Monday, September 30, 2013

Yes, I am sore.

It was worth it, but man, am I sore. My neck, my arms, my back, my legs... I knew I was on something special yesterday, though I dared not look at my watch much throughout. I pushed it, and today I am paying the price.

Though I know the distances weren't all accurate (or is that accurate at all?), I know it was a lifetime best regardless. In the process of processing this stuff I discovered something I'd forgotten... I didn't go 2:14:00 at Chicago, I went 2:16:00. I guess that makes me feel better about Milwaukee, but it really makes me feel better about yesterday.

Here's how it breaks down as far as I can tell... the swim couldn't be more than 100 or so meters short, if that. That's about 1:20 to me in time.

The bike could have been a mile short, though I don't think that much. A mile is 2:30 to me. That's just under 4 minutes.

If the run was short, it couldn't have been more than a tenth. Forty seconds? Now we are up to 4:30.

Okay, conservatively that lands me at 2:10:00. Yeah, I'm still happy about that.

I don't know how it will all play out with USAT. Right now I need to raise my score a full point. If this race comes in above 87, I think I'm in. It'll be close. The guy that beat me is averaging around 88 points in the rankings, but he's younger by several age groups. If the scoring works the way I think it should, I could wind up scoring more than him on the race. I sure hope so. I've scored 90-point races before, so I know it's possible. Not often, but it has happened.

On to other topics...

We are going to try to ride tomorrow evening. It will be my last ride for sure if I make it. NE Dubois is next Tuesday night, Sectional the following Tuesday, and by then we are firmly into mid-October. I cannot imagine we will have the daylight or temperatures to make it worth trying to meet at that hour of the evening. It's been a great run for sure, and a big part of the reason I've been able to race this late into the season, so thanks, guys!

Anyway, there will be a change to the regular agenda. It's going to be a regular start from Mitchell Church of Christ, regular time, but we are riding to Huck's and back. We might add a little to the far side of it, but it will be a shorter ride due to daylight issues. Wendy's afterward, of course!

Sunday, September 29, 2013

Boilerman: turns out I look good in black!

Sporting my shirt and prize
Wow!

Things sometimes come together in indecipherable ways, and my wacky training regimen seemed no hindrance to my efforts today at the Boilerman Triathlon. It was far and above the best race I've done this year, and I've had a couple of good ones.

It didn't start off looking too promising. Rain was almost a sure bet as of last night's forecast, and as predicted it did indeed begin raining about 5:30 AM. Rand and I headed over to the McDonald's a stone's throw away from our motel, where I got my breakfast burrito. Rand went for the oatmeal, and we quickly had it all put away.

From there we took our time preparing gear. Which kit to wear? (I brought 2) Which helmet? (I brought 2) Which GPS? (I brought 2) These are weighty decisions, but ultimately were sorted out. Then we had to pack it all up. That Element of mine sure can haul a load of gear! Both bikes, our bags, and a load of Rand's T-3's made the trip.

We had to park over a mile from the transition area, and as it was raining, I wasn't in too much of a hurry to get there. We had almost an hour and twenty minutes before the scheduled race start, and since we were dry and in a warm place, I voted to stay put for a bit. Actually, I can't call it a vote since I had the car keys. We weren't leaving until I said so!

In the end we had to ride in the rain to the transition, put our gear out, and then stand in the drizzle until the race start. This we did about right... by the time we were ready we had about 20 minutes or so before we had to walk down to the lake. That gave us time to take care of restroom issues and anything else we overlooked.

Time did come, we did walk toward the lake, and it was nearing time for the start. There were a lot of kids there, and they were pretty fired up. We talked with a few, and it was clear there were some newbies. Things got a little raucous with one of the college groups as their cheer devolved into a horseplay match. One kid shoved another onto me - hard - and I uttered, "c'mon guys", tossing in a glare for effect. I kept the ironbird sheathed, Allen. They settled down, and there was no harm done. Rand did say he was waiting for me to set my goggles on the ground...

The sky, indeed the lake, was grey, all grey, and visibility would be a problem. The wind across the lake was generating a surface current that would wind up causing a bit of a problem. I made my way to the far left, ensuring I'd swim farther, but in cleaner water. We were wave 3 of 3, set off in 3-minute intervals.

The swim wasn't hard, it was only hard to see and at times to hold a line. I weaved a bit, no doubt. Still, the swim didn't take too long. The lake itself was clean enough, without vegetative undergrowth that sometimes fills lakes of this size. I came in well within my time goal, and was off and running.

It was a sizable run to the transition area. We ran from the lake up a good rise and through the pasture to the grassy transition. I had my wetsuit more than half down, but I'll be darned if I didn't struggle with it. Reminded me of Jimmy and Mike at Terre Haute a few years back. I also forgot to start the GPS, so I would up having to fool with it to make sure it would time. Finally, it was soaking wet out there, so I knew I had to wear socks - my feet would have been totaled if I had gone without. However long that took, it was worth it, because the run later...

The bike was as advertised. It was mostly flat, with a few rises and rollers, but nothing truly significant - just like you would imagine northern Indiana. The main issue were the many turns - since the roads were rain-slick, you had to slow way down at every turn. While this really slowed my pace overall, there was no other way. To do anything else on the narrow roads was an invitation to disaster.

After the first couple of riding miles, I found my legs, and I was clipping off pretty good legs. My goal was to ride faster than 23 mph. I thought that'd be pretty good this late in the season, and anyway I'd done it just the other day on a far harder course (though shorter). That should be fast enough, coupled with my swim, to give me a fighting chance to place well.

I crushed the bike. It was vintage, passing people hard over and over. One individual did pass me, with authority, and I knew there would be no point pursuing in my current state of fitness. I figured he'd be 25+, and I was right. He was the #1 rider. I wound up #3, another great surprise.

The latter half of the bike saw the beginning of an at-first latent fear, rising as the miles ticked away into a full-blown anxiety... would I have enough left for the run? It was an interesting leg... the first 4 miles were in a residential neighborhood. The last 2 or so were around the lake - in the pasture. I knew I would be strong enough to run in the streets - I've been running pretty solidly lately - but I didn't know if I had the strength to carry on through the rough off-road.

The residential went as expected. I was pulling through people left and right, ticking them off methodically. I did have one person pass me, but I'm sure he had to be a relay runner... he was in a college kit, and at the speed he was running would certainly have been a better biker and/or swimmer had he been doing it alone. And I wasn't running poorly at all. I wound up with a 6:19 average, faster than I've gone in a good long while, and was 2nd overall.

Second?! Yes, they threw out the collegiates from the age groupers, so I wound up in second. I wish I would have snapped a photo of their finish - can't find the results online - because I would like to see how I compared with them!

Here's all I know about that part... when I came in, I asked the timer how many people were in. He said I was the 14-17th person in, and the first open. My guess is that first guy in the open had an alumni kit on, so he didn't catch him, so that would be 13-16 collegiate racers ahead, all with a 6-minute head start. I beat some of them, I know it. Not all of them, but some of them. That's some satisfaction for this old fart!

Unfortunately, Strycker rules do apply, even with a Purdue shirt. Being the sport I am, I have included photo documentation of my compliance. Norm Taylor is laughing out there somewhere!

Thursday, September 26, 2013

Double

I ran with the girls after school, albeit very slowly. I've had to slow them down a bit because I've busted them up. Hopefully that will pay off down the road, but for now, I'd best be careful.

Once home, I didn't feel like getting out for anything else. After all, every night this week has been full. Still, how many perfect riding nights do we have left? There was no choice - I had to go.

I had in mind to ride around town, but sure enough, once the wheels hit the road I turned south. Down the cut and onto the highway, I decided it was the perfect night to stay on 37 all the way to KFC in Mitchell. There was no wind to speak of and traffic wasn't too heavy. It was something different.

It was amazingly easy to keep speed going south, thought it is a net uphill affair. KFC came all too quickly, and it was a quick turn for home.

Again, there was no trouble on the way back. The average for the trip was over 22 mph, which is pretty fast for me. I've never made a segment out of the whole thing, but I should. It might be interesting to see how this one compared. I bet I would be KOM! ;)

Lord of the Segments Pt. 12
The pair looked for a place to sit. As they turned, their feet clung to the tacky tile-covered floor. Remnants of the sap-flavored drinks were half-dried, and the residual fluids took on the consistency of soft glue. They rounded a corner and saw most seats were already filled with the most interesting people. There were older people, alone, unkempt, staring wistfully out dark windows. There were young parents, single mothers mostly, with offspring of the wildest origins. Screams and cries and tantrums split the air, but it didn’t really bother Jimmy and Randwise. They finally made their way to a small table with not too much trash left behind by a previous customer and not to filthy to sit at.

The wait for food was long. Finally, Randwise went up to check on the food, and after standing for another ten minutes caught the attention of unmotivated soldier. Getting him to stop, Randwise asked about the food. The soldier cast his eyes a few feet away, and gave a look that said, “Are you really going to make me walk over there?” With a heavy sigh he shuffled over, picked up the taters, and walked back. Placing them on the tray, he impatiently pushed it towards Randwise.

Randwise wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to irritate the soldier, but it didn’t matter now. He had exotic treasure in his hands, and he didn’t want to waste a moment getting it back to Jimmy. He weaved carefully through the wild children, who were by now running and screaming through every open space in the inn. There tattoo-laden mothers were bereft of any acknowledgement of their children; it was almost as if they had come to have others watch their children for them.

Once back, Randwise and Jimmy quickly unwrapped their delicacies. Their excitement turned to disappointment as the first few bites of food began to return unexpected taste information to their tongues. The pictures had looked so delicious; the food did not come close to matching. It was edible (barely), but it wasn’t the thrill they’d hoped.

Soon the meal moved on to the piece de resistance – the Frosty. It did not disappoint, in fact, it was a slice of pure heaven. As they took their first bites, their eyes locked – they were sharing a moment, the very first time their tongues touched something so exquisite. At least in this respect the pictures lived up to the expectations. In the end, both had their faces shoved into their cups, one hand on a spoon frantically scooping for one last spoonful of this epicurean delight.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Came late, but it was great

I was late arriving to the run. It wasn't terribly late, so I felt if I laid in a good mile I would catch the group, which I did. Jimmy and Haley were out there, but they were run/walking. That left me to the tender mercies of Roy, Rand, and Greg.

Oboy.

I knew Greg would have some quality in mind. Would I be able to hang? Honestly, I didn't know. He began to talk about it on the way back to Jimmy's, and laid out his second-half thumbnail. Essentially he wanted three quality miles under 7-minute pace. I had the Garmin provided by Steve (thanks, Steve!), and though I haven't taken the time to set it up properly yet, I would be able to get distances.

Greg wavered a bit on his time goal as we took off, so I said, "Follow me for a bit" and I took off. I was trying to use the Garmin to land the pace, but as usual it was taking a while for it to settle down to a steady reading. When I saw the 5:50 pace I decided it was time to look around. Rand and Greg were way off the back, which meant I had gone way too fast. I know you guys that have run tempos with me before cannot possibly believe I would blow the first mile pace, but apparently I did. I slowed and let the guys catch, and we rolled into the first mile a tic or two over 7-minute pace.

We headed back to Jimmy's at the same pace, then Greg and I did one more mile. This time it was his turn to set the pace, which he did. In the end we had right at 6 miles, the second half at higher quality, just like he wanted.

Tomorrow will be a run, no ride. I may ride Friday!

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

This episode had lots of plot twists

The crowd had thinned quite a bit. John T., Scott, Greg, and I planned to ride tonight, and originally that was about it. Dan contacted me right before the ride wondering if we were going out. I told him we were, when, and where. I was pretty busy at the time, so I left it at that.

Then I thought about it. The rest of us had already agreed we needed to take Highway 37 south from Mitchell to Orleans, then jump on the line going east. Average pace for the ride would surely be 20 mph overall, and this was Dan's 2nd ride since May. It might be a bit much. I decided to let it ride and see how things worked out.

It's not like we had a lot of choice about the way we rode. Daylight is dwindling, and with cloud cover, the sunset would come even faster. We had to be back by 7:30 to make it safely. We left at 5:45 on a ride that usually takes 1:50:00. It's easy to see we couldn't dawdle.

Things did indeed work out. We rode 37 down, then Scott said he'd ride back with Dan. He didn't feel he could manage the storm coming. We can agree/disagree with his feelings (I for one think he could hold it), but he was right... John T., Greg, and I would certainly push a bit.

We held 22 mph on the way out into a very slight headwind. There was nothing difficult about it, though I did finally break into a sweat. When we got to the county line there were only three of us. It was a quick turnaround. I still felt fresh, so I took the first pull. We agreed on 25ish, and I started off.

It really was easy to hold 26ish. I was coasting, but keeping to the rules. I did bend them slightly... I pulled 3 minutes the first time (rather than 2), mainly because I wanted to clear the hills before I handed over. Galloway and I are alike on this one... I hate to tap before a hill is complete. Chances are, if I'm on front as we head into a hill, I'm staying on.

Greg and John T. both held fantastic legs. We've ridden together so much now we know exactly what each of us will/can do. This familiarity makes pace lining fun and much easier. Not that you should ever disrespect the speed you're going and the damage you will do if you pile up, but you have a confidence in the other riders you just can't give to outsiders. On top of that, three riders is a great pace lining size, because there is no oscillation in the line.

When we hit Lost River, my turn came shortly before the bridge (and the hill). I'd made up my mind on the way out I was trying for the segment. I shouted back to Greg, who was right behind me, that I was going for it. We took off hard, going into the hill at nearly 30. I called back, "Don't hesitate to go around!" He didn't. Greg flew by me, leaving me flat out. I kept pumping to salvage what I could, but he was clearly dominant. I'd guess he topped the hill 10 seconds ahead of me at least. I felt like I broke the KOM, and if I did, he must have destroyed it. More on that later.

The rest of the ride was uneventful. We picked ourselves up after the segment attempt. I drove us through the rollers, then Greg took the last hill. No one seemed to want to sprint, or at least, no one wanted to lead out. I was guessing we couldn't be far off the KOM, so I urged Greg to sprint away. He didn't.

Screw that! I pulled around John T. and headed in a slow breakaway ahead. It had no chance of working, but that was never the point. I was trying to goad the other out. It worked. Greg pulled alongside, then when John T. made his way up, they pulled away from me. I'd given all I had on the way out and back, so there wasn't any sprint left in me.

We cruised back home on 37, hitting the church parking lot right before dark. We couldn't have timed it much better! Total ride time was just under 1:38:00, which is probably the fastest pace we've held overall. Wendy's followed, and we all enjoyed our well-deserved treats.

Oh, there was on final plot twist. Greg's Strava app disconnected (on his phone), so he did not get an official KOM. I only tied Jimmy Sowdet, so... the luck of Jimmy holds one more week! If I were Greg, I'd post 28 seconds manually. He was at least that fast, I'll vouch for that.

Lord of the Segments Pt.11
Jimmy withdrew to Randwise, who was quite relieved the ordeal was over. Once again they turned to the long, winding road before them. In Randwise’s mind, there was enough peril along the path; no sense rushing off into the brush searching for more. Both Jimmy and Randwise were dark in spirit, and in an effort to raise the mood, Randwise offered a bit of conversation.

“Do you suppose we’ll have good food at the inn?”
“I should hope so. I’ve high hopes that such a developed village will have fine foods such as we’ve never sampled before.”
“Do you really think so? I’ve heard tell of ways to prepare yardbird that will set fire to your mouth. And taters! You know sometimes they split them into pieces and fry them in animal fat? Dip ‘em in crushed tomaters they do. And the drinks! They bubble in your mouth and throat!”
“Oh, Rand, that’s not for me. Give me a fine salad of fresh vegetables. Split taters? Such nonsense. There is another delicacy I’ve heard of, though I scarce believe it.”
“What is that, Master Jimmy?”
“Something they call a ‘Frosty’. It’s cold, like winter, but smooth, like summer. It comes in different flavors, they say.”
“That would be a perfect addition to my yardbird and taters!” exclaimed Randwise, now completely overcome by his appetite.

The conversation had just the desired effect, and soon the pair forgot about the darkness and peril ahead. Eagerly they hastened their steps until they came to the edge of the next village. Upon entering town, all the merriment of spirit soon fled. Dark streets and shuttered windows were on all sides. Mangy curs, starving and leering, emanated low, evil growls as they passed by. The look of the village was of rot and decay, of hopelessness and despair. One gray building after another passed by, and Jimmy began to wonder if there had ever been joy there. No sounds beyond the aforementioned animals could be heard – all was… void.

Presently a light shone down yet another gray street, the first light they’d seen since entering the village. It flickered like a candle in a mineshaft, faint, faraway, and yet the only hope to which they now clung. They shot straightaway off to the beacon, daring not to look either left or right for fear the light should blow out and its placement lost forever.

Finally they arrived at the door, covered in glass, bright and clear, and happy patrons could be seen inside. The building itself was in stark contrast to everything around it. Its walls were mostly large panes of glass. The roof and walls (that weren’t glass) were painted in bright reds and yellows. Booths for four average-sized Bedfordtonians lined the outer walls, and tables with chairs for four filled the center of the room. There was a counter where uniformed guards protected the stocks of food, though there was a portal through which patrons could requisition meals in exchange for bartered goods.

The quartermaster was young, with an oily complexion and unkempt hair, perhaps in his twenties, and surly. He’d signed into service seeking adventure, but doling out rations to the slovenly populace was not quite what he’d had in mind. This caused a great deal of resentment which he was all too happy to heap upon the many villagers in line. In fact, his chief entertainment came from communicating his complete indifference to their desires.

Jimmy and Randwise were naïve, wide-eyed and enamored with their surroundings, the like of which they’d never before seen. Though the wait in line was exhausting to the regulars, the time flew by for the adventurers. Look! Over there! Is that the drink machine? You mean you can get your own drinks? Look! What does that machine do? Is that… the Frosty machine? How do they do that? What is that smell? It’s like potatoes, but not quite…

“Welcome to Wendy’s, can I help you?” said the quartermaster in complete monotone and barely disguised contempt. His insincere request was required, and he complied, if with something less than even the barest enthusiasm.

“Do you have baked sweet potatos?” Jimmy asked, his mouth already watering.
“We’re out.” Said the quartermaster, staring blankly.
“Do you have apple/berry salad?” Jimmy was willing to go with a second option almost as eagerly as the first.
“We’re out,” was once again the reply.
“Aw, c’mon man! You gotta have something back there!” Jimmy flashed his grin – it had served him well so many times – but he’d never dealt with the quartermaster before. “Do you have-“
“We’re out.” Clearly Jimmy didn’t understand with whom he was dealing. Randwise was a little quicker.
“What do you have?”
“You can have numbers one through eight,” he said, gesturing half-heartedly behind him. There were pictures of meals decorating the walls (interesting decor, thought Randwise), and he urged Jimmy to select one. Jimmy finally picked some ground beef; Randwise went with the chicken. Jimmy offered up a few coins, which the quartermaster accepted, and they were given a ticket. When the required materials could be gathered by equally indifferent soldiers, they might be given a half-hearted call. 

Monday, September 23, 2013

Made the run, somehow

It's worked out this season that more often than not I've managed to get to scheduled runs. I'm not capping the girls in any way... it's just this year, most of them drive. Then end of practice is the end of my time there. Usually.

We ran 5 miles tonight, and the pace appears to be quickening. Scott is feeling better too, because he pulled us along the whole time. I decided a while back that I was going to try to run on the front of whatever as long as I could - maybe there is some way to get back in better shape after all, and I might as well try.

It was a largish group too. John T, Roy, Scott, Miller, Greg, Me, Jimmy, Haley, Randwise... I mean, Rand. Jimmy, Haley, and Rand fell off the back, sticking to Jimmy's regimen of walking/running. It's good to have him back, and hopefully running longer and faster soon. No hurry there!

Scott broke the group up, and Greg, Miller, and I stuck with him. It got faster and faster as the run went on, and by the end we were running well under 7-minute pace. It wasn't that hard, it was just faster. I waited for the Miller/Scott double-headed mano-e-mano fest that was sure to come, but it didn't. Just as well. I would have been dropped had they gone.

One more ride tomorrow! If I make it (big if), it will certainly be my last one. I've said that many times, but I can't see how it would work out another week. We'll have to push hard tomorrow as it is. Daylight is waning fast!

Lord of the Segments Pt. 10
Two figures danced around the firelight, wrestling over a hand-blown glass full of homemade brew. Jimmy was near enough now to smell it, or at least he thought it was the brew, and it was vile, like it had been extracted from cabbage. There was no question it was potent – the behavior of these creatures was proof enough – but it could hardly have been worth the agony of ingesting it. So inebriated were the creatures they could not hear Jimmy’s rather clumsy approach. Not that it would have mattered… they were only interested in getting more of the witch’s brew.

“It’s my turn! You’ve had two drinks already!” said the red-headed one.
“Yes, but they were smaller drinks than the guzzle you took last time, you hog!” said the other.
“Guzzle?! I can’t help it if you can’t hold your liquor. I thought you had big boys?”
“The biggest! And they’re thirsty, too!” and with that he took another swig.
“Give me that!” roared the red-head, wresting the glass from the other. “I can keep this pace up allll night.”


Jimmy was intrigued. Both were small, like most Bedfordtonians, although slightly larger than Jimmy. The red-headed one had a rather largish tummy that sagged slightly. The other limped slightly, as if his hip hurt him. Other than that (and the color of their hair) they were of average build and indescript features. While he would have enjoyed staying longer to watch and listen, his quest beckoned, as did Randwise, and as there was much walking yet to do, he was forced to retire from the two. He did overhear a bit of drunken swagger regarding a running race and who would “win the neighborhood trophy”, or some such nonsense or other.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Was that... Dan?!

That's right, Dan Dyke, the Double-D, showed for a ride this afternoon. Twitter does work!

Scott, Jimmy, Allen, Dan, and I met at Mitchell Church of Christ this afternoon for a short, easy ride. We held to that plan, cruising down the Super 2 to Huck's. We stopped for a treat, then Allen changed the plan. He got out-Allen'd though... Scott changed the changed plan. We headed further south into seldom-ridden sections of Amish country, and found some very nice riding.

Eventually we turned north again, going over some of Allen's super-secret-segments. I don't think we broke any records, as a healthy (at times) northeast wind slowed us some. It wasn't unpleasant - quite the opposite. it was cool, clear, and sunny. It just wasn't fast.

Jimmy made a breakaway move late in the ride, and that inspired me to chase. I've made a segment out of it just to see who's been out there and what they've done. I have no idea how this will come out until it populates later.

Running tomorrow!

Lord of the Segments, Pt. 9
Hurried Good-byes
Normdalph wasted no time and was gone. For a few awkward moments Randwise and Jimmy sat in silence, staring blankly at the cursed GPS. Thoughts raced through both their minds, mostly about where they might be going, how long they might be gone (I hope it won’t be more than a few days!), and most of all, how would Bedfordtonians think of them upon their return.

Soon the urgency of Normdalph’s warning sank in, and the duo made haste as they prepared to leave. There wasn’t enough time to prepare properly, and since they only had to travel one town over, they packed lightly. Only the essential materials, such as water, Gatorade, gels, shot blocks, and any other items that would fit into a proper Camelback kit. At least, that’s what Jimmy did. Being quick and alert as a fox, his gear was ready in no time. Randwise tended to be far more thorough and far less selective about his packing, and when he finally returned he dragged behind him a bag large enough to carry a body.  Jimmy only sighed, and gently suggested Randwise strip down to the essentials, and perhaps borrow a smaller pack. Randwise reluctantly agreed, and after an interminable wait, was finally properly outfitted for the trip.

The pair waited until evening to depart. It was still a bit light out, but the light was fading in the west, and the first stars of the moonless night were already twinkling. Day animals were all but silent now, and the nocturnal life was stirring, their mysterious noises already rising all around. Southward the pair went, through the lights of the city, down around Hillcrest, and finally across the river bridge into Dixieland. It was still some time to go, but the dark had already overtaken them. A couple of hours of walking awaited them, so they wasted no time.


Presently they heard noises off to the side, near the river’s edge. It was the sound of laughter, of roughhousing, and camp gear being scattered all about. A campfire cast its light onto the lower tree branches, and strange shadows danced on the leaves. Curiosity overcame Jimmy, and against Randwise’s urging, crept towards the sound. 

Friday, September 20, 2013

Hard run, sorta

Don't know what's gotten into me. Could be that Strava biking is upping my fitness, maybe I'm more rested, maybe it's just stress, but my running seems to be doing better. My knee pain is getting better. Heck, even my shoulder is getting better. I benched more weight tonight than I ever thought I would again. That's significant, because shoulder pain had been severe before. Now it is a constant 2 instead of a constant 7. At this rate, I won't even get it checked out.

I ran with Carrie yesterday, and it was a harder run than we normally do with the group. Not that it was hard - in fact, it wasn't at all - but I sure did sweat a lot. Later I could tell I was dehydrated, so I wasn't sure how today would go.

I left the house with a quicker step than normal, and it transitioned to a 6:45 first mile, Garmin measured. I won't call it easy... let's call it controlled medium hard. This I held for 3.5 miles before I decided I'd pushed long enough.

I'll be sprinting all over the course tomorrow during the meet. The mile splits are pretty far apart, and my girls will be spread out. This won't be easy! For that reason I thought I'd best cool it tonight.

Final time was 33:41. And that was with a very easy 1.5 mile finish. That's a ton better than I've been doing the last few months. Things are becoming so easy I'm beginning to get ideas I probably shouldn't entertain. Still, opportunities are opening, and I'm keeping an open mind...

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Lord of the Segments, Pt. 8

This was all too much for a simple Bedfordtonian such as Jimmy. Meekly he offered, “Couldn’t I just give it to you? Couldn’t you take it to its destination?” Jimmy extended the device to Normdalph, his eyes wide and desperate for a way out of this fate.

Normdalph shrank back at first. Then, as the temptation rose in him, he drew himself up to his full height. His grey suit seemed brighter, his saber sharper, his beard whiter. His head involuntarily cast to one side, he began to shuffle slowly forward, and he was muttering, “The Hillcrest 5 is actually only 4.83 miles. The Jimmy 5 is actually only 4.77 miles…”

Randwise burst forward, placing himself between Normdalph and Jimmy. The rush of Randwise’s entrance and interruption of his line of sight to the device snapped the spell, and Normdalph returned to normal. He shrank back down, actually appearing older and more worn than before. “You would freely give this to me, and I am sorely tempted to take it, but for all my good intentions I would do great evil with it. No, this task is yours and yours alone. You must carry it to its destination.”

“When do we start?” asked Randwise. “Rand, it’s not your job. I wouldn’t dream of pulling you out of respectable life for this adventure.” Jimmy meant what he said, but inside he secretly hoped Randwise’s stubbornness would come forth, which it quickly did. “Might as well get over it. Where you go, I follow. I’ll not let you do this on your own,” said Randwise stoutly. For the first time since it began, Jimmy flashed his trademark grin. “Thanks, Rand.” He even managed a short laugh, perhaps forced a bit, but its effect was positive nonetheless.


“And what of your plans, Normdalph? Where will you go? When will you go?” Jimmy inquired. “I leave in the hour. Where to I prefer to keep a secret, but I have someone I must see to help me understand what information I have collected. I will join you at Wendy’s when I have concluded my business, don’t worry.”

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Who would have thought?

This exercise thingy is a weird... thing. Sometimes you can feel older than old, old stuff, stuff so crusty and moldy and out-of-date and, and... well, old! Then, out of the blue, you get a small sliver of your former glory.

I won't lie. The last couple of days have been less than peaceful. Work has seen some bizarre twists and turns, coaching has been a test, the body has been breaking down... let's just say there hasn't been a whole lot of anything to give me solace.

So I arrived at Jimmy's late, which added more stress, and ran backwards on the course until I met up with the group. I wanted to at least get out of the graveyard, not because I'm a scaredy-cat (though I am a scaredy-cat) rather because I would have 3/4's of a mile in. Doubling back to the office would therefore give me about 1.5 miles. This meant I'd have to run hard right out of the gate.

Thing about getting old is you can't run hard out of the gate. Oh, you want to, but your body won't do it. It took me a few blocks to get it going, so I didn't think I'd make my target. I was wrong! I nailed the meeting just as I wanted, so HAH! One thing went according to plan today!

On the way back to the office I got a chance to talk a little with the guys. There were a couple of conversations going on - I was talking to Galloway, and Greg was talking to everyone else. I overheard him say something about running a 5:55 last mile today. I made a mental note to come back to that.

So after a bit, I brought it back up. "You're really planning on running a 5:55 last mile today?", I asked, already planning to give it a shot if he was serious. "No, I'm going to have to start doing stuff like that. Not today. Next week." was more or less his reply.

The weird thing was, the second I heard him say it the first time, I fired up. Could be the stress of work and coaching, could be my "don't be afraid to try" attitude right now, but one way or another, I was going to go for it.

This part was a bit dirty. I mean, after all, everyone else had more-or-less poo-pooed the idea outright. Greg had said no. Something inside me believed if Greg saw me take off he'd be forced to respond. He's a racer. I was the bait. It would happen. The only question I had was "how long would it take to catch me?"

I actually felt light when I turned the corner and started for home on the final mile. Light like I have seldom felt in the last few years. The step was quick and easy, the stride pretty open, and I was in a rhythm. It would be off the mark to call it easy - that would be an overstatement - but I was prepared to carry the pace all the way to the finish. Greg would catch me, but he would work for it if he did.

I heard Greg shout something like, "Oh-ho-HO! So THAT'S how it is!" when they all rounded the corner. I didn't look back. That would be weakness. Straight ahead, maintain the effort and focus. I listened to my breathing, my heart, my footfall, but mostly I listened for him. He was coming, I knew he was coming...

By the time I got to the church I thought he had to be on me. The mile levels off here, and it becomes a much flatter, easier run. I figured this to be the point of passing, as I have no true speed. Sprinters will always get me in this situation. Still, no Greg. I knew he was there somewhere.

I finished the mile, hit the split - 5:25 - and looked back. He wasn't there. I'd been wrong all along. So much for my ploy! He came in a bit later a smidge over 6:00, barely breathing. He was toying with me. The rest of the guys soon followed.

Now we all know this mile is short, so I'm not about to believe that time is right. How short, I can't say, but I feel confident the mile was under 6:00. That in itself is a victory for me, because I never thought I'd see that kind of speed again. Kind of makes me think maybe, just maybe it will all get better...

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Fading light, fading fight, whatta night

Strava just might be the devil. I can hear the "Water Boy" reference now...

"Bobby Boo-SHAY, that Strava is the DEVIL!"
"Muh-momma, muh-momma, muh-momma say da Strava ain't no good!"

It's an evil, evil temptress, a succubus of strength and vitality, and destroyer of men. It's siren song haunts you in your waking dreams, bidding you come ride into the deeper water, where torrents of anguish drown you in sorrow.

Or it could be I have terrible character flaws. Naw. Much better when it's someone else's fault.

We had some cannons on the loose tonight - Troy, John T., Greg, James... Scott was under the weather and Galloway was along for a steady ride. I had already run with the girls and couldn't be sure how hard my left knee could be pushed. My meniscus has been sore for a few weeks now, and I'm beginning to get genuinely worried about it.

Anyway, a light east wind greeted us on departure. We had to take Highway 37 from the start if we had any shot of completing the ride tonight - darkness would surely overtake us if we went the regular route. On top of that, there was no moping around - this was a ride!

On the way out, the highway leg averaged over 22 mph by my computer. We didn't rest long. We wound our way to 337, then I lead a 21.5 mph average 10 miles out to the turn point. Scott, who wasn't feeling well, had turned early. Galloway was a bit off the back. In the short time it took him to arrive, Greg and James cooked our gooses (geese?).

They both wanted to do a rotating pace line. The speed wasn't to be high - in the 24's - but we would be in constant motion. And this time, though I didn't catch this at first, we rotated back-to-front. Things would be interesting indeed.

It took a couple of rotations, but we eventually got into it. Speed wound up between 24.5 and 26-high, sort of up-and-down as people passed through. It sounds like a wild fluctuation, but it really wasn't bad. While it is true I could easily have outridden our average on my own, I think it was a harder workout for me to be in the group. Hey, I came to work hard, remember?

I didn't know if anyone would sprint for the finish, I only knew I wouldn't, no matter what. James split, Greg on his wheel. James was simply too much, and Greg had to finish for second. John T., Troy, and I happily mailed in the finish.

After this, we headed back to Highway 37. I knew the hard ride wasn't over quite yet. Troy had asked on the way out where the segment was on the highway. I told Galloway after the pace line, Troy would try that segment, and right on cue, once he hit the highway he split away from the group.

It was his bad luck that he tried to escape from James, Greg, and John T., because they weren't having it. They caught and passed him on the first incline, and he didn't seem to recover. I was about an eighth-mile back with Galloway by this point, and I planned to ride in with him. He told me he was fine if I took off. I said, "I'm going to tell these guys what Troy is up to." Yeah, right.

First, it took me a LONG time to catch them. We were past the Holiday Drive-In before I caught Troy, then a bit further down John T., and finally Greg in the final stretch. I'd seen James bolt before I could get there, and I knew there was no hope of getting to him. Still I passed each person and kept going, pushing harder and harder, fruitless as it was. Go down swinging, thinks I.

The segment, actually the segments, are James's. There is no catching him, and he surely broke both times. Then the amazing happened. He turned early. Strava doesn't give "almost" points. You either do the course or you don't. That meant, so long as I wasn't passed, I had a shot at getting on the board. While I hated to take anything from Lester, the cat was out of the bag; Troy and James both know it's there now. One or the other will have it soon.

I was happy to see later that Lester has retained one of his crowns by a scant few seconds. The other, the sprint of all things, I did manage to take. Again, a short-lived victory for sure.

Wendy's was great, I even got a frosty tonight, as it is likely going to be the last one for me. I know, I say this every week, but daylight is encroaching harder each week. We are simply running out of daylight...

Monday, September 16, 2013

Lord of the Segments, Pt. 7

Not much to report today - did the practice thing, then ran 5 with the boys. We discussed issues related to tomorrow's ride and the Natchez Trace event. There was also discussion regarding Saturday's benefit ride. That's about it. I am loving the weather - I can't remember enjoying exercising this much in a long time. 

With that said, it's time to turn back to the story. 

Lord of the Segments, Pt. 7
There was an almost inaudible “beep!” as the small face lit up. An unearthly glow reflected from their faces as incandescent greens and blues radiated from the sinister device. Suddenly visions began to rotate across the screen, first unintelligible jumbles of numbers, then graphs, and finally a map. A map! Not all was recognizable to Jimmy, though Normdalph knew all at once. A cold hand traced a deathly finger down his spine – his worst fears were realized.

“What is it? What does the map show? I see Bedfordton, but what are these other places?” inquired Jimmy, who failed to see Normdalph’s anguished expression, and was overcome instead by child-like curiosity.
“Never mind that now,” said Normdalph, “I have business I must attend to. I’m afraid I’ll be leaving right away.”
“Leaving?!” cried Jimmy, “you only just got here!”
“I must. And I have bad news. So must you.”
“Me? Why on Earth would I leave Bedfordton?”
“Because you are no longer safe here – or more precisely, Bedfordton is not safe with you here.”

This turn of events was quite unexpected. What had been the thrill of discovering unexpected treasure had turned to stark fear, fear of the unknown, of a fate beyond the safety of the only town he’d ever known, a fear of being cast into the wild and subject to whatever fate his frantic imagination could devise.

“Where am I to go?” Jimmy asked after regaining some composure.
Normdalph laid a reassuring hand on Jimmy's shoulder. “There is a small village not far from here. You will pass through a different town first, and there you will spend the night. I will arrange for your lodgings. You will know the inn keeper by her red hair. The name of the inn is ‘Wendy’s’.”

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Crazy action today!

Wow!

It was a beautiful day to ride, and after church several of us met at the Mitchell Church of Christ. Allen, Lester, Roy, Troy, Arlene, Elizabeth, and I left for Huck's right on the appointed hour for an easy ride.

The winds were out of the southwest, gusting, but not too strong. The ride down the Super 2 was not difficult even if we were riding more or less into it. On the way, Troy revealed to me he had nailed the Cut segment. I made a note of that one...

About halfway down the line I urged Troy to go for the uphill segment coming up. He gave a middling response, one that left me wondering whether or not he would. As we neared the turn, I prepared for my attempt. Here's how I saw it - favorable wind, Troy was there, it might be an interesting race up the top. How would seeing me there affect him? How would it affect me?

I made the move first, and shot up the hill. Ordinarily I'd much prefer to chase, but you don't always have a choice. Troy had laid back, and I couldn't be sure he was going for it. I climbed hard, but was pretty sure it wasn't as good as my previous attempts (and I was right). It was a good effort though, and if my goal is to get a hard workout, I was well on my way.

At Huck's, Allen changed the course. He needed to hurry back, and since the wind was blowing the way it was, he suggested we go back to Mitchell on Highway 37. Arlene and Elizabeth decided to go to Highway 60 and ride in, and Troy said he needed to go to the county line to get more miles.

Uh-huh.

C'mon, Troy. You were trying for the TT segment. No reason to hide it! Post that segment, fella!

Anyway, once we got to the highway, we got in a line. Lester and I eventually broke away from Roy and Allen, and with about a mile to go, Lester broke from me. Great ride, Lester! He wound up with two scalps on that one. That's right, Lester took the uphill today!

On the way home, I started thinking about the Cut. I had time, I had nothing to lose. Might as well unload and try it. My quandary centered around how far I should warm up before going for it. I had been delayed a bit. Lester needed a ride to Allen's, and I needed to get gas. As a result my legs were cold. I opted to park on Dixie Highway, right up through Burton, then drop down to the bridge. As I did this I could feel the lactic building. This was going to be tough! I poured everything into it, and fought to the very top. Was it enough? No way to know.

I was going to ride at 6 with Jimmy and Rand, so I quickly unloaded the Garmin. Success! I got the Cut, and Lester got his segments. Very cool! Now on to the next ride.

Jimmy, Rand, Scott, and I headed to Industrial. This meant circuits, which is the Jimmy workout du jour. This was going to be hard, but what the heck? Worst that happens is I fail. So, I urged the other guys to go for it. Figured someone should be able to nail it.

Scott's first attempt looked solid. I knew I wasn't as fast. Over the next three, things got better for me and worse for Scott. Jimmy too, as he called it on #4. I hoped one of us got it.

Finally we headed down to Brian Lane Way to take a crack at the stupid segment. I demonstrated how to do it, then watched traffic. Jimmy came next, and I knew his attempt was great. Scott had a bad line, and Rand entered the turn in aero (which won't work!). I felt certain Jimmy had the segment.

After we finished, I loaded it up. Jimmy has a piece of it. Apparently so do I. I didn't think my ride was any good, but it was good enough for a tie. How long will it last? Probably until lunch tomorrow. ;)

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Unintentional Incursions

I spent the bulk of the day with the girls at Brown County as we participated in the Eagle Classic. This year was especially exciting, as never before had so many top-ranked teams in both boys and girls gathered at this venue for the event. Everything was perfect - the course, the weather, and the race direction was without peer. This is truly one of the great events of the year, and this one was even special by their already high standards.

When I finally got home, I was left with what to do. Leisa was busy, and it was still a perfect day outside. I decided it would be wise to go ahead and ride, even if I was a bit tired. I could go spin easily on the south side, or maybe go do the Rabbitsville Road course, something easy...

As I pulled away from the house, it struck me I hadn't been north in a while. Perhaps I should go out on the 20-mile segment of the tour course. Who knows, maybe I'd take a crack at M(os)T Unpleasant?

Of course I dreaded every hill long before they arrived. With good reason. Every hill sent my heart rate out of the roof. I didn't try to crush any of them - what was the point? Instead I dropped to the low ring and tried to make them as pleasant as possible under the conditions.

Over and over I kept thinking, "Turn back. Go back into town, find an easier way", but I'd just as quickly call myself a wuss and keep going. After all, what would AtY do? So I kept going.

The moment finally came when I had to decide about Mt. Pleasant. Would I go for it? Sure, why not. Nothing to lose to start it. Besides, it would largely come down to luck anyway... if I met any traffic near the bottom, all hope of a fast time was out the door.

So I dropped, and I even pedaled into the downhill some. Of all the segments we do, this one frightens me most because of the bottom area. Push your luck a little too hard, and it will be a quick death. So yeah, at the last second I braked, then tried to re-establish, but it was too late. My speed fell from over 42 mph to below 20 in nothing flat, and I just didn't have the gas to reopen. I just let it go.

Once back in town, I needed some miles, a few. Williams Blvd was on the way, and I figured I would do a turn along Mash the Gas BS and Mash the Gas. I had no interest in Mash the Gas BS; I figured if I felt up to it, I might try Mash the Gas.

Trouble was, there was an east wind, favorable for Mash the Gas BS. As a result, I clipped it by 4 seconds. Wind-aided time! Of course that meant there wasn't much chance at Mash the Gas, which I soon discovered on the return. I cruised in and that was a day.

Actually, the real surprise came when I plugged it all in. It turns out, and I have no idea how that happened, I got KOM on "Ah, HELL no!". I made absolutely no attempt at all on time. Zero. This can only be explained as a glitch of GPS, because I CRAWLED up that hill. There were times I was afraid my GPS would Autopause because I was under 2.5 mph. Amazing result, that one.

Anyway, add to that workout the running I did today, which was actually substantial. I warmed up with the Varsity, then ran back-and-forth for two races. I wound up with pretty close to 5 miles when it was all said and done.

Tomorrow we are running in the morning I assume. At least, I am. I will also ride in the afternoon some time. I am open to suggestions.

Lord of the Segments, Pt. 6
Jimmy finally remembered his manners and ushered Normdalph in, and they retired to a small side room with just the right exposure to a rising eastern sun to cheer even the darkest spirits. Various bits of the usual pleasantries were exchanged; questions regarding one another’s doings, comments on the weather, typical polite conversation.

After a brief pause as Jimmy reflected on what to say next, Normdalph leaned in close, and almost in a whisper asked, “You know that gift your uncle left you? Do you happen to know where it is?” Jimmy seemed puzzled. “You mean Uncle Allen? Of course I do. It’s right here on the mantle. I suppose I should have charged it, but I always forget such things. You know, it’s not like I can’t sort this type of thing out. I’m just so forgetful!”

As Jimmy was talking, Normdalph was slipping gloves onto his hands. Not gloves precisely; they looked like gloves for the most part, except the fingertips were gone from each finger and thumb, and for some unexplained reason there were pads all along the palm and heal of the hand. Their purpose was inscrutable, however there was no time to ask about them, because as soon as Normdalph had them on he extended his right hand toward Jimmy, and unmistakable gesture.

Jimmy moved to the mantel, found the device and handed it to Normdalph. Normdalph carefully examined every side of the GPS, looking for markings or other clues to its origin. That it was a GPS was certain; what made it special to Normdalph was not.

“Do you mind if I turn it on?” asked Normdalph politely. “By all means!” answered Jimmy, excited to be of some use to Normdalph. Unfortunately, Jimmy had been right; he should have charged it. All attempts to start the device were fruitless. When it seemed hopeless, Normdalph made his next request. “Do you have a computer nearby?” Once again, Jimmy was puzzled, but answered, “Yes, YES, in the next room. Follow me!”

The exited through double glass-framed doors to the joining room, and there indeed sat a computer. And that wasn’t all. The desk was piled high and all around with papers and records and heirlooms and all the things Jimmy had promised himself one day to clear away, but the day never dawned. Gandalph sat down, fumbling through the chaos in front of him until he produced a piece of wire, about a foot in length, with two peculiar ends, quite different from one another, but clearly with a purpose.


Normdalph once again examined the GPS, and finding a heretofore hidden flap, pulled it back to reveal a slot exactly the size of one end of the wire. Pushing the wire in, he now searched the computer and soon found another likely candidate. Holding his breath, he slowly forced the end of the wire into the slot. In just a few seconds the monitor in front of him flickered to life, as did the screen of the GPS. Normdalph and Jimmy could only watch in amazement – the truth be told, neither had ever seen a GPS before and had no idea what to expect next. 

Friday, September 13, 2013

Kingdoms Rise, Kingdoms Fall

Well, well, well... it seems we were wrong about the riding season being over. Some last-minute attacks on previously secure territory seems to have reignited some fire in a few riders over the last couple of weeks.

Let's start with Troy, whom I will now give the nom de guerre of "Attila the Young". Not my best work, but let's face it, sometimes graphics are unintentionally funny because they are so unprofessionally completed. See? That's me being ironic there. Layers and layers of funny, like a funny onion.

Back to the point... Attila the Young has been conquering most of the civilized world for almost a month... one segment at a time. He's encroached on all borders, making himself a hard neighbor indeed. Ultimately the reaction was as inevitable as it was violent.

James was never going to take losing segments in his backyard lightly. Word on the street is he communicated his planned counter-attack to a certain well-known minister of a Mitchell church. Vague hints of retribution leaked over social media, and next thing you know, BOOM! Yeah, that just happened! Whut? WHUT?!

AtY has fallen into a predictable pattern though... he forages mostly during the noon hour. This limits the range of his reach, and though he is soaking up surrounding segments, he left his broadside open to a concerted attack this evening.

Concerted might be the wrong word, since it wasn't exactly coordinated per se. Scott mentioned a couple of days ago today may be a good day to go for the Super 2. I agreed, and made a mental note to arrange for it if possible. Things worked out with practice that I could do it, and so I went.

Scott apparently like the idea so much he did the same thing. When I got to Allen's church, I saw Scott's truck parked. Yup, he was taking his shot. He couldn't be too far ahead, given he works during the day as I do. If I hit it quickly, I might get someone to ride with.

The wind was out of the northeast, but steady. I wondered how it would help, or even if. It seemed as if it was beginning to shift east more and more, but I was out there, and I was going to take the shot regardless.

I rolled out onto the straight and hit it. I'd tried for segments in town last night and felt awful - how would this go? Had I left it in town? Soon I had my answer. Before long I was cruising well over 30 mph. Though the effort was hard, it was sustainable. All I needed now was a bit of luck. Please, smooth downhill with no traffic at the S-turn. Please, no cars at the intersection!

I cranked as hard as I could take it, and only encountered mild interference at the intersection. I finished hard and hoped it would do - I was spent! I felt it had to be close. I'd glanced at my Garmin right before the start and a bit after the finish. It had me at about 8:20-8:30 before I subtracted time for the corners... this was going to be close.

About halfway up the hill I saw Scott. He turned with me and we finished a very pleasant 21-mile ride. Yes, he had just completed his attempt at the record, and turned in an impressive split.

Later I was in the gym, and in walked AtY. We lifted and talked for a bit, and then he revealed to me he'd taken two segments today... Industrial Again and Again and Mt. Unpleasant. Of the two, Mt. Unpleasant hurt the most because it was a very difficult segment. However, his impressive speed on it forces me to bow down. I cannot conceive of a way I could ever top his 18+ mph climb up that hill. That ride was big-time, AtY.

Industrial? It was only a matter of time until someone like Jimmy or Miller or John T. took that one.

I hadn't been home yet, so I couldn't be sure I had the Super 2. I sure hoped so though... There were so many unknowns...

7:54. Under 8 minutes is tough. First time in my life I held 30 mph for that distance. Wind aided? You bet! I. Don't. Care. I may not have "earned" that time, but I did ride hard. Whatever it takes to get me out to do that is good.

Now here comes the funny part... while talking to AtY in the gym, he commented he wanted to be able to hold 30 mph for a mile. I assured him HE might be able to do it, because he's primarily a rider, and strong. I would never be able to do it, or so I told him. But I already had. Wind-aided, true enough, but it was already history.

There I am being ironic again...

Lord of the Segments Pt. 5
Even Normdalph’s patience was tried by this turn of events, but he merely scowled and moved on. Inwardly he did admire Randwise’s steadfast adherence to the right, even if both of his own hands smarted from his stubbornness. His thoughts soon returned to more important issues, concerns which had brought Normdalph to Bedfordton earlier and in more hurried a fashion than ordinary. There was nothing specific, that is to say there was nothing concrete in the many subtle signs Normdalph was beginning to uncover, but pieced together in composition the varied parts began to forebode trouble in the winds, and perhaps worse, a dark evil. This thought was only a vague fear, intuition perhaps, or maybe the vestiges of hard sleep and bad dreams lingering subconsciously into waking hours. But for now, it was time to greet Jimmy. There would be time to sort this trouble out tomorrow – today was for celebrating.

Jimmy was in his kitchen finishing up his latest loaf of bread. He was a person without many vices, but unquestionably Jimmy possessed a particular fondness for bread. Amongst his circle of friends, indeed far and wide it was understood, when dining with Jimmy, if one wished to sample the bread, one must do so early. Left unattended, any scrap of bread would be soon sopping up gravy or egg yolk on Jimmy’s plate.

The smell of bread was somewhat a reprieve for Normdalph, having been thwarted from tasting roast mutton. Anxiously he banged his saber on the door, eager to grab even a small mouthful of delicious home-baked bread. Alas, Jimmy answered even as he shoved the final morsel into his mouth, and Normdalph’s expression melted into the briefest expression of despair. It soon passed; More important matters awaited.

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Okay, we all knew it would happen...

I ran with the girls today, and it was a great workout. We ran down the railroad bed, and we had some quality running in there. The weather was cooler and it was a much more pleasant event as a result.

Leisa wanted to grab a bit after I got home, but after supper there was still time to get out and ride, if I stayed in town and took what I could get. With that in mind I went first to Williams Blvd. to see if I could make a go of Mash the Gas. I tried twice, but it was no use and I knew it. I'm totally out of shape, and never had a chance to regain my lost KOM. Curse you, Troy! ;)

After that I dropped down to Hillcrest Circle and Industrial Park to, you guessed it, take a stab at the KOM on Industrial. I tried twice, but it was no use and I knew it. I'm totally out of shape, and never had a chance to capture my lost KOM. Curse you, Scott! ;)

I still had some daylight left, I still needed a few miles to get to 15 (my target), and it hit me - Stupid Segment, I mean, Climb to Park, or whatever you guys called it. Daylight was fading, there was a large crowd of Pop Warner football parents pulling in and out of the area, and I had no business trying to round that corner fast as I was - which of course didn't stop me from trying not once, not twice, but three times. I was on rails on this one, hitting the same time all three times - and capturing the KOM.

I cannot help but believe there was some pool out there betting on how long it would take me to try, or perhaps whether or not Troy or I would try it first.

I think I will try to ride again tomorrow after practice. I'm hoping to have a bit more time to do it, because I am way short on miles this week.

Lord of the Segments, Pt. 4
Randwise was getting an early start on the roast mutton, a job for which he possessed a particular genius. Generations of Gamgee men perfected and held secret the art of roasting mutton to mouth-watering precision. The delicate spicing, the exquisite crusting outside which sealed the juices inside… it was a delicacy often known to bring tears to the eyes in what was akin to a religious experience. Already the smells were drifting far and wide, forcing those downwind to begin anxiously checking and rechecking their watches, impatiently waiting for the festivities to begin.

Normdalph was no more immune to the intoxicating smell of roast mutton as the next person, and decided to maintain his stealth a bit longer in hopes of stealing a small precursor to the feast to come. It was no use – Randwise was always on the alert while roasting mutton. A sharp rap on his outstretched arm, delivered by a gnarled walking stick held for just such a purpose, forcefully reminded Normdalph he would have to wait just as everyone else would.

Randwise’s reaction had been more instinctual than cognitive, and when he finally looked into the face of the would-be food thief he was instantly mortified. “Forgive me, Master Normdalph! I had no idea it was you!” cried Randwise, head bowed in fear and respect. “Now, now, think nothing of it,” replied Normdalph, “…no harm done. Though my pain would be sooner healed with just a smidgeon of this fine meat…”

Rap! Randwise’s stick came down hard against Normdalph’s outstretched hand. As sorry and fearful as he was to do it, Randwise could allow no one to sample his food until it was perfect. The Gamgee family reputation rested upon his skills, and even the threat of annihilation could not have prevented him defending his honor. 

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Will it ever end?

Three days of excessive abnormal heat. Three days of above-100 degree heat indexes. And I had to run a space heater under my desk this morning because the A/C ran amok last night and my room was a nippy 61 degrees this morning. Yikes! No wonder I can't get healthy.

In spit of this, I've actually run pretty well. Perhaps it's the motivation of the runners who are preparing for their respective races (Persimmon, Columbus, Indy), or maybe it's because we've dropped the dead weight (Jimmy), but we've run some pretty fast 5's the last few times I've been out. Today we even capped the 38-minute run with a Scott acceleration, which I'm afraid I foolishly encouraged by noting it hadn't yet happened. As they say, it's perfectly okay to have an unspoken thought.

I hate that we missed the ride last night. I believe it's fate, because riding time is going to get diminished anyway, but dangit, I hate thinking I'm going to get something I want and then not getting it. Better to believe I never had a shot. Like my Nicole Kidman deal. (Just kidding!) No, really, I don't have a shot.

I may try to slip in tomorrow for a ride after practice. It will likely be an around-town deal. I need to try out my new aerobar pads anyway - I'm sure there'll be an adjustment necessary.

Lord of the Segments Pt. 3
Inasmuch as it was mid-summer, the day dawned with a heavy dew across green fields, and the early morning mist hung heavily in the valley, obscuring most of the small dwellings from view. The windows were all clasped tight to keep out the unhealthy dampness, so Normdalph’s approach was neither seen nor heard as he wound his way through the empty streets to Jimmy’s home.

The home was a sight to behold. It was hollowed out of the hillside in proper Bedfordtonian fashion – in fact, the house itself was the pride of the village, and had been handed down, along with the surrounding property, from Baggins to Baggins for countless decades. Around the exterior there were two external structures to house equipment necessary to maintain the spacious property, and though not large were in fairly good repair. Next there was a small pond, with clear blue water that invited Bedfordtonians to cool themselves on warm days (such as this day promised to be). Finally there was the tall pole, and affixed to its top was a slab of flat wood and a ring, about the size of a peach basket, set perpendicular to the board. It was the central piece of equipment to the one sporting event all Bedfordtonians prized…”hoops”.


The inside of the home was warm, cozy, and filled with the many treasures such a home would collect as it passed from family member to family member. The furniture reflected the varying tastes of previous owners, and the fact they were all still in residence is a testament to the frugality of Bedfordtonian nature. Area rugs covered hard cherry floors, and the walls were of fine mahogany, though they were difficult to see through picture frames scattered over their entire length and breadth. The smell was of wood, smoke, and summer tea sunning on the back porch.

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

The ride that wasn't, and "Lord of the Segments" Pt. 2

Man, I put Scott through a lot of trouble for nothing.

This morning I got an email from Steve at Bicycle Doctor stating my parts were in for my aerobars. I was trying to figure a way to pick them up as expeditiously as possible when it struck me that perhaps someone in the club was heading up there today. So I put out the desperate text asking the question. No after no came in, until Scott texted he was "10 minutes away".

Perfect! Since he was already almost there and was going anyway, I asked him to pick up my kit. He agreed, and I was feeling pretty good about it. It wasn't until later I sorted out he wasn't headed to Bicycle Doctor, he works 10 minutes away. So yes, I had my friend run an errand for me on his lunch time. I am so selfish. Sorry about that, Scott!

I was happy to have the parts though. The aerobar kit Rand loaned me might have worked, but I was really shaky on them. The stance was far too narrow for my shoulder width, and I found myself extremely twitchy in the controls. I was afraid any sort of sudden motion on my part would likely result in a crash. This wasn't going to keep me from doing it, but I would be in full-on "pucker mode" the whole time.

It was all for nothing. Even heading down to Mitchell, it was obvious the ride was doomed. Storms were popping up all over Lawrence and surrounding counties. They weren't moving, they were just getting bigger, spreading out. No chance to wait out the storms - daylight is shorter every day. The only choice was to go ahead and have some Wendy's. So John T., Rand, Scott, and I did just that.

Rand made a new friend. The old lady clearly wanted the seat in which Rand was sitting, and her constant banging her walker against the chair did nothing to dislodge him. She tried standing there looking pitiful, lost, and helpless, but heartless Rand just turned his back. Actually, he wasn't trying to be mean. I was getting a kick out of the whole thing when the first whiff of her perfume wafted its way to me. It was enough to make my eyes water. I really don't know how he kept that seat. At the range he was getting it that force field was set to "stun".

We finished the evening with a walk on the track for the Cancer whatever it was. I don't know precisely what it was all about as I only found out about it today. That said, Rand and I walked almost 2 miles with Jimmy and Scott, and were later joined by Leisa. John T. hung around long enough to collect his choice Colts tickets which were pried from the lovely hands of Jimmy's daughter Haley. If you thought Rand was heartless...

Lord of the Segments, Pt. 2
Normdalph the Grey was a beloved frequent visitor whose time stretched far beyond the memory of the eldest Bedfordtonian, who often lived more than 150 years. In truth, Normdalph was far more ancient than was realized. He was from another time, the first age of the world, a time of great conflict. Normdalph the Grey possessed the knowledge and wisdom collected over an eon of serving all living things and preserving the old ways. He'd been a general, a politician, a doctor, many other pursuits far too numerous to recount, but to the simple Bedfortonians he was now only a wizard.

Normdalph could often be seen approaching Bedfordton on the narrow, dusty dirt roads that spiraled mindlessly out of town. His gait was peculiar, not quite a run, not quite a walk, and his head lolled to one side. It was often said Normdalph's eyes were rolled up in his head, and he would be uttering gibberish words from some lost language. Anyone else behaving in such a fashion would have been renounced, but the youth of Bedfordton flocked to Normdalph on sight, marveling at his uniform, his wisdom, but most of all his humor. He was everything respectable folk should avoid, yet he was utterly irresistible.

The uniform... it was slate-grey, wide in the shoulders, which carried braided chords of gold. Around the shoulders was a short cape of similar grey, large enough to almost wrap around his chest, but only long enough to reach his waist. Its high collar sported brass buttons of intricate design. The coat opened down the front and had two rows of similar brass buttons, as did the sleeves. Numerous medalions littered his breast, the meaning of which had long ago been lost. The coat was split in the back, and partially covered the pants, which were also slate-grey and cut in a straight-leg fashion. Polished black leather riding boots completed the clothing, but the uniform was not complete without the long, elven-hewn saber clasped in the sheath ever at his side. It was said the blade of the saber would glow an unearthly blue when Dorcs were about. 

Monday, September 9, 2013

Lord of the Segments

Bedfordton was a small, backwater village on the edge of the wild wood, surrounded by old-growth timber and clear streams quietly bubbling through crooks and narrows and shady corners of thick wood. The community itself was small, quiet, conservative, and composed mostly of farmers who passed their time in the respectable pursuit of social restraint and stoic work. Idle talk and wild tales of adventure were not to be heard, and were considered to be a sure mark of an uncultured citizen of Bedfordton.

Jimmy Baggins had never quite fit in with the finer folk around town. He was a bit taller than was considered appropriate (for a Bedfordtonian), and his natural exuberance and energy rubbed bare the patience of his neighbors. What use were smiles, laughter, and good humor? Better to bend one's back to work, grinding out a respectable existence in the quiet of one's proper place in life.

Not all Bedfordtonians found Jimmy Baggins so distasteful. Rand Gamgee was a loyal friend and handyman, and Jimmy's friendship was one of the greatest treasures in all his possessions. Likewise the irrepressible Denny Took and Jon Brandybuck, who themselves were always mired in their own mischief.

It was into this world our adventure begins, and the time was a celebration. The Baggins had long opened their home to a wonderful annual celebration, with plenty of food and games that were sure to entice the locals to forgive their excesses for at least the length of time it would take to fill their bellies and take their pleasure. The eve of the celebration drew near, and the excitement, subdued as it was in the most respectable manner possible, was building in the village. Rumor had it the wizard would participate in the entertainment this year, and that was sure to mean all forms of magic and fireworks so grand as to leave indelible memories to haunt the villagers sleep for weeks to come.

More tomorrow!

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Various Items

First, a public service announcement.

*ahem*

Please, in the name of all that which does not suck, do NOT go see "This is the End". I do not have words to describe how bad it is - all I can do is describe my reaction. Leisa and I walked out after 45 minutes. I throw nothing away. I was raised to never waste food, clothing, anything I've spent money on. We couldn't stay any longer. I realized it was flat out cruelty to force her to watch any more. Terrible movie.

I feel like a need a shower to wash off the suck.

On to other things...

Ran and rode this morning, and there were many interesting ideas kicked around. Here's a list of the highlights, in no particular order:


  • Kill stickers for our bike helmets. Maybe for KOM, maybe for other deeds, but it should be a doable idea. 
  • Natchez Trace Ride to become a fund raiser? 
  • Possible new starting place for Tuesday night rides (for me).
  • Possible ride options for Natchez Trace.
  • New segment created for Strava (37 from Orleans to Mitchell).

We weren't able to hook up with Jimmy this morning. Apparently his time was inflexible. Too bad, we would have enjoyed having him. In spite of that, the Burriis and I rode Lighthouse at noon. I forgot my bike computer and was forced to use my iPhone app instead, which by some miracle maintained tower connection the entire ride. I went for the uphill segment again, tying my previous best despite not knowing how fast I was going. 

Man, sorry my writing is disconnected, but I cannot wring the awful out of my head. That was a horrible movie. I would rather go to a Taylor Swift concert featuring a Miley Cyrus dance solo. Seriously, there should have been warning labels on the theater doors.

Run at 8 AM tomorrow. I will likely ride shortly thereafter.

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Close Call

Once upon a time there was a coach who owned a magical carriage.  It was his favoritist ride EVER! It could do so many tricks, carry so much stuff, and could be transformed in so many configurations, well, what wasn't there to love?

Then one day the battery went dead - quite suddenly, as it happened. This was an unnerving event, because the age of the car meant there could  be any number of serious problems happening. The coach took a chance and swapped out the battery for a new one, and for a time it seemed to work.

A couple of months down the road coach began to notice a slight lag in the starter every time he started the engine. Coach's ear, finely tuned from years of shade tree mechanicking, felt the unmistakable fingernails of dread pulling down his back. His beloved chariot was breaking down. No use denying it.

Coach lifted the hood, meekly testing the battery cables for a sturdy connection. The positive cable was indeed loose, so after some trouble coach was able to firm up the connection. Good friends helped jump start the vehicle, and coach began to feel as if all would be well.

It was a long trip back from Mitchell, and it was by then dark. Coach began to notice it was harder and harder to see the road. Before long warning lights began blinking all over the dash. If coach had an ejector seat he might have pulled the chord at this point, because everything was going haywire on the dash. Coach guided the crippled vehicle into the nearest open lot and called home to his mommy.

Okay, not his mommy, but his daughter. Fortunately coach's daughter also happened to be a princess, and the beautiful maiden arrived on her unicorn, which had traveled over a magical rainbow. The princess had with her a secret handbag, and from it she pulled out long wires. On one end of the wires she connected coach's battery. On the other end she lifted the unicorn's tail, and...

Whoa.

Okay, so it wasn't a unicorn, it was her convertible. The battery is in the trunk, so she popped the trunk and hooked up the other end of the jumper cables. The car was started, and coach's car limped home - barely!

So look for coach to be riding to practice on a unicorn across a magical rainbow tomorrow. Or something like that.