Tour of Cal No More

So the news is out there that the Tour of California week-long professional bicycle stage race will not be returning for the year of 2020 which in my mind puts it at extreme rick of never occurring at some future date.

It's a bit sad and surprising. It seemed to be well attended and sponsored. And there were some great stages over the years.

A couple of favorite stages that come to mind were both seen in person. It's still the only bicycle race I've ever seen from the ground. I remember George Hincapie crushing it on a breakaway on several loops around the Rose Bowl which also included a climb up and out and back in, I think up Holly St somehow. That was some great hard fought racing! I think that was the first race I ever saw.

And then one year a stage started right here in town. Which was lot's of fun. Mission Street was closed off all morning with all the team cars and bikes lined up for viewing and general swag and excitement all around. I even pulled my daughter out of school early that morning so we could soak in all things cycling for a brief moment. She was in Pre-K at the time so really big deal, I know! I wonder if she'll remember that.

In recent years I've felt a little overwhelmed with riding the mountain roads around here because of all the speeding cars and motorcycles. It hasn't felt safe up there on a bicycle for a long time but I do love those roads and those mountains. And that was one of the amazing side effects of Tour of Cal - it closed off roads to cars for the racers but fans on bicycles could still head up early before the race and enjoy the mountains car free - oh, and sure, the race... I'm realizing now that I didn't take nearly enough advantage of that loophole...

sneak up on opportunities

When I was a kid, like, in my teens, I liked to work on cars. Tinkering, turning bolts, fixin' stuff... but mostly just hangin' around with other car people... There was an older guy, probably in his sixties or seventies back then, whose house we'd frequently hang out at - there were always a least a few old cars in various stages of repair lined up in his driveway.

He'd been fixin' stuff his whole life it seemed and pretty much new all the answers to our questions even if he usually tried to hold back his opinions and let us figure it out on or own. He mostly just sat around in a folding lawn chair nearby and drank. There's a certain kind of clinking sound that ice makes on those hard plastic tumbler glasses and that sound still reminds me of him. We called him Chuck. Not his real name. Not changed here for privacy, that's just what we called him.

To give you an idea of his ways, we were once trying to figure out why one particular car kept leaking oil on the ground. Chuck didn't tell us what was likely to be the source of the problem but rather suggested we just pour the oil straight on to his driveway instead of into the engine - "Avoid the middleman," he laughed and laughed...

And his advice for those tough to loosen stuck bolts, "Well, you gotta sneak up on 'em, ya see... Don't let that bolt know what you're up to until - Wham!" And, you know what, it often works.

And in that same way, we've sometimes got to sneak up on those moments in our day when we can get out and do our thing - whatever that thing might be... a run, a blog post... Things can't always be planned and scheduled. Sometimes we gotta just say, Hey, I've got a few moments here all of a sudden and - Wham! Get out there...

smokey season

There's wildfires burning all over the state. Again. Some of them are even fairly close to Mindful Mule. Within a couple dozen miles. They've been burning now for a couple of weeks I'd guess. It's been very dry. Like 5% humidity on some afternoons. And it was pretty hot a few days ago. 97 degrees. This morning it was down around 44 degrees. Amazingly, if it weren't for all the news reports I'd have little idea that anything was even going on through all of this. There have been slightly gustier winds but nothing too significant. But today there is an obviously strong presence of smoke in the air. So much that I'm trying my best to stay inside. The fires haven't gotten any closer. I guess the wind has just shifted a little bit. Bringing the smoke my way. There Air Quality Index is still hovering down at around 50. Which is really not too bad. Given the strong smell of smoke I would imagine the AQI to be much higher. It's a very heavy air out there. It seems unhealthy. I wonder if maybe smoke doesn't directly affect the AQI reading. It should register as a particulate at least. There's been a lot of talk about the Santa Ana winds that are driving the flames. There's always a lot of talk about The Santa Anas. I've heard about these winds for as long as I can remember - for life. They've been a big part of that life, too. A long current of natural connection. They even burned down Brown Mountain ten years ago. Remember that?! And yet they feel like home. If the Santa Anas picked up a bit they'd blow the smoke away from me and Mule and we could get on with things. But they would also fan the flames downwind of here and extend the fire threat to others. It's very still out there right now. So I'll just stay put and sniff around some more. Maybe write you all a little note...

Friends Don’t Let Friends Wear Sheer Bibs And Other Adventures in Lycra

Sometimes we become overly attached to our garments. Perhaps an old t-shirt from that trail race back in Aught Seven with the sweet multicolor silkscreen logo…  a pair of comfortable shoes that walked with us all over this earth… or our first pair of cycling bibs! We just can’t seem to throw them out and don’t really even want to stop wearing them despite their faded, ripped, stained, holey condition. 

It took me a long time to come to cycling bibs. Lycra shorts, sure. They’re comfortable for long spirited rides. Those have been with me for decades. (I like that I can pretty much throw the word decades into any conversation these days…) But as I don’t wear suspenders with my pants—let alone my shorts!—it never quite made sense to use them for my cycling, which is kinda sorta what bibs are, although to a much sexier level—you can tell already I’ve been turned… But one day a trusted riding friend was adamant about their advantages and so I thought I’d give them a try… And they are great. And sexy! But that’s not what this post is about…

We become attached to our things. We like to keep wearing them. They’re cool or comfortable or maybe we don’t want to throw down a hundred bucks to replace them… 

Have you ever been riding behind someone, though, and they seem to be wearing one of their old favorite shorts or bibs that have developed a certain amount of thinning of the fabric so that you are more or less just looking at their butt? Mostly just the top half of the buttocks as the chamois pad will always block vision into the lower depths. But there is clearly a cleavage thing happening that in certain angles of light may be more pronounced. I see it pretty frequently. I’ve grown more or less immune to it. I mean, it’s just a butt. And really, a cyclist’s butt at that and so often times a pretty nice butt! If you don’t want to look at it just ride faster…

But. Then there’s also the coffee stops and such. Again, not a big problem if you’re encircled by your riding crew. But if you’re alone or still waiting on the crew’s arrival or at the edge of Le Peloton de Cafe (not really a phrase) and seated next to a non-cyclist, a non-understander of the culture of a crew of old men that find it okay to ride around looking at each other’s butts… well, then, sometimes a certain insecurity arrises. A wondering. Have I worn these bibs too far? Am I offending that family breakfast over there? 

So my suggestion to the cycling crew is to be in communication with each other. It’s okay to tell your friend that maybe it’s time to throw down that hundred bucks… 

And anyway, a nice fresh pair of bibs feels really great!

PermaGrin

As with most things in life our dedication to riding can ebb and flood. (Why isn't that the saying?) Numerous contributing factors account for this - season, sleep, injury, stress, busy-busy-busy, training, et cetera. But for those of us that actually like riding, love it even, it's sometimes harder to tell the difference between excitement and monotony. Joy&Suffering. War&Peace. Grin&Grimace.

Anyone who's watched a little of the pro cycling season is familiar with announcers commonly commenting about a stone-faced rider, not giving up any indication to their competitors about whether they are about to shoot out for a breakaway or are just hanging on by a thread and hoping not to get dropped.

And if you think about it, this all sort of makes sense for anyone that does a lot of riding. Regularly riding to the tops of mountains, for instance, requires some determination, some grit, some amount of pain even if it is chosen and enjoyable - dancing on that line between Suffering&Struggle. Is it a grimace on the way up and a grin at the top? At what point do they slowly fade from one to the other? Done enough times and even the rider will stop noticing the difference - think of them the same way. Start grinning at suffering.

On good days there's that moment. A moment we sometimes have to wait for for some time. Like waiting for spring, for our injuries to heal, for our rides to get longer, for the sun to finally shine through the gloom... for that solo ride where your legs just want to spin forever and your lungs seem only to be continuously breathing in... and all of a sudden you feel it... you're smiling! You're having fun! Enjoying! Joy&Peace&Grin!

Forward Ho!

I don't want to open up a whole other conversation about the use of turn signals, and lack thereof, and how incredibly relevant they are to proper road flow, but there is one somewhat unusual element of it that keeps popping up for me. 

There's a road that circles the Rose Bowl stadium in Pasadena. It's a loop with a few feeder roads coming in and out of it. The loop encloses a fairly large area, as in addition to the stadium and relatively limited-seeming car parking area, there is also a golf course where during stadium events the extra/overflow (perhaps the majority of) cars are parked. The loop road is 3.1 miles around. Which makes it perfect for several 5K run/walk events to be held there every year. The road planners couldn't possibly have intended that but it works out quite nicely. 

The loop is used daily by many people. Walkers, runners, bikers, primarily. And rollerblading seems to be making a meager comeback. I guess the attraction for all these people is that it's a somewhat social, safe place to go and get some nice views of the San Gabriel Mountains and people watch and maybe a central enough place to meet one's friends. And while it's not exactly car traffic free there is somewhat of an easing of the mental effort required to navigate along normal city streets. 

Three miles is a pretty long walk. I imagine most people walk one lap. It's a great distance for a run and, depending on what you're into, one or two laps can be great. Three miles on a bike is pretty easy. So multiple laps are required if you're going to get much out of it. I've done my fair share of mind numbing multiple laps there before. Turn off brain - spin. Endless clockwise loops. You'll never be able to remember how many laps you've made. 

And so many cyclists do this loop around and around and around that every single car drivers knows exactly where every cyclist is going to go... Or they think they know. 

(Even the cops! I've been stopped on my bike by a cop there as they were preparing to close the loop down to "recreational use" in order to clear the area for a Rose Bowl event. He said, "You have to turn around and go back to your car." LOL. Car?!) 

But not every cyclist is riding laps. Sometimes a cyclist is just passing through the area to get to somewhere else. Which brings me to my point. Imagining the loop as a clock face in which riders are moving clockwise, at about the 10 o'clock there is a right turn to stay on the loop. Every ridder takes it - almost! But one can also go straight ahead there and leave the loop to go elsewhere in the world - anything to avoid riding around in circles... At this same intersection there is a stop sign for vehicles coming from the 11 o'clock - counter clockwise. But no stop sign for vehicles turning right or going straight forward. 

So, a car stops at the stop sign. No turn is indicated. The car can only go left or right. Which is it? The driver looks left. Sees an approaching vehicle. The operator of the vehicle (a bicycle it may be but a vehicle it still is!) has not indicated a turn. Therefore, is continuing straight forward. However, the driver of the car at the stop sign knows that every bicycle turns right to continue on the Rose Bowl Loop. Assumes the approaching bicycle/vehicle is turning right. Pulls directly in front of said vehicle. 

So, I, as the operator of the approaching vehicle, signal straight ahead. I am leaving the Rose Bowl loop on my bicycle - going off the clock, so to speak. But there is no official hand signal for that. I point straight ahead - forward. Sometimes I point slightly upward and ahead as there is a short steep hill that rises out and away from the loop. 

Actually I've taken to doing a lot of pointing anyway when I use hand turn signals. Hopefully it helps people understand. I don't know. I only know that I generally feel ridiculous sitting up tall on my saddle and pointing straight ahead as if an alien spaceship is landing I want everyone to see or as if reenacting the crossing of the Delaware... 

t-shirt communications

It’s early on a bright, sunny Monday morning and I’m out for my regular easy run up and down the street. I’m stopped, waiting to cross the intersection by the new coffee shop. I’ve pressed the pedestrian button to trip the traffic signal so I can cross the street but I’m looking around, checking out the new shop and the woman walking toward me on the sidewalk with her little fluffy dog. Maybe I’m holding my glance at her a little too long. I’m trying to figure her out. She’s wearing a green t-shirt. It’s got the logo from the Irish pub across the street. Is she somehow affiliated with the pub? I’ve never seen her in there before but she looks vaguely familiar. Wait. It’s the day after St. Patrick’s Day. Has she been out all night? She doesn’t seem the type… but what do I know. I turn to face the street. My light will be turning soon… 

“That must be a tough race! Did you win?” she quips. 

It takes me a second to realize she’s talking to me. Why is she talking to me? Oh, she’s commenting on my shirt. I take a quick glance down to the logo on the front of my shirt because out of the dozen or so race t-shirts I have crammed into my drawer at home I really have no idea which one I’m wearing. I really never do. I don’t care. It’s not a statement. It’s a free shirt (just pay the exorbitant race fee!). They’re wicking and light and other than the fact that they smell like hell before you even put them on I still wear them. They function well enough - sort of. There’s a blue mule printed on my chest. I do a quick scan of my remaining brain matter. Ah. Mt. Wilson Trail Race. Don’t remember which year. Doesn’t matter. 

“Oh. No. I did not win… very steep up there!” I respond, trying to be somewhat cheery for this St. Patty, while at the same time hoping that the conversation will end, because, although I’ve turned now and am no longer facing the street but my new companion, I’m sure my light has changed and I’d like to cross and continue my run - my heart rate is dropping like a brick! And what was it that I was just thinking about before I got to this intersection… another lost blog post! 

I think she kind of gets it. But as she’s waking away, now crossing the train tracks with her puppy-doodle, she actually offers out some surprisingly genuine trail knowledge. “I’ll bet! I used to take the Girl Scouts up there…” 

“Ah! Okay! Thanks!” I say. Or some such words. She keeps going her way. I turn to check the light. It has changed for me. I can still make it across.  

A few blocks further along I recall the lost blog post - not a very good one - not even a title - just a topic, a sensation… Why are my calves sore? I read something about trying to engage one’s glutes to help alleviate stress on the calves… how exactly does one do that, again? But that’s already lost its interest for me. So my calves are sore. Probably from the big weekend. All I want to know now is how did she get that t-shirt… and how can I get one?!

Underwear and How to Wear It (Part II)

And now for an epiphany twenty-five years in the making. In part one of this thread, if I recall, I haven't bothered to reread it, LOL, I essentially relayed the pro (read: amateur) tip about wearing ones underwear inside-out. A great tip. It does help. But something still wasn't quite complete. Something has been nagging at me. I kept thinking about underwear. And running shorts. And why do they have that liner? An extra layer to trap heat that no runner needs except maybe in the depths of a SoCal winter. So I thought about cutting it out. I'm a fan of altering ones clothing to fit ones needs. I do it with my running shirts all the time, or, I should say, to almost all of them. I cut off all the hems around the neck and sleeves and waistline. It's in a post. "It's down there somewhere." But not without careful thought. Always with careful thought, the cutting. But I just couldn't get myself to cut out the liner in my shorts. Why is it there? Why is it always there? I kept asking myself while staring at the ceiling as I lay awake through the middle of the night wishing I could just get out and go for a run like a lunatic a two-thirty in the morning. (Hashtag: Way of the future?) Finally it came to me. I'm not sure why this took me so long to approach. I mean, I've been running my entire adult life. And I'm getting pretty old! I'm totally half way through. Is this my midlife crisis? Well, I hope so. Because it's going to be a whole lot cheaper than a red Porsche convertible and the complications that would arise from its Barbie-esc accompaniment. And it will save You money too! All will benefit and stay cooler through this revving up summer season. So here it is. Underwear and How to Wear It. Don't. Just don't. What do you think that liner is for?! I mean, two pairs of underwear? Isn't that a little extravagant? So now you'll save money because you can stop buying thirty dollar running underwear. And be less stinky! And run cooler! You might feel a little like a pervert for the first few runs. But you'll get used to it...

Sunglasses are so cool… Or are they? (Part II)

Having previously determined that sunglasses are not nearly as cool as we give them credit for, I’ll move on now to the flip side of this, as usual, counterintuitive storyline. Cool, cloudy, wettish days are when sunglasses really shine. Because they keep the skin around your eyes blocked from the cold wind and therefore give you the impression that you’re not so cold. And as we’ve likely all learned by now it’s all about our impressions of this world. Our minds rule our world. If we can tweak some minor sensory inputs that factor into these impressions, these perceptions then we expand the limits of what our mind will allow. We may only be talking about micro adjustments here, marginal gains, in the parlance of our times… but more and more I’m starting to believe that the difference between feeling good on a run and feeling like crap can be ever so slight, if not even the same but with a different perspective. As in running, in cycling, in life… put on those rose-colored glasses (or take them off or whatever) and enjoy these moments just a little longer, fuller, faster… a little more…

when locals disappear

There are a few riders that I frequently see passing by on my street. I know them well as riders only. I don’t know their names or where they live except that I assume (perhaps wrongly) based on their regular presence that they are from somewhere fairly nearby. Although, my street is a common throughway for many people on foot and bikes and cars so they may live far away. But to me they are the local riders. I know each one of them by their style and posture and cadence as they’re coming up or down the street long before I could possibly recognize their faces. And, actually, if I were to be standing next to one of them in, let’s say, the checkout line at the grocery store, I’m quite sure I’d have no idea who they were unless they happened to be wearing their full kit. But still they are my locals—people I look out for—my friends, if only imaginary… 

Which is all well and good (having imaginary friends—they’re so easy to deal with!) But in cycling things take a twist. We hear stories, read the news about, know people who… let’s say, didn’t come back from their ride. And so we worry. We worry when we haven’t seen one of the locals for a while. We hope they’re just taking some time off… nursing an overuse injury… taking another route these days… or maybe they moved to Portland… We hope they’re okay. 

And so it is with great joy that when, after what seems like months have passed, we see them again, riding by, looking more or less the same and unharmed… we want to jump up and wave and call out and hug them! But they don’t know me and I don’t know them and maybe they’ve never even seen me on my bike—maybe I’ve never ridden past their house. So I can’t—we can’t. But, to all those local cyclists, my friends, please remember when you’re out there that I am looking out for you, that we are looking out for each other… and please try to remember to ride by my place once in a while! 

mindfulness bell

On another one of those too early Monday morning routes I found myself sleepily pedaling along in a bit of a haze. Not really paying attention to all that much that was going on around me. Probably not the best state of mind to be riding with. It was just another one of those days as far as I was concerned. I came around a curve and out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse (could it be... a fleeting glimpse!), a fluttering - a downward spiraling fluttering... and then, still more or less unaware... pling... the softest little faerie ding I've ever heard. Comparable only to that bitchin', dark, slow, quiet backroom jazz trio wire brush percussion accompaniment... The stem of the falling oak leaf had brushed against my bicycle's bell, Mindful Mule's bell... Mindful Mule's Mindfulness Bell! And suddenly, oh my! It was autumn! I looked up at the sky, the beautiful blue crisp sky, and the light and the colors and the clarity and the sharpness of the details - everywhere! It was going to be a beautiful day! It was a beautiful day. And I was there, awake, aware, mindful...

Sunglasses are so cool... or are they?

There was a time in my life when I never left the house without my sunglasses. We certainly get enough sunny days here in SoCal to justify that habit. When it comes to riding the bike around my habits haven't changed all that much. Sometimes on those early weekend morning group rides it's hard to remember every little detail for preparation when sleep is still lingering: coffee(!), breakfast, pump tires, sunscreen, lube(!), arm sleeves(and/or etc. to weather), snacks, electrolyted water, cash, credit card, lip balm(!)... and let's see... helmet(!)... I know I'm still forgetting something... Ah! Sunglasses! I did forget my sunglasses on a ride recently. It felt very strange. Almost like one of those dreams where you've forgotten to wear pants to school... I must have been very tired that morning! As a result my eyes were watering for much of the ride from all that wind that they're not accustomed to. 

On long, hot, sunny running days, too, I've found that sunglasses can be very helpful - partly for their light dimming effects, but perhaps more for the psychological swaddling. Never heard of that? That's because we don't like to admit that we're essentially hiding behind those sunglasses a lot of the time. I mean, it's fashion, really. We all do it. Dress a certain way to fulfill a certain look. Ever seen a security guard wearing a pink Hello Kitty hoodie? 

Or as the Mule would suggest: wear blinders. Block every distraction out. Pull that cap down low. Ignore your sleepiness, your hangover, your fatigue, your knee tweak... get that run done! 

But what about those days when you don't desperately need those blinders? Running, as we all know, generates heat. And I'll take any little bit of cooling I can get. In an attempt to capture these marginal gains of cooling I've recently been running without a hat and without sunglasses. The hat and sunglasses keep the sun off but they also block wind and trap heat. So find a shadier route to run and and allow yourself to be a little more exposed... and a little cooler. 

Smashing Goatheads

Well it's goathead season again. And it seems to be a good crop this year. They've spread all over the place. Probably the way of the future. So far I've seen three in my bike tires. Only one resulting in a flat. One of them I picked out and carried home with me, not knowing what to do with it otherwise. I didn't want to throw it to the side of the road where it might sprout a new plant for the following season. I didn't want to drop it back in the gutter or road where it might just cause the next cyclist to flat. When I got home I decided the best thing to do was to plant it. I know it sounds crazy but bear with me. My thinking was that it would be restricted to the small pot that I planted it in. The thorny seedpod would breakdown and germinate in my little back patio plant collection and would not cause harm to any more tires. Additionally I'm kinda interested to see how long it takes to grow. And aside from its nasty little thorned seeds it really is quite a lovely sprawling specimen. Of course once it starts producing its seeds next season I'll have to murder it. Sweet, sweet revenge!

As for any other goatheads I pick up along the way in the future I imagine I won't be wanting to take any more of them home with me. So I've decided, and I've already started this procedure with that third goathead, to destroy any goatheads at the side of the road using whatever is available to me. A small stone worked well to smash that last one to smithereens... (insert crazed cackling laugh...)

If a tree falls in the forest...

Or... If we run through the forest, or the arroyo, or the town and we don't track it with GPS, or post it to Strava, or even calculate our minutes per mile, did it really happen? Does it even count? 

Running has become such a tangled community of one with the many. There are occasional group runs and when we post our activities to social media we have the potential to make new friends and maybe new actual running groups as opposed cyber groups. Still so much of running is a solo pursuit, though. We have our various schedules and paces and goals and so almost by default we are sent out into the running world alone most of the time - but not really quite alone anymore. What used to be secret, quiet, dark early mornings alone are now so often shared  with our "friends." Some of these people we may see on a regular basis and some of them we might have never even met. How much of our running are we doing for them and how much are we doing for ourselves? Do we ever run unplugged? Or without headphones... or without blogging it! 

Running just for running... running on the land... for joy, for fun... for the feeling of being a human running... footfall, footfall, footfall... in nature, on earth... with the spirit... with god...

Après Le Tour de France

Another Tour has come to a close but I still have so many images and colors flashing through my head - the riders, the landscapes, the fans, the towns... So much to reminisce about!

And deeper lessons to be found. One thing that I'm reminded of year after year because of my Tour addiction is to ride ones bicycle out in the proper place in the road. We see that these racers get closed roads for all three weeks and wouldn't that be swell! To ride wherever one wants anywhere on the road - even on the wrong side of the road on a screaming descent around blind corners! I don't think I could get myself to ride like that even if the roads were completely closed. But dialing it back a little... I find myself riding further out in the road after each Tour. Out in the proper place. In a safe position to avoid the door zone and mindful, of course, of the fact that many drivers find this a confusing, frustrating place for a bicycle to be and so giving them the impression of yielding towards the right to allow them to pass on the left. It's very nearly a Jedi mind trick. Starting out in one's safe and responsible and appropriate and legal place on the road - I don't want to get into the number of feet/meters from a curb or car because every situation is different and must be adapted to on the fly - as the sound of an overtaking vehicle approaches from behind the bicycle rider ever so slightly slides to the right - and here I'll suggest that it often doesn't take more than a few inches to pacify the passing driver. Of course, if the situation and the surroundings allow for it, go ahead and give more - as much as possible, really - why would one want to ride anywhere near a car - but, as we all know, sometimes we must...

So There. Leçons de Le Tour.

Bridging the Gap of Acknowledgement

We're all in our own little worlds. Bridging the gap to communicate with someone in their world can sometimes be a challenge. It helps if you're more or less on the same plane, experiencing the same flow.... but not always.

For example: Cyclists! That ever strange gaggle of interpreters and complicated communicators. Cyclists seem to scan other cyclists for everything from rider positioning, geometry, kit, components, frame brand, speed, etc. in order to decide whether or not that other rider gets a quick wave or nod of the head or ignored!

Runners aren't a hell of a lot better with each other. The chances of getting a quick wave of acknowledgement decrease over the terrain on which one is running - I'm gonna go with 60% for trails and then decreasing through paths, roads, and sidewalks...

Hikers might be the best at interacting with each other. Kudos! Possibly 8 or 9 out of 10 will initiate or respond for quick interaction. Yet walkers, strangely, have perhaps the lowest score of all: maybe it's all too close for comfort around town at close range and Is that person waving at me a crazy psychopath?

Oh, yeah. Drivers. Sorry. You're last. Not even a turn signal anymore. When was the last time anyone waved at a stranger in a car passing in the other direction. Maybe on a country road somewhere - which brings up the point, of course these percentages are going to change for different regions around the state, country, world... but I'm experiencing this here now and it's probably spreading your way soon if it hasn't already arrived.

Now, back to bridging that gap. If we're going with the highly researched (LOL) 60% best hope for wave back communication between people sharing the same trail running experience, what kind of expectation do we have for cross activity interaction? A cyclist to a runner? Unprecedented! Dismal.

But why? Let's change all that. Let's step outside our little worlds and be a part of the big one! And then, ironically, the world will be a smaller place...

Why, just today, I waved at a driver for intentionally not right hooking me! Amazing.

A wave, a peace sign, a wink... It's all good...

And pretty soon everyone all over the place will be waving and smiling and chatting and getting to know each other and all like, You go ahead... No, you go ahead... No, really, you go ahead, I'm in no rush...

It will be hilariously safe and we'll all get to where we're going 5 minutes late and no one will care because we'll all be on the same flowing plane...

Underwear and How to Wear It

Underwear. You may not think about it too often, but if you're a runner you probably should. Because it does a lot for us as runners with all that wicking and cooling and supporting, etc. But it can also do a lot to us; two words come to mind: Stink and Chafe. Yep.

As far as the stink goes I still have no real clear understanding of why activewear of any kind seems to smell so terrible so quickly. Nor do I have any suggestions on how to address the issue - but I'd love to hear some!

With chafe, on the other hand, I've discovered something. Clearly a lot of research and development has gone into the making of the running specific underwear that is now widely available at your local running shop. It's so soft and sleek and smooth and, I mean, it even looks beautiful! But all too often that smooth beauty is only on the outside. And while those no-see-'em seams do look great in the print ads and websites, they won't do you much good if they're not against your skin... So if your running underwear doesn't have flat inner seams, wear it inside out. Trust me, you're gonna like it...

And, yes, of course there's lube of all sorts these days, and I highly recommend them! But wouldn't it be better if those were less of a necessity and more of a preference...

a little bit at a time

Sometimes little pieces of conversations linger in our minds. Mottos, mantras, advice - call them what you will. I've had some of these lodged in my head for decades. They surface once in a while. Bits and epiphanies on our longer challenges...

I wonder if the people who spoke these words remember them. If they still hold onto them all these years later as I do or if the words were left where they were spoken - unnoticed and discarded moments of genius...

One of these moments goes back twenty years, more or less exactly. There was a guy going about his work - unloading or loading a truck (it's endlessly one or the other, right?) - and a passerby commented, as they strangely often do, saying something like, "Big job today, eh?!" Our truck guy responded sagely, as if he'd always thought of it this way, "a little bit at a time..." 

And of course! I mean, how else?! You can't unload it all at once! And even if you could there's another ton to load right back up... And then there's tomorrow and the next day and on... 

Another moment that's been surfacing for me recently is from about ten years ago (probably not exactly!). A brief acquaintance of mine was discussing the methodical approach of a good welder. He used a certain phrase to describe the process. It's probably a phrase well used in the welding trade but it was the first and only time I've heard it: "Laying down nickels." He could have said dimes or quarters, I don't remember, but the point is he was talking about one weld about the size of a coin. One coin at a time... a little overlapping the last one... patiently laying down perfect quality nickel-sezied welds... all the way down the line... over and over and over again. No rush. You've got all day... and tomorrow and on... A little bit at a time... 

Just like each step, each stride, each pedal stroke. You can't get there in one giant leap! And you shouldn't even try. It will probably take you longer and lead to injury. Quick steps. Low gears. Again and again... All the way down the line... 

darkness

The days have been getting longer now for about a month. I can almost get home in the evening without lights on the bike. But not quite. And anyway, it's probably better to overlap significantly into the various shades of dusk. The dream world, however, seems to lag behind a bit - still hung up on darkness. The other night I was riding my bike in darkness, in dream. Isn't it nice to get those extra miles in! I was riding up Arroyo Blvd. A route I take frequently. It's a nice windy road with older homes on the east and the Arroyo Seco natural area and wash to the west. Always, it seems, as I come around one particular bend in the road there is a car parked on the right side which forces me further left into the lane. I usually anticipate this. And it wouldn't be a problem except that, well, you know, why do so many cars take this route? And this night, this dream, was no exception. I rolled around the bend through the darkness, drifting left to move around the parked car. That was when I noticed I'd forgotten my light. I didn't see the beam reflecting off the car. Interesting that we otherwise hardly need lights at night, if we could always be riding alone out there on the streets. And it was then that I heard the sound of two other cyclists overtaking me to my left. I gave a quick wave of the hand which was illuminated in their headlights. They didn't seem to mind that I had no light, understanding that, well, who needs one, if we have the road to ourselves... As they passed I also realized that I'd forgotten my helmet. (At least I had my pants!) And it was fine. Out on a bike in the cool darkness... 

kefir

For any of us pursuing endurance activities, there's no doubt we've already heard about the benefits to recovery of consuming a certain amount of protein within a half hour or so after any physical endeavor. There's probably some very specific information out there detailing the number of grams that should be consumed within a given number of minutes and what source those grams should come from, etc. For those of us that are trying not to take things to too crazy a degree but want to get some benefit from the studies, I'd say a good middle ground is: have some protein after your run (ride, whatever). In the course of watching various Tours de France and marathons on television I've inevitably been exposed to that commercial featuring that latest triathlon champion coming in from what is presumably some tropical island to island swim and proceeding directly to the business of chugging a bottle of chocolate milk. Apparently it has all the essential nutritional elements needed for optimal recovery from your workout. Primarily, presumably, protein. So, again, in my meager attempt to follow along withe the basic ideals of endurance enhancing nutrition, I've come to emulate this tri hero... in my own way, of course. Somehow, chocolate milk sounds a bit, how should I saw this, un-refreshing. And there must be a lot of sugar in there that might not be necessary for all of us. But, and assuming you've already read the title of this post, this won't come as a surprise, I've discovered that kefir, that drinkable hippy yogurt that I recall from my youth in the seventies, is a great and delicious and easy way to get those several grams of protein. The idea being something like, let your body cool down a bit and then sip some water, probably take a shower and then grab that big bottle out of the fridge and take a swig or two - yes! right from the bottle! Why not? And a bottle will go for a whole bunch of swigs so it could easily last a week or so. The flavored varieties tend to be fruity and refreshing, although, then you're dealing with added sugars again, so I've weened myself down to plain - you get used to it. And even start to believe the claim on the back of the bottle that, indeed, kefir is "The Champagne of Dairy... "