the race riding at my limit - making up time on the rider in front of me, but not quite as much as he was gaining on the incline. I steadily put more and more distance on the guys chasing behind me so that my last lap was just a hard effort up the hill and rolling the last half to the finish. I ended up 7th, my best finish of the year. It also gave me enough points to slip into the top 10 in overall points, which is a huge accomplishment considering that I scored the absolute minimum amount of points during the first two races of the year.

Brendan won (again) and holds a pretty good hold on the series championship with one race to go. The top 5 riders are out of my league this year, but I am beginning to feel more competitive. Next weekend is the series finale in Dahlonega - with another hill, for sure. We (Peachtree Bikes) are currently third in the team standings, and barring any collapse will be on the podium next weekend. The finale offers double points, so there's a chance I could move up the individual standings as well. I'll settle for a top 10, but if I finish 6th I will consider it a major accomplishment and be very satisfied with my first season of this silly sport.

On Punctuality and Punctuation....

It's been brought to my attention that I have a couple of pet peeves that may be bordering on neurotic in my abhorrence of them. One of them is my obsession with being on time - the other is my radar-like ability to see apostrophes used incorrectly. Join me on the pscychiatrist's couch as I attempt to explain my psychosis.

Timeliness - I guess it all goes back to when I was 15. It was the first time I was allowed to go out with friends who had their driver's license. It must have been a school night because I believe I had to be home by 9:00. I arrived home at 9:05, greeted at the door by my dad who informed me that I was late. I protested saying that I had no control, someone else was driving. He grounded me for a week and told me that I should choose more responsible friends....

I can't remember not being obsessed with punctuality. My heart races when I'm late. I get warm and sweaty when there's even a chance that I'll be tardy for a dentist appointment. I spend more time planning a trip by time constraints and schedules than I ever spend actually packing. I go places alone because I don't want others to witness my nervousness.

It would be easy just to say that I respect people's time, but I'm afraid it goes deeper than that. On a positive note, if I say I'm going to be somewhere and I'm not, it's time to notify the authorities.

Punctuation:

Making something plural is usually done by simply adding an "s" to the end of said word. In some cases, you might actually add "es". (Here's where the pot begins to boil over). Since when the FUCK did it become acceptable to add an apostrophe "s" to signify plurality????!!!! I see it EVERYWHERE!!! "Hot Dog's $1.00", "Home's available", "All television's reduced", and most recently "Happy Holiday's". How completely stupid do you have to be to make this error?

I've seen it done on professional signs, in newspaper ads , even at an elementary school. There is an apostrophe "s" epidemic!

What agitates me even more is that it actually takes an extra keystroke to add that stupid apostrophe. When you're making that damn "Puppy's for Sale" sign you actually have to take your Sharpie and make an extra movement. Exactly what thing that the puppy owns is for sale, you friggin' moron??

If I were diagnosed with an incurable disease I'd spend the last week of my life on earth shooting people that use apostrophe "s" to make things plural, and stabbing people that think it's o.k. to throw that cigarette butt out their window.....but that's a whole other rant for another day.

Viva Knievel

I don't know if I can manage the strength to go into work today. The world seems like such a dark place right now. My childhood (and adult) idol, Evel Knievel, died last night, and, to quote Lewis Grizzard, "I don't feel so good myself".

Evel was more than a Wild World of Sports figure to me. He's the reason I jumped my bike off the four foot rock wall that lined my driveway growing up. I still have the scars to prove it. He's the reason I had to fish my bike out the pond about a half a mile from my home in a failed attempt to jump the gap where the water flowed down to a small stream. He's the reason I determinedly hauled my bike through the front door, up the stairs and out the window of my parents' bedroom and sat precariously balanced on the ridgeline of our first floor roof. I straddled my bike and sat there, heart racing, wondering to myself "What Would Evel Do?".

I was pearched on that roof for what seemed like a half an hour, seriously contemplating the ramifications of what a 10 foot drop onto our front lawn would do to my bike and my 9 year old body. I don't remember where my parents were, but I was aware, even at that age, that they might be a little upset if they discovered their son lying in an unconscious (or dead) heap in the yard when they got home. At one point, I thought to myself "At least they'll still have my brother and sister." It was a turning point in my life - The day I knew that both my prepubesent nuts would never amount to one of Evel Knievel's enormous King Kong-sized balls.

It was a different time. No ESPN. No Internet. Sports on TV were a big deal. Watching one of Evel's jumps was as good going to Disney World for me. I probably only saw him jump live (on TV) four or five times, but I relived those in my head everytime I mounted my plain 20 inch bike that my dad helped me put BMX bars and a Lexan number plate on. I built a ramp out of plywood and two-by-fours that I meticulously painted with Evel's trademark stars and stripes theme. Ultimately my dad would weld my handlebars to the stem of that bike from all the hard landings I took off that ramp.

Knievel's failed attempt at jumping the Snake River Canyon was hard for a kid like me to take. I think I was only 7, but I was in full Evel awareness mode. There were only two results from a Knievel jump - triumphantly land that beast of a Harley or roll like a cheap rag doll, breaking bones and making a yard sale out of what was once a beautiful motorcycle. Floating peacefully to the canyon floor in a multi-million dollar rocketship was unacceptable. My hero was tarnished.

Again, without the internet and True Hollywood Stories, I still idolized the World's Famous Daredevil. It wasn't until I was in my thirties that I realized that Evel Knievel was kind of an ass - an arrogant, womanizing, hard drinking ass. I'm glad I found out later. It makes me sad that we tear apart anyone successful these days. I wonder if my daughter will ever look up to a person in the spotlight and not have that person ripped to shreads when a story appears that could have happened to anyone, but because they are famous, it effectively ends their career.

I'll remember the Evel whose stunt cycle I yearned for my sixth Christmas. The one that stood atop a ramp overlooking 13 Greyhound buses in his Star Spangled Banner cape. The Evel that refused to be carried away on a stretcher after breaking numerous bones. The King of Daredevils.

The King is dead. Long live the King.