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... "

the coldest ride I ever spent

There's something to that old saying about California... and even though I don't live in San Francisco—rather further south—I often find that the coldest ride of the year, or walk for that matter, is an evening in late summer. I guess because when it's in the mid-80s during the day one doesn't think to bring along a sweater. But then you stay out a little later than planned and suddenly the sun has dropped far below the ridge and the breeze has picked up and miles to go before we sleep... And maybe the body isn't quite acclimatized to the light chill, having fought hard all summer to relearn how to shed any and all extra heat... and then you start shivering and you're even out of practice at that so it just runs on uncontrollably and then you're cold.

The Art of Crashing

Start by getting a nice long warmup ride so you’re relaxed and comfortable on the bike. Find a wide shaded street with an ever so gentle downgrade - an un-false flat, if you will. Shift into the big ring and find an easy cadence, turning a cog somewhere in the middle range. Don’t rush. Your front tire will be thrown out by a small bump in the road, presumably a tree root pushing up the asphalt. The rear tire will follow and buck the bike up into the air. This will happen fast—without opportunity to make any adjustments or corrections. You’ll try but won’t quite be able to piece together this sequence of events later. There will be a sensation of rolling, tumbling along the ground. Curled up in a heap in the gutter, you’ll think, “Oh no.” Are you okay? Are you okay? I don’t know. Can I help you up? Uh, just a sec. Am I okay? I don’t know. How did I get so dirty? Thanks for stopping. Where’s my bike? It’s way over there—I saw it flipping through the air! Are you okay? It looks like your derailleur is toast. Are you okay? I don’t know. I think so… Drink that last sip of water. Straighten the handlebars. Just get on the bike. Get to that park. Get some water. Wash off the blood and dirt. Soft, soft, soft pedal home. Just get home. Just seven miles. Just get home… 

traffic calming ahead

I first saw the sign, “Traffic Calming Ahead,” several years ago, a few miles from home. I was a little confused by it. And yet, intrigued by it, as well. It was, after all, a rather traffic-y day so the thought that traffic would be calmer ahead seemed a pleasant notion. Somehow a fixed metal sign couldn’t possibly be giving realtime updates, could it? Maybe it was more psychological than that. The age old Jedi Mind Trick… Tell people that traffic will be calming ahead and they’ll relax and traffic will actually calm! (Sorry, one should never put an exclamation point after calm—that just doesn’t look right.) 

I’ve seen this sign now a few other places, although I forget where. And somewhere along the way I figured out that it was warning of various techniques and/or devices such as “road furniture” intended to create a safer, smoother, calmer road experience for all users. 

Despite these signs, and their psychologically coercive powers, traffic has not calmed. At least not the outliers of traffic. Certainly I’d like to recognize those among us that are calming influences in our road community—the “non-anxious presence in traffic,” as One Speed Go put it (I can’t stop thinking about that, by the way.) So there’s, like, this 65/35 ratio, I’d guess. 65% are cool. 35% are freaking out. 

And more to my point, they’re freaking me out! I mean, hey, man, I’m just trying to bliss-out here. I’m just peacefully following the rules of traffic like the majority of us are, moving calmly along, navigating the roadways. I’ve got the sails all set just right with the perfect breeze, a loose grasp on the mainsheet, leaning back to starboard… when all of a sudden a speedboat comes roaring through across my line, leaving a wake of turbulence that really salts my game, ruffles my feathers, takes the wind out of my sails, bums me out, man… 

Sometimes these speedboats are cars, sometimes dogs, sometimes comments… And it makes me reluctant to ride. Because riding isn’t fun in those situations and it feels unsafe in those situations. And it makes me feel like I’m alone out there. The lone bicyclist. 

But I know we are many. And maybe that’s how I proceed. Thinking of the other un-anxious road users out there. Breathe in. Breathe out. Let it go. Lean back, find that breeze. Be cool, be cool, be cool… 

head badge

Almost time for some maintenance...

Buy New Shoes to Run Faster

It seems every time I get a pair of new running shoes I go out for a really fast run to try them out. Nice high cadence, powerful footfall, really getting a feel for the new shoes. There’s an excitement, and a hopefulness that these new shoes will finally be the pair that takes me to a new higher level in running. Plus there’s just something sexy about anything new. That must be a part of what drives our shopping culture. 

This worked for me again yesterday. The form and effort all came together to take off a minute per mile from my normal run time. And the amazing thing… yes, I bought new shoes, but I had only ordered them online… they won’t be here for another few days! The power of our minds… 

Thomson

I was shocked to discover a crack in my seat post clamp today. I thought Thomson products were more or less indestructible. Or at least of some of the highest quality parts available. But I guess everything can fail. Strangely, too, it doesn’t seem like a part that would have much stress put upon it through normal riding conditions. I rode home hoping that the seat clamp would hold until I got there (it did). I removed it. It didn’t seem to be overtightened. It seems to be the right size. So strange. Thomson offers a three year warranty on seat post clamps. I don’t remember exactly when I got it but I think it was a little longer than that. So I’m back to the original quick release clamp on Mindful Mule. I got the Thomson clamp after my seat and seat post were stolen a few years ago while using the quick release clamp. I generally don’t park my bike in compromised settings anymore so maybe I’ll just stick with the old clamp. Too bad—I thought the Thomson looked sharp. 

Hooray for Oury

I bought these grips a few years ago. It was one of those situations where I needed a few extra bucks to reach my Free Shipping threshold. I’d always had a bit of a crush on Oury grips. They seemed like the cool kid grips of MTBers. As I recall these were also on sale. Probably because no one wants boring brown grips on their bike. It’s all about flash. Right? But what color would a mule choose? Aha! Add to cart. They’ve sat in the shed ever since. I liked my old grips and they weren’t quite falling apart yet. They were my second pair of Ergon grips. Now, finally they’re ripping apart and getting pretty gross. And I felt like I needed a fresh new feeling in my life. As directed on the package label I used rubbing alcohol to slide them on. That worked really well. I think they look pretty sharp…

Strava (almost) killed my blog

It used to be that I would go out on a run or ride and I’d think about things. I’d distract myself from the fatigue, the pain, the monotony, the cars!, as well simmering in the joys, the uplift, the enlightenments… A title would come to mind as a marker to recall and retell these thoughts through the blog… But then I became an addict—addicted to Strava… which soon led me on to fitbit, etc. Soon my thoughts were converted into GPS files and segment times and numbers and graphs and steps and data, data, data… What was left of my thoughts, those titles, were whisked quickly away from the blog and posted to Strava where I might gain a few Kudos from followers. The Kudos being the new form of acknowledgment of existence and worth. It’s a strong addiction, this cyber side world to fitness and activity. And, honestly, not one I’m willing to give up. However, I do also recognize that there is a lot of value here in the blogspot - and a community of support and inspiration that has given me so much more than KOMs or PRs ever could. So I am still here… riding, running, dreaming…