Day 8.136 The Frugal Videographer

Just finished booking next week's film trip to Crater Lake.

This was a tough one. Please remember that I have lost my travel expense benefits and everything is now out of pocket. I am a no-frills kinda traveler anyway, but this new situation forces me to go pro.

Contributing to the challenge are the time constraints. I have what they call a small widow of opportunity. This is not a vacation as much as I could use one.

The united confederacy of rental car companies are in full-on price gouge mode. It is peak season so that means supply and demand issues. As in they are demanding our limited supplies of cash. I usually rent a car if I am traveling on the West Coast between Canada and as far South as the Bay Area. It is a pain in the arse for a couple of reasons, the most obvious being driving time, and this coupled with summer road construction and a rash of wild fires between Seattle and Medford forced me to consider alternatives.

Bus is too long and not applicable to my schedule.

Train is even worse.

I don't have the time to ride my bike and the Honda would rip my lower back to shreds by Portland. Maybe even Centralia.

Flying was out of the equation because even my go-to airlines were following the RACs lead, asking a $400 ding for the RT. Geeze, this is Medford not Madrid fellas.

I was set to drive the Ranger, bite the bullet and camp. Eight hours down, film, sleep in the truck bed, rise early, film again and drive the return eight.

But then something clicked. Twenty hours of drive time is a lot. True, I could finish the listen of David James Duncan's marvelous The River Why on audio CD, but (clicking sound increases in volume) with the road closures and fires, not to mention the health of my back, what is my time worth? I am capturing the video as media for our brand (you DO remember Real Course Video) so this could be a profitable excursion. So get real cheap-skate. (Clicking now at Geiger-counter intensity).

I go back to work. I book an 0700 flight (tight one from the Island) using 30,000 of my Alaska Air frequent flyer miles for $11.50.

Medford apparently hasn't received the memo on price gouging so I get a car for $25/day.

Airbnb has this cute as heck room in a Christina's cabin for $50.

Toss in a tank of gas and a couple of French Slams at Denny's (substitute the meat for hash browns) and I am gold for $226.50.

Air - 11.50 (plus 30K miles)
RAC - $65
Room - $50
Gas - $50
Food - $50

The frugal videographer strikes again.

Day 8.135 Southbound

We resumed our infamous Super Eight's yesterday. I will give you the protocol again in case you have chosen to forget, which a a lot of people do.

These are done indoors on stationary bicycles, the more data collected, the better.

Warm up for twenty minutes with occasional increases in power and alternating positions (standing and sitting). Make sure you are hydrated and fully committed to the drill. The latter is crucial for a successful session. We definitely want to HTFU on these.

Pick a gear/cadence ratio that will provide you with optimum output as measured by your RPE, rate of perceived exertion. If you have access to power and heart rate data, they are useful in obtaining our goal:

30 seconds all out. Seated as hard as you can with as much focused energy as you are capable of generating. That is the goal.

Rest and recover, backing down gear and pedal speed, for 90 seconds.

Repeat 8 times.

These absolutely kill. You might never make it past one. They are not for the faint of heart Or lung, or leg.

You will be asked to keep the level of maximum intensity at 100% for the duration of the sets. You will fail. These are almost impossible to maintain at max 8 times. Your power will decrease as muscular and cardiovascular fatigue increase. We affectionately refer to this natural phenomena as power 'heading south'. This happens to everyone. From Chris Froome all the way down to me.

The important part is your effort. When your power is on the bus to Tiera del Fuego, or boarding a 737 for a mach-one escape, you must be strong and keep your effort (RPE) on high alert. You have to keep your output at, or near, 100% as long as possible. This is a huge test of your physiological acumen, or what is known as mental toughness.

A great one-two punch. Power up, confidence up, toughness up, strength up. T-count up.

We do these demanding drills once a week (0530 on Wednesdays) for 8 weeks, and then take 8 weeks off. 

The 8's have been shown to increase testosterone by more than 2,000%. A great organic way to keep your body running at optimum levels.

I have condensed the article by Dr, Mercola to list his 9 ways to increase your T levels (should they need raising).

These are a terrific way to miss that Southbound bus or get bumped from the flight, very good things in this context.



1) Lose weight
2) High Intensity exercise
3) Zinc
4) Strength Training
5) Vitamin D
6) Reduce Stress
7) Eliminate Sugar
8) Healthy Fats
9) Whey protein supplement

Day 8.134 44g

I take the usual route, entering the Safeway through the produce section. I scan the price of avocados, mushrooms and spinach. Appalled at how capitalism has fostered this outrageous inflation, I indignantly pass without a purchase.

I take a left after the potatoes and onions price check and walk past the meat department. My grandfather was a meat cutter, owning his own shop in Venice, CA for many years. I pass, but stop to have my blood pressure checked for free. I heart affordable health care.

I have returned to fish consumption after two decades of abstinence. Tuna mostly with occasional salmon. I felt that the clean protein and omega-3s would augment my dietary recovery process without inflicting too much damage to the infrastructure of our precious rives, lakes and oceans. I do not want to contribute to the carnage if I can possible help it. On-sale are two six-ounce Bluefin steaks for eight bucks. They claim to be caught in the wild on single line mono-filament. One of these with rice will soon be called dinner.

I move on towards the bakery, stopping at the milk cooler. I have been buying a chocolate protein drink for a dollar. They contain twenty-one grams of protein. Not a bad benefit to cost ratio. I check the price of eggs and simply shake my head in response to being healed hostage by the Chicken Farmers of America. It is even worse when I get to the cheese. They seem to be colluding against us. I head to the bakery section.

I buy two plain bagels, mostly for the bag.

Exiting, I scout the beer sales. Cheap hops at premium prices.

I am at the self-service checkout, a routine that I can do as fast as anyone. My net purchases consists of one bag of frozen tuna steaks, one protein shake and two bagels. I am out the automatic door, eleven dollars poorer.

As I am riding the Shadow today, enjoying the summer at seventy-two miles per gallon, I lose the luxury of dining and driving. So I rip open the protein shake, containing the twenty-one grams of precious protein and drain it in one gulp.

I am synching the helmet strap still holding the empty bottle in my hand. I look at the label and almost have a stroke. On a moto this is known as a two-stroke.

That twenty-one grams of protein came with forty-four grams of sugar.

I set out this morning after class to make an earnest attempt to isolate why I slept so poorly last night.

Forty-four grams!

Day 8.133 is Non-Negotiable

There are few things that are non-negotiable.

Not to worry, I am not using this as an opening segue for another 24 review.

We all know that we (The US) do not negotiate with terrorists.

That being confessed, here are my top three, interestingly enough, one from each of the big three category.

Mind. Body, Spirit.

I will use my mind every day in some creative way. I will write, I will manipulate media and I will read. This is not negotiable.

I will exercise. Usually twice but often three times per day. This, perhaps above all, is not negotiable.

I will meditate. I will be grateful for what I have and love what I do. I will stay present for as long as possible and try (really try) to lose what remains of my egotistical clinging and attachment to outdated paradigms. This is non negotiable, unless it becomes a natural progression towards enlightenment to lose this attachment too.

This is where the paradox lives. Is it vandalism to tag a wall with loving graffiti?

I shouldn't have to negotiate this. It is mine by birth. I saw a quote the other day that made me laugh, 'We are all born ignorant - but one must work hard to remain stupid'. The journey is the goal. We are here to do, to err, to experience and to grow.  I think it is important that we find some happiness and joy as that process unfolds.

Sadly, there is a huge percentage of our current population that have forgotten how to move. Economics aside, the dynamic diet & exercise duo can overcome a lot of other maladies. This is your body. You get one. Take care of it. Nurture it. Use it. Go ahead - overuse it. Let it rest and recover and get back at it.

I have no idea why we shy from acknowledgement of the importance that the soul plays in this miraculous mayhem. Possible because of the religious connotations. Maybe it is because no one is really an expert and that only way we are going to find out who is right is to die. How sad to face the fact that when we die it might be too late. That is then.

What is now is awareness. Your ability to stay focused and balanced. To recognize that perfection is not the goal. To be happy. To be peaceful. To help others.

Everything else will take care of itself. How could it not?

I find comfort in the fact that I will not negotiate with anyone attempting to change my approach.

Time to go for a run.

Day 8.132 Ring tone

I board Alaska flight 190 in Los Angeles, destination, Settle. We have a stop in Oakland.  It is August of 1995.

With all due respect to those of you who fly first class, the boarding process must be embarrassing for you. You sit there sipping champagne looking past the serfs with blank condescending faces doing everything imaginable to avoid eve contact.

I sometimes smile right past you, sometimes stare, sometimes greet. Depends mostly (in the post 9-11 world) on how roughed up I have been humiliatingly screened by TSA.

On this flight as we stand like ducks in a row, overloaded with carry-on waiting for tiny women to dead-lift overstuffed suitcases into overhead bins. I look at the gentleman sitting in seat one, row one. He was wearing a black leather jacket and as he raises flute to sip I see a couple of football sized championship rings on two fingers of his left hand. I cannot tell if he is looking back at me because he is behind a huge pair of shades.

'Hello Mr Davis, congratulations of all your success', I say, omitting the 'I am a big fan' white lie.

I have no idea as to how he will respond, but since we are both at rest in the same space, at least be cheerful and courteous, I think.

After his slight nod of approval, I continue, 'And an outstanding selection with your first draft pick this year, sir'.

The cat out of the bag is Husky tailback Napoleon Kaufman, taken as the 18th overall selection.

Al looks around to see if there are any NFL spies listening and using the two fingers carrying rings branded with the onyx and diamond Raiders logo, he begs me to come closer.

Eyes widened by his intent, I bend slightly to catch his drift.

'Kid has got a rocket strapped to his ass.'

The line moves and I must go.

'He does, I've seen it. Have a nice flight sir.'

Al smiles, nods, turns to look out the window.

Day 8.131 This Time as Duty

I am doing this not so much as a favor, but more as duty.
As you know, a devastatingly brutal (or insanely comical) series of events has led me full circle.
The brother that first came here seeking refuge is now the brother offering it back to me.
I have set up an operations center in his garage. It is cozy and comfortable and I am content.
Comfort and convenience however is not the mission. The assignment is to sell the house.
We all agree that finances, or lack thereof, are at the root of the problem.
The house, the 2002 construction of which I videotaped from lot clearing to ribbon cutting, is their last remaining major asset. Their money problems are compounded by every typical and tragic issue facing the doomed middle class today.
They are ready to sell the dream to rent some piece of mind.
It is stressful. There are deep-seated emotions. There is the responsibility of an innocent twelve year old boy.
As far as I can tell, acting as unbiasedly as possible, there is only one way out.
Sell the house, move on.
At least that way they can clean up their financial obligations, get out of debt, remove the tension of debt collection, bite the bullet and start anew. And hopefully with a few dollars in pocket.
I can speak from experience that there is cathartic peace in that.
Simple it down. Relax. Review and resume. Carry on. Grow from the experience.
We decided that we would test a for sale by owner campaign first. In the hope of saving a couple of large in broker fees. I know the drill. It is a pain in the rear, but I can oversee the crossing of T's and dotting of I's.
Yesterday I assembled the Craig's List post to launch the campaign. Here is the link should you, or someone you know, have interest. And a short video.
The bittersweetness is beyond ironic.
I am literally working myself towards homelessness. Again.
This time as duty.

Day 8.130 I like Saturday best

I have always looked forward to Saturdays.

In the early, formative years the irony centered around the end of the school week and two glorious days of freedom. The irony being, of course, that what should have been the formative was actually the painfully rebellious and what should have been the adventurous and explorational, was the formative. I worked hard on the weekends, slept through arithmetic and geography.

In my teens, Saturdays were about baseball and the beach. By 15 girls and music were added to the mix.

By the time I was legal to purchase and consume, Saturn's days became more Saturn's nights. This created some problems. Sunday's, as an example, were s-l-o-w days and I became a master of the nap on couch, pretending to watch professional athletes play war games on TV. Heck, I even golfed for a while.

With the introduction of the adult responsibilities of a real job, even a career, a steady girl, soon to be wife, a mortgage, two cars and three horses, Saturday's became just another day to either make money or make hay. Usually both.

The career aspect saw a lot of Saturday's as travel days.

Later, we are into our 40's now, Saturdays became fun again. Softball tournaments and triathlon, biking and running, adventure travel. Weekends at the cabin in the woods with lovers of all things poetic.

Then came Husky football. What a Saturday: Preparations, packing lunches, ferrying across with a boat full of purple and gold, ready and rabid fans, The pre-game rituals, the contest itself, the lingering into Sunday afterglow. Please remember at this point that we saw some great Husky teams in the 80s and 90s, one of them, 1991 to be precise, a National Champion. But they were all fun. With the exception of the occasional loss to the Cougs in the Apple Cup. Heck we beat Oregon on a very regular basis.

Now my Saturday's are colored in a shade of gray. They still make my heart beat a little faster an add an imperceptible spring to step, and I try to fill each with challenge and value.

Now the highlight is often the morning's 90 minute spin session. We have a committed and enthusiastic core group that looks to these sessions much like a tailback looks for daylight. Much like a shortstop twisting a deuce, Like turning a passion from hobby to profession. Like a successful competition. Like a come-from-behind victory. Like a sunny, summer afternoon at the beach. Like a well deserved day of rest.

I will always like Saturdays best. It is best effort.

Especially when that 90 minutes is over.