Day 118

This is kinda the way I felt at times finding the bike course in Austin. Driving, too. This is one city that is exploding with new-comers. I was told that 157 people PER DAY are moving to the Texas capitol. I must have been passed by most of them as I carefully navigated my way from Motel to course and back. They all seemed to be in a hurry.

That is no slam. Everyone I spoke with nodded in sad agreement when I touched this nerve. There must be a reason.

There is.

I am off for St. George. See ya'll tomorrow in Utah (where I know my way around!)

Day 117

Mission accomplished. Wasn't easy, mistakes were made and a nasty virus took over. I will relay details when I have more strength.

Day 116, Go

Dateline, April 27, Austin, TX. 0930 CDT

I have showered, shaved, walked across the street to McD's for a coffee, packed and glanced at the itinerary again. This one is going to take some hustle and precision.

Because I am cheap. Because there is no budget for this trip other than the standard, 'do it as inexpensively as possibly' tactic I have all but perfected. So I make things difficult because hard is free and easy costs.

Today then, I will provide a rolling commentary a I utilize all the major modes of transportation on my journey home. Why not?

Additionally, I will attempt to capture my changing demeanor and attitude as the day unfolds, a schedule with dangerously little margin for error.

Between Austin, TX and Bainbridge Island, WA lies the potential for world class adventure.

Or disaster.

The mission is to get to spin class in the morning at 0530 PDT.

(Gun sounds)

Day 115

Under gray, cloudy, lightly drizzling skies, we shot over 100 miles today. The first 50 at the annual Red Poppy charity ride in Georgetown and anther run at the Austin 70.3 course. Despite the battleship gray overhead, the video captures some of the local flavor, lavender-laced corn fields, fat, happy cows and country roads winding peacefully through prairie and pasture. Today I managed, on my third round trip, to capture the 56 mile course in one take, with no wrong turns. Should go for an entertaining and educational RCV of high intel value.

And THAT was the mission.

Tomorrow is one more interview before the journey home.

Rental car,
Walk,
Bus,
Cab,
Boeing 737,
Light rail,
Walk,
Ferry,
Truck.

Bed.

I need everything but a notary.

Day 114

I take back half of what I said yesterday. Maybe even two-thirds.

This morning we pulled off the very rare feat of capturing all 56 miles of the Austin 70.3 bike course on one take. Consider what that involves:

No wrong turns,
No bugs in the lens,
No traffic jams,
No extended stops at traffic lights,
Good light,
Good capture of GPS,
No mechanical problems,
No trains,
No rains,
No cops,
No data drops and no video loss.

With the expected exception of f.m. 969 it was free of vehicular traffic, dead skunks and anything resembling obstruction.

The video I reviewed actually looked smooth.

WAY TO GO AUSTIN!!!

Afterwards the interviews with Brandon and Amy, and the Ruthvens at Austin Tri-Cyclist also went off without a hitch.

It was a good day.

Amazing what a little perseverance will do to pick ya up some!

After it again tomorrow and then the trip to San Anton, and out.

All a warm up for St. George next week.

Happy Trails.

Day 113, Austin

As they say, you only get one chance at a first impression. My virgin tour of Austin, TX and its ballyhooed 70.3, "scenic one-loop 56 mile ride passing through rolling Texas farmlands, complete with expansive ranches, cedar-covered vistas, sunflower fields and prickly pear cacti," left plenty to be desired.

Like a signature climb, a challenging hill or a white knuckle descent. The roads, a combination of just about every surface known to public works, and completely bereft of anything remotely resembling smooth, also features an embarrassing lack of shoulders. Frustratingly, the longest section also shares with traffic limited to a mere 60 mph. I saw one person out riding today as I did recon on the course. ONE.

Tomorrow is supposed to be the sunniest day over the weekend, so I plan on shooting base footage starting at 0900 from T1, Decker Lake. The plan is to capture, in one take, the entire 56 mi. one loop course, and then add footage from Saturday's shoot for cutaways. There is no way we will be able to shoot the Route 969 section and stay under the radar. It would create a unique opportunity for a savvy headline writer to pun me being strung-up for impeding local traffic shooting triathletes riding at 1/3 the posted speed. These guys in their big red trucks drive like pissed-off steers.

But I am willing to give it another try tomorrow. Maybe now that I know where the hidden turns are and some of the landmarks, I will get another crack at a first impression.

Day 112

Touched down in Austin, TX a few hours ago. Usual mine field thru logistics getting here. TSA confiscated my toothpaste in Seattle, had 30 minutes to get to off-site rent-a-car to save $200 in airport fees and taxes. Bumper to bumper on Rt 1 and 183, motel lost my reservation. But dinner was good in a sports bar next to motel. Caesar salad, spinach with garlic and flat bread cheese and tomato, all chased by a couple modelos. Some reading and early lights out.

Tomorrow the fun begins.

Still thinking about this morning. We went hard. It was fun. I am starting to feel stronger. At last.

I wonder if ever I will ride another 112, today's numerology metaphor. And then follow with a marathon.

For that is the goal.This morning after class the scale shouted 168, lowest since this "phase' began 15 months ago.

Note to self: Do not lose sight of that goal when on the road this year.

Day 111

After four hours at UW Medicine, the cardiologist warned me that the PAP test (she recommended after capturing my A-Fib at 50 bpm) would require me being comfortable with taking my heart rate to max in a treadmill stress test.

THIS should be fun. Scheduled for May 13.

Spin class in the morning and then off to Austin. Gotta pack.

Day one-ten

It has been five months. Kona was October. It is now the end of April. I am finally prepping for another road trip, this one to Austin, TX.

To say that there has been change would be like saying that Meb can run, his blazing 2:08 today in Boston, emphasis on the point.

For if you want something bad enough, you will make the necessary change to bring the goal into consciousness daily.

For runners, that means running, swimmers…..you know the rest. It is an exercise physiology principle known as specificity. Do what you do. Do it faster, harder and sometimes longer in practice, in training, so when the big day finally rolls around, you embody the magical synergy of confidence and capability.

You walk the walk, run the run, sprint the sprint.

I have been thinking of late about all this as metaphor. Is this what we do in life as well? Or is this life itself? Is racing proxy for self awareness? Is training that part of our soul seeking validation through effort? Is the need to compete hard-wired in our DNA?

I have the unusual opportunity to assist and augment this training and racing component. I get to film the medium, the course, the hills and the athletes upon them as they go about their race preparations. Somedays even on race day when emotion is captured like lightening alongside the thunder of the spectacle.

Austin will be a tune up for the triathlon season that lies just ahead. I anticipate a summer full of color, speed and drama.

I had almost forgotten how much I like packing my gear.

Day one-oh-nine, run.

I ran Boston in 1997. It was an incredible experience, one that I remember to this day with pleasure and pride. Any marathon is hard, demanding and a test of strength and will. But Boston is something else altogether. The crowds are loud, the competition intense and the spectacle unreal. The the amateur athlete it is the World Series of running.

I had a decent day, turning in  3:17. I wanted to go sub 3 but it wasn't to be, a fact I recognized at about mile 20. I wanted to push, find another gear, but none was available. My knee hurt and I recognized the signs and symptoms of the gas tank running on fumes. I will simply say that the last five miles hurt like hell.

Last year was hell of a completely different magnitude. Several of my friends were there and witnessed the carnage created by a sociopath. It put a number of things in perspective. It humbled and it hurt, even a thousand miles away. Finishing a race in pain is one thing, finishing it in the ER is another.

Tomorrow they get after it again, running with courage and intent. The goal is to prove to the world that our freedom cannot be, and never will be, decided by anyone or any act, other than our own choice. We will not be removed from this celebration of freedom by the sick attempts at terrorism.

We will run. We will suffer and we will rise above the pain in a valiant march towards the finish. We will congratulate our fellow competitors as brothers and sisters in arms. This unites us and doubles our strength.

By running, we win.

I wish I could be there. Good luck and God bless those who line up tomorrow morning.

Be brave, run hard. And thanks.

Photo is on my clipboard of Me and Dad at the finish of the 1997 Boston Marathon.

Day one-oh-eight

Got a call from a dear old friend today. I was on my back, under the house, repairing a broken water line.

Amazing how such a simple act of communication can transform a dirty, dark and demoralizing chore into a joyous occasion.

As coupler slipped nicely into purple primed and cemented 1/2 CPVC connecting pipe, I came aware of the repair metaphor.

There are more things to fix than broken water pipes.

Day one-oh-seven

We talked about the team concept last night. The way that training with others motivates and inspires. The accountability factor.

We all set power values and go about our business (focused and determined) to accomplish the objective using the same protocol. We do it at the same time, in the same place with the same variables controlled and regulated.

But then the uniqueness of the individual takes over. The experiment of one.

We try to get tangential elements included in the training, the mental aspect, deep controlled breathing under stress, relaxed focus, the generation of efficient and smooth power.

Everyone responds to the stimulus a little differently much the same as everyone approaches the infamous 20 minute max test differently.

Even then we find greater, sometimes surprising, improvements with a crowd as compared to solo efforts.

There are some things that one will simply not do alone.

We are social animals. We like the camaraderie. We respond to praise, support and encouragement.

It was a good chat. I feel better as a one, more ready to contribute to the many.

I like my team. It is important to me that they know that when the game is on the line, I will not fold the tent and head home. It is empowering that they are confident in my ability to control the flank.

It is a minor miracle that we can actually practice this in our training.

I highly recommend it.

Day one-oh-six

I am finding more and more value in the principal of addition by subtraction.

Most recent examples being the just recently completed down-scaling of my worldly possessions and my new found affinity for our bread & butter indoor cycling drill, the 2x20.

As I sit with only a laptop and one backpack of clothes (mostly workout gear) I find a new minimalist harmony in the loss of anxiety over all the care, maintenance, storage, use, or direction of the thousand things that once comprised my 'kingdom'. Yes, I always took great satisfaction in having the one part (a 1/4 threaded CPVC coupler) in the shed when needed, but trying to stock a complete hardware store over thirty years created somewhat of an inventory nightmare. Problem solved.

The 2x20 set, twenty minutes at 85% of FTP twice, with a five minute break between, provides double value as it creates the mind/body opportunity. One gets the physical bennies as well as the mental. I truly enjoy settling into the zone and putting stready-state relaxed focus into play. With the opportunity to singularly isolate the task at hand by eliminating noise and distraction at the very top of the benefit list.

Addition by subtraction, two examples. Maybe there are two in your life you could share.

Enjoy the ride.

Day one-oh-five

Extreme workouts hurt more than they used to. We ripped off an impossible hour this morning, repeating standing hill climbs for three minutes each at 80% of the max resistance on our Keiser spin bikes. OK, we "rested" for 60 seconds between each, but as anybody who does repeats knows, there is NEVER enough recovery time.

The other factor is my as-yet diagnosed heart condition. When we did the Holter monitor a few weeks back it reported a high of over 200 bpm during the same class, albeit a different protocol. 200! So when my head started to feel the dizzying effects of this morning's work, a splinter of fear snuck in.

Seriously, could I make my own heart explode? Is stroke the fuse? Would I have any warning, like say a flashing red light or alarm?

After the set (labeled dumb, stupid and insane by those in the know) legs went wobbly and HR stayed high long enough for me to drive home, enjoy a yoghurt filled half a cantaloupe and take a nap.

And now we settle back into the flow of this new adventure. That includes the evening 2x20 session in the PowerBarn, our CompuTrainer Multi-Rider Center. (photo)

I wonder if everything is going to hurt more from now on. Yikes.

Day one-oh-four

If we are committed to change, then by golly let's change with gusto! Wipe the slate clean and start anew. Fresh. Confident. Enthusiastic. Peel the layers of the past, see the lessons and compost the rest. Keep digging. Grow, move in the direction of hope, of trust, of happiness. Check every consternating detail and amend. Have no fear, tell no lies, Your cup is empty once again, fill with glee.

Everything now is for the first time. Again. You decide the approach, strategy and tactics. The what and the how. Life's little logistics. Rejoin the dance that once overflowed with wonder and magic. It is all attitude. Your call.

Take the bike off the rack, ring the cowbell and saddle up.

The universe awaits your decision and from this perspective seems ready to rock and roll.

All that is necessary is the start. The commitment to change.

Ye haw.

Day one-oh-three

Don't look back, you can never look back.

I should call this Day One, but since it took 103 so far this year, we'll keep that streak alive as we light out on this new adventure.

Goodnight Cabin in the Woods.

Hello world.

Day one-oh-two and out

As 'colors' plays from across the still waters of Agate Pass, I muster for the final time here. It is a glorious morning, April 13. I will be leaving tonight. I have manned this station for thirty years, finding solace, release, joy and peace. There has been good times and some sad. There has been growth, change, struggle and challenge. Looking back, I will simply echo a now cliche line from a Dead standard and express with awe at what a long strange trip it has been.

But it's over. The time has come to move along, re-set, and trot down another dusty road. I am OK with it. I think perhaps the dead end I worked myself into, eventually solving via a sale, with provide a cathartic response. I was truly amazed at all the pieces to this puzzle that I accumulated over the years and, I suppose to my credit, the stories, history and emotional attachments to each. A book, a stamp, a t-shirt, photo, coffee mug, CD all quickly and without prolix, replayed their connection in time to me a final time. An encore to an appreciative audience of one, standing, smiling, laughing.

I have this day. There remains a lot to do, but Bill is benevolent in this change of command, granting 'as long as it takes' to finalize the load out. I feel responsible for making the transition as clean as possible, but to detail a structure that has been targeted as a tear-down, seems a bit anal. There remains piles of wood, used tile, slabs of marble, glass and firewood. They come with the dirt and trees.

I am shutting down mobile operations here in the trailer to pack and relocate over to Michael & Kim's, my halfway house for the summer. It will be fun to spend more time with Junior as both Mom & Dad commute to work, your basic win-win. I hope.

I may find that a space to call my own is important.

Even if that space is leaking, falling down and in decay.

Here we go then, we hit the ground running and get 'er done. This must happen, done today. We have started and we will finish.

After taps plays tonight, we're outta here, waking tomorrow in another space to another trip most likely of equal or greater strangeness and hopefully with a bit more time. Every minute counts.

Dismissed.

Day one-oh-one

As much as my lower back hurts, there remains a ton to do. It is almost five. We started early this glorious Saturday with ninety minutes of hill repeats. Each one five minutes in duration, standing at about 80%. A scant two minute break between.
It was demanding. It challenged. There was sweat. But by keeping focus on the flow, eyes on every prize, and with a lot of inspiration from teammates, we made it.

I had the opportunity to tell the story of the Canadian Honkers as antidote. You know the reason they honk when airborne in chevron formation?

To cheer each other on. It is the honk that keeps the formation tight, the speed right and the distance covered. They are talking to each other, providing encouragement and moral support. The captain gets to bark every once in a while for emphasis, but largely it is up to each and every wingman to pull his or her weight, and that of one other. The buddy system at a thousand feet.

I guess a goose bumper sticker might say, "Honk if you dig teamwork."

One more day on the farm. We used to call this spot the Cabin in the Woods. Tonight will be my last sleep here and after a final full day of cleaning tomorrow, I officially turn the keys over to Bill and his clan. I am going to write one last time on the strairway wall wishing them welcome.

It has been fun. We had some magical moments. The cabin is so empty right now that it echos inside. I need to finish this strong. Stay focused. Stay present.

I could use a honk.

Day one hundred

Another full, non-stop, hundred-mile-per-hour day. We are down to the final weekend. Two days remain, Saturday & Sunday. I need to be out by midnight Sunday.

I got the real dirty work done today so tomorrow is cleaning up the details. There is not much left. Just accumulated junk and debris, relics of victories past. Mixed with a plethora of artifacts from defeat.

One would think that living in the Pacific Northwest for thirty years would be a decent tenure to learn the carnage potential from relentless rain, but evidence suggests that I need more study.

I hope to take this lesson onward and apply it to whatever building I am left to construct.

Two more days.

Wow.

There will be tears.

Day ninety-nine

Follow up visit to the neurologist to discuss results of the thoracic MRI. He said it looked like it should be in a textbook. Asked what I wanted to hear, good news or bad. I sad bad. He said we don't know what it is. I said then there is no good news. He said yes, there is none. But he will refer me to the cardiology department so we can start anew with fresh eyes and empty cup.

That's good news, right?

Day ninety-eight

I'll put this into context: You do what you have to do to keep it alive. The streak is closing in on 100. I will NOT allow it to end, no matter the workload, demand or degree of difficulty. Basic and fundamental.

The mission is to sustain. One day at a time.

Tomorrow might allow exposition.

Or might not.

That is the joyous beauty of counting.

Day ninety-seven opportunity

I have this opportunity. This day. I can do anything I desire to create success. I can sleep in until noon or I can rise with a song in my heart and snap to the activities, rituals and challenges of the next 24 hours, 12 of which are specific to my goals.

Everyday I need to revisit my primary objective, otherwise my tendencies are to simply navigate the treacherous waters known as the sea of life and to call happiness enough. And it is. Except that I now feel a need to overachieve and create something more tangible, less abstract, something I can touch and taste. Without this, an imbalance is created that gives too much of my energies to others, for their personal use. If I am not in constant care of my awareness, one of the ten thousand corporate hacks will win a round of the 'look-here' game. I need to focus on my goal, not be prey to theirs.

I need to know and go. To know what I need to do and go get it. This with a relentless awareness of my inner GPS and its ability to objectively inform me of here. What 'now' is this longitude and latitude? Where am I on the path? Am I close? Am I just around the corner from Heaven or a mile from Hell*? It is no longer sufficient to merely move, it must now be a dance, free form to the rhythm of my heart. This drum solo has to sizzle as I march.

This dance to that drum could be monumental. There is big change on the radar, a blip of potential. My private challenge, this opportunity, to use the resources at hand, hard-earned and costly, to reinvest in the future by means of the present. I must create something of high artistic value. It needn't be for forever, but it must have meaning, heart and soul now.

I am not 100% sure what that is. I am confident that if my attention is precise, I will get some clues. I will find out, shuffle through the noise, distraction, darkness and negativity to find the color, texture, scale and purpose I desire.

If I can increase the quality of every experience, my happiness will be rewarded.

Today.

A day of opportunity. A set of circumstances that allow additional action.

A lyric used without permission from Jackson Browne's The Road and the Sky.

Day ninety-six

Heard it again this morning. Every time the lyric plays games with my understanding of wordsmithy. It has been circling around my consciousness all afternoon patiently awaiting permission to land.

You know the pay was pathetic,
it's a shame those boys couldn't be more copasetic.*

Nice. Thank you RH.

*A reference to John Belushi's death

Day ninety-five, P1

I am going to try something different today. The Day ninety-five post will have two parts, a before and after if you will. Part One is right now as I start the day.

I feel good. I feel excited about the prospects of today. There will be lot of work. Heavy lifting again moving to/from the storage unit and the dump. Yesterday I had a minor bonk around 1700, so today I will keep a careful eye on nutrition and electrolites. The plan is for ten hours. This is my last full day before closing to get it done. I will even forgo coffee until the first load is delivered. The forecast calls for clouds and drizzle. I will meet that with focus and ceaseless activity. There is the game plan. It is 0730.

GO.

Part II.

STOP.

I fell a few minutes short of the target but it wasn't entirely my fault. The fine, generous, all-volunteer staff in the Ace Hardware parking lot tirelessly manning the Goodwill operation ran out of room in their shipping container. I was there with a full pickup load of goodies, including my entire wardrobe, but they had packed their container about as full you can. I dropped off the boxes in the storage unit and filled the truck one more time, to be ready for tomorrow morning. The cabin has been gutted, nothing but bones and some gristle. I have started on the tool section and should be able to get the kitchen, half-bath and old studio cleaned out in a day. Then it's odds and ends, some I am sure Bill won't mind too much if I throw them in as part of the deal.

So we're done for the day. A solid nine. My lower back is a little sore and there were some moments of dizziness, but it went well. No blood, no tears, just a lot of sweat.

I am down to a handful of days in the place that I have called home for thirty years. I made this mess and I will clean it up. In some circles this is known as closure.

Regardless of that outcome, it will be an interesting final drive down my dirt road.

I say 'interesting' because 'gut-wrenching and heart-breaking' are just too melodramatic for my tastes these days.

But we'll soon see.

Day ninety-four metaphor

It is early evening, Saturday, the sun is splashing golden horizontal light through rain drenched cedars. A day Northwester's call magical, even after a thousand times. I love this light, translucent and wet. After thirty years I will be leaving soon, so this sunset has a touch more meaning that the others that have preceded it. 

Today was another moving day, several trips to the recycling center, two to the storage unit. I am getting a little sloppy, knowing that I have enough room in my rented 8X12 space for everything, not just the family essentials initially planned. So instead of going through every box I simply give a quick eye-ball inventory and save it all or condemn it as trash. Otherwise I would be here forever and the new buyer wants to take over and get started.

After our monster 90 minute spin set this morning, I was thinking about a few ideas that were promoted by another article on the same subject. In an order that can only be called random, here are some of my thoughts:

Anybody that takes the time to write about something, something they have a passion for, should be heard.

Our mission is for the many, elites to beginners, and with careful and skillful leadership this can be accomplished.

Intensity is for everyone, we aim to mimic the motion as well as the intensity levels necessary to achieve our goals.

As a teacher, we need to develop our style, manner and shtick. We should have our own voice, a common theme that separates us from the mediocre or mundane.

As every participant is different, so are the ways and speeds with which we adapt to stress. The beginner will automatically adapt to his or her level of capability as does the advanced athlete.

We must transfer this responsibility to the student so they manage and monitor their effort and progress.

Is it vital to portray a sincere mix of knowledge and enthusiasm in leading sessions.

Music alone isn't enough.

I respect others opinions, appreciate their views and solicit dialogue. I read a lot. I ask a lot of questions. I love exchanging antidotes. I listen with genuine interest what other professionals have to say.

And then I do what I know works.

Metaphorically, this is similar to my chores. Separating the trash from the treasures.

It is all good. There is no one right way. There are many paths.

I choose intensity and I save what is dear to me and toss the rest.

It was an amazing day. It is an amazing sunset.

Time to rest.

Day ninety-three, create

The thought for the day was a basic one. Here is where I started: Social media can unveil the best in us as well as the, ummmm, the not so best.

I love my neighbors. But i don't need an instagram of their cats every four hours.

With the advent of instant video we are now subject to unsolicited streams of riotous children behavior, teen trauma and adult stupidity in every form. It feels like the onset of social dementia. Dumb human tricks. Home movies all over again.

And it seems there are many, everywhere. 

It was bad enough ignoring the headlines from Star, The National Enquirer, People and USA Today, FOX News and a hundred civilian vigilantes fighting for the scoop on local traffic and weather, but now we get tweets, texts and instant messaging centering on, it seems, a very narrow segment of life on this planet, as we know it. To be fair, I too am a bit myopic with my posts, choosing health, fitness, cycling, triathlon, nutrition and quality of life as fodder. I have done sunsets, cars, beer and wine, food, famous and not-so-famous athletes, guitars and the occasional unsuspecting relative. Mostly they hate when I do that.

I cruise around, you don't need to send me every link to every article on a subject that I once goggled. Just because I like some activities doesn't mean I need to be reminded that there are a hundred others opining on the same subject. I don't need new data or some study that tells me that exercise is good for you. Toss the old running shoes in the can.

There is too much filler. It is all the same stuff, repackaged. We faced this dilemma in the magazine business, the old, what now?

So today, as I made trips to the storage unit, the dump, the recycling center and the hazmat facility, I thought long and hard about this.

Finally getting an answer to my many questions, oddly, in the form of a question. And here it is:

WHAT HAVE YOU CREATED TODAY?

What have I done completely original? New and inventive? From a wholly new perspective? Something that zings out of the creative comfort zone like an arrow flying from bow.

Something, anything?

This?

Day ninety-two, she

Maybe we should be concerned with winning. When we battle a powerful enemy, either we will triumph or we will be defeated - there is no middle ground. Battling against life's negative functions is an indivisible part of this. It is by being victorious in this struggle that we become whole. We have to win. Moreover Buddhism ensures that we can definitely do so.

By staying present.
By keeping our focus here.
By thinking positive thoughts.
By putting our knowledge to use,
in gratitude, in kindness and in enthusiasm
for the spirit of battle.

We must win the battle against the negative functions. We are hopelessly outnumbered. We are the underdogs, BUT.....

We HAVE met the enemy.

And she is us.

Day ninety-one

Two videos in two days? Slightly less that phenomenal, but still.....



You can always click the title and watch in stunning HD over at the RCVman site, where we are steamrolling towards 300 vidz. THAT is phenomenal.

Day ninety Milwaukee

More on this later.

CompuTrainer.com