Friday, August 29, 2008

Still loving CO, but now oh so tired

The Canopy Piloting Nationals are over at last. It's been some long and hot days by the pond (I've been judging) and by now I'm sunburnt, bug-bitten and ready for some rest! I really like it out here though and even suggested moving but Cute Boy won't hear of it. His allergies act up badly out there and then he always says "you haven't tried the winters here, they are so horrible, you wouldn't like them".
We'll see about that one, we are already planning some trial runs out here to try out this horrible winter and see what I think ;)

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Lovely Colorado

I used to think Colorado was full of happy Birkenstock clad hippies, but the more time I spend here the better I realize that they have their own very special brand of Hillbillies. Or crackers. Or whatever you want to call them.
"Them people" couldn't care less about nature, they don't know the way to the REI Flagship store (honestly!) and eat everything fried. In general, they would be right at home on the infield at the NASCAR race track in Daytona Beach.
So, I propose swapping. I will move to Colorado and to balance things out, a handful of them move to Florida. I will need a job too, preferrably one that comes with some REI perks. I don't have a pair of Birkenstocks, but hopefully my Crocs and FitFlops will get me in with the cool kids.

And now, after writing and pondering all this, I all of a sudden gained a better understanding of my friend Lara. She may be the only living specimen of the rare species known as a "deeply intellectual introspective and altrusic redneck"; who wants nothing more than peace on earth and fuel cells for everyone. She lived in and loved both Colorado AND Florida.

Miracles of modern travel: Part deux

Yesterdays travel plans didn't go according to plan. After spending long hours in terminal, long hours in airplane at gate, long hours riding around the airport (without ever attempting flight) I went home.
Between shit weather in Atlanta, then shit weather in Daytona and finally airplane malfunctions, we never got off the ground. But, less than 12 hrs later, I'm back shortly after 5 AM- not really bright eyed nor bushytailed - but ready to give it another go.

When I left the house I was rewarded for my early morning prowling by the most amazing starry sky, crescent moon and the mystic, earthy, early Florida morning fragrances. Beautiful enough for me to pause for a minute or two taking it all in, even if I was a tad late for the airport (about 3 minutes again).
It reminded me of how much I really do love the early morning and its quiet stillness, before the day rushes to a start. Sort of an invite from night-time Florida to lace up the running shoes or put on a swimsuit and get in a few miles/yards before the oppressive heat sets in.
It's a good thing I like mornings, because come next year I will be seeing a lot of early morning workouts preparing for Ironman!

Monday, August 25, 2008

Miracles of modern travel

At the airport again.  Arrived squeeling in on 2 tires because I was a little bit late (not McNenney-late though), but for me to be 3 minutes late for a flight is excruciating.
Ran to the check-in counter, Shiny Moo in tow, only to find out that my flight to Atlanta has suffered a massive existential crisis and ceased to exist.  I am
now on the 12:40 flight.  Which I find comic, seeing that I didn't even arrive at the airport until 2:30.
For the time being, we sit here and wait for Atlanta to open back up and then once I make it there it will be very interesting to see what happens to my connection to Denver.

Ohhh boarding.  Better hurry.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Need more zzzz's, need more miles

Sunday night already - this weekend whizzed by at illegal speeds.
It was the weekend of the "Welcome Home Hannah & Joe" party, hosted by super-organizer Sandy. Lara flew into town from Virginia so Cute Boy and I picked her up at the airport and then joined Sandy and Ian for some tasty sushi.
Saturday morning I was kicked out of bed well before crack of dawn to take Cute Boy to the airport and once I got home Lara insisted that we would go out for a run. I haven't exactly been on it with my training lately, but to be a good sport I agreed to do half an hour. Sort of in the spirit of "how hard can it be, I'll be fine". By mistake I got us going on the 4 mile loop, when a 2-3 mile one would have been a lot less miserable.
For the first time in a week the friggin sun shows up and proceeds to beat down on us, to the tune of 90+ degrees F. The humidity could not be measured by conventional methods and will only be described as indescribable. After 3 miles or so, we wordlessly agreed that it was best to stop the Babe-watch style "slo-mo running" and walk it in from there. Slowly.

That Ragnar Relay is going to kick my ass, and so will the Windemere Marathon. Why do I keep letting Lara talk me into signing up for running crap?
I curse my slack-ass-ness, pledge to  a) get a training schedule and   b) stick to it.   

Honest. Promise.
I will now go straight to bed to allow my withering hams and quads to recover.
Tomorrow is travel - Colorado, here I come!

Friday, August 22, 2008

Selling a bike

Saw "selling my bike" ad on a another blog and just had to share.
Because this ad so very well could have been written by either my friend Aubrey or Isaiah, I can just hear it coming out of either one of their mouths.

In case that link expires (oh, the horror) I have pasted the contents below (in the manliest font I could find):

BIKE FOR SALE

What kind of bike? I don't know, I'm not a bike scientist. What I am though is a manly guy looking to sell his bike. This bike is made out of metal and kick ass spokes. The back reflector was taken off, but if you think that deters me from riding at night, you're way wrong. I practiced ninja training in Japan's mount Fuji for 5 years and the first rule they teach about ninja biking is that back reflectors let the enemy know where you are. Not having a rear reflector is like saying "FUCK YOU CAR, JUST TRY AND FIND ME".

The bike says Giant on the side because it's referring to my junk, but rest assured even if you have tiny junk that Giant advertisement is going to remain right where it is. I bought this bike for 300 dollars from a retired mercenary that fought in both World War 1 and World War 2 and had his right arm bitten off by a shark in the Phillipines while stationed there as a shark handler. When he sold it to me I had to arm wrestle him for the honor to buy it. I broke his arm in 7 places when I did. He was so impressed with me he offered me to be his son but I thought that was sissy shit so I said no way.

The bike has some rusted screws, but that just shows how much of a bad ass you are. Everyone knows rusted screws on a bike means that you probably drove it underwater and that's bad ass in itself. Those screws can be replaced with shiny new ones, but if you're going to go to that trouble why not just punch yourself in the balls since you're probably a dickless lizard who doesn't like to look intimidating.

The bike is for men because the seat is flat or some shit and not shaped like a dildo. If you like flat seated bikes you're going to love this thing because it doesn't try to penetrate your ass or anything.
I've topped out at 75 miles per hour on this uphill but if you're just a regular man you'll probably top it out at 10 miles per hour. This thing is listed as a street bike which is man-code for bike tank. The bike has 7 speeds in total:

Gear 1 - Sissy Gear
Gear 2 - Less Sissy Gear
Gear 3 - Least Sissy Gear
Gear 4 - Boy Gear
Gear 5 - Pre-teen Boy Gear
Gear 6 - Manly Gear
Gear 7 - Big Muscles Gear

I only like gear 6 and 7 to be honest.

Additionally, this tool of all immense men comes with a gigantic lock to keep it secure. The lock is the size of a bull's testicles and tells people you don't fuck around with locking up your bike tank. It tells would-be-thieves "Hey asshole, touch this bike and I'll appear from the bushes ready to club you with a two-by-four".

Bike is for 150 OBO (and don't give me no panzy prices)

Movin' in!

Well, the time has come to say good bye to my friends at TypePad. I have loved hosting my blog there for a number of years, but following in the footsteps of a good friend I am now moving to a free blog in an attempt to save my hard-earned dollars (so I can spend them on gas instead?!).

So, welcome to my humble abode on the web - and let the blogging begin!