summertime

Here we are, summertime finally rolled around and the routine looks beautiful (so far). Of course, someone forgot to inform Mother Nature that it's time for sun and fun, not deluge and darkness... this is the wettest May in over fifty years. It reminds me a lot of Seattle, with some vicious rain storms each morning and humid, muggy temps in the evening.

My family came up to visit this past weekend, initially intending to watch me race the local Eagle Hills race course. John and I had different plans, however, and last Monday I began my "six-weeks-from-nationals-time-to-get-tough" routine. The routine included logging 31 hours on the bike in seven days, but did not include the two-hour slug-fest at Eagle Hills.

I felt bad, in some ways, for not racing; as I knew Bob had planned months in advance to catch me in action and cheer me on. However, they (my mom and Bob and perhaps some other family members) plan to attend the prized Elite National Championships next month in Park City, so I believe they appreciate my training objectives. So yes, 31 hours last week, a necessary and sufficient condition for me to achieve the professional physique and mindset required to seal that podium girl's kiss come mid-June. The Park City course is over 130-miles in length, so now is the time to lay down some serious mileage in anticipation.

This weekend I head south for the aforementioned Tour de Utah , to begin shaping that ingot of mileage into well-honed fitness. Two days after returning from Utah I head to Hood River Oregon for another event... I'll come out of that pretty cooked but a few rest days away from some GOOD legs. Not racing this past weekend allowed much quality time with my mother, Bob, and Madison (Bob's daughter); something normally inhibited by race "curfews" and limitations. I got my annual dosage of the mall and surrounding establishments, and was treated to the finest of Boise's dining options.

The routine is good, life is good. I'm sitting at my 'work desk', rendered incapable of work this morning due to a server failure. Otherwise the new job is great and it's so rewarding to use my engineering degree to earn money. The pay is nice and the schedule flexible. Lauren's new job is going pretty well, too, though she is really struggling to see the positive points in her new environment. She experienced the typical first week at a job: all filler an no killer, a lot of protocol and no opportunity to actually start working. We are hoping this week provides more challenge and reward.

Not too much else, just the routine. Ride, work, sleep, ride, Lauren, sleep, repeat. Perfect. The weather is nice this morning... the College of Engineering dean is coming in for a photo shoot here in our lab in about ten minutes, but after that I might slip out and embrace the sunshine. I suggest you do the same.

Bedlam

The worst part about being sick, I believe, is watching your environment crumble down around you: lacking the effort to effectively pick up after yourself, yet continuing to consume and create byproducts of your diseased state.

There's my bag, still fermenting with sweat and rain-drenched clothing from three days of racing; and there's my shoes, dishes, bike parts strewn all over, inanimately stalled in confusion as to why I've yet to unpack and refresh my situation.

The cold hit me hard shortly after completing the final stage on Sunday. Yet again, I was out the back of the peloton once the going got tough, but decided to diesel onward for another 2.5 hours to finish. Tough guy turned to sick guy, driven home by the soggy final seven miles pedalled in the rain. At the finish line I expected to see my bag full of dry, warm clothes, but to my dismay had to wait another hour for it to arrive in my friend's car. My immune system, which in retrospect had likely battled with a virus for the past few days, finally seceded and flayed itself open in surrender. I got sick, way sick, and although the symptoms are changing the overall status is not.

And yet it's consoling, having something tangible to blame my terrible legs on. Yes, I believe the weekend's misfortune is mostly due to last week's stress load, but I needed something physical and tangible to clutch on to. Who knows, the point is that now I'm sick and I'm getting the rest I need. Deserve?

One take-home final left, then the summer truly begins. I found out I got that job through the university (http://coen.boisestate.edu/research/RPlab.asp) so by next week I'll be in a new, slower yet more satisfying, routine. I'll be nerding out at a computer, designing things using SolidWorks and actually earning money for my engineering brain. Schweet. Twenty to thirty hours of work per week, twenty of riding, and the rest for relaxing and enjoying relationships, weather, etc.

OK, off to nap, or eat soup, or... what else when you're sick? I'm sure I'll end up back at this screen, voicing cough-syrup induced delirium for my expansive audience of bloggees. Aren't you lucky?

Columbia, Plat-OH

On the road. On my ass, sitting in a crowded gymnasium and nerding out being the only leg-shaver staring at a computer screen. Today was hell, probably the worst day of my life in the race world.

I do not know what went wrong. How much was physical, ie poor rest and poor nutrition? How much was mental? I tell you what, I have a lot to blame it on. Let’s blame it on school, let’s blame it on mowing lawns the day before my race. Let’s blame it on inadequate sleep and jerky professors and flakey team mates. How about this, from my sister last night before I left:

“So Dad has a cell phone. He told me ‘hey I am really trying to make some changes and be more reachable. I’d really like Calvin to know my number. I won’t call him but if you could give it to him just in case he wants to call, well, please give it to him’. So yeah, J, Dad wanted me to give it to you. Do you want to write this down?�

Silly thoughts swarm one’s synapses while peddling solo into a 25mph head wind, FORTY minutes behind the leading pack and at least Twenty-Five minutes behind the laughing pack.

Just typed up some independent research garbage. It will be the last report to turn in this semester, due on Tuesday. Then… then, then what? Bikes? I rode so shitty today and blew so hard that I fear putting all my eggs, hell, even one egg in that basket.

Wah. Must go walk. More later, you can count on it.

24 HOURS LATER

We are in Fossil now. Put in a decent TT this morning and was holding my own in the road race. Suddenly… “Lady Fortuna, Inconstant Goddess�, my freaking seat post busted midway down, and I shot out the back of the peloton like a mach 3 dookie. I managed to ride about seven miles, including a three mile descent, whilst standing, before finally flagging down the Cat 3 mechanical support car to explain my problem.

We threw on a woman’s saddle and post and I started dieseling in attempt to reclaim some ground. News flash: my saddle was set about three inches too low, and within two miles of pedaling my legs were pulling the strangest of muscle groups in to assist with pedaling. I stopped at the first feed zone, raised my saddle, and then resumed my independent journey.

So yeah, day number two of two plus hours solo. Though I must admit I felt considerably better this go around. I’ve procured another post to ride on tomorrow. Perhaps I can finish with a pack? What the hell is going on?

Sima and Shane offered me shelter this evening, some I’m sitting in the comfort of their rented motor home instead of battling the stench and news of three hundred other cyclists in the gymnasium.

Must go. More later.

SMP: standard meltdown procedure

Finally got a minute to scribble some words...

Although I have been through this numerous times before, nine times to be exact, it is still hard to effectively step up to the challenges of finals week.

But it's coming along. I just delivered a (decent) oral presentation in my Biomechanics class over "Full Squats versus Partial Squats: Electromyographic muscle analysis versus knee joint stress." Hoopty doopty, sounds more techy than it is (was, I'm done!). Email me if you'd like to see the powerpoint presentation... any takers?

The accompanying report (15 pages in length) is done, too, though not due till next Wednesday. No worries remain... except the dozen items left on my "to do" list before I head to a race at 5:00am tomorrow morning. It's raining outside, which actually wipes a few things off my list and alleviates some stress.

Greg left for Singapore yesterday to find us a wife. Er, wait, he went over to do some programming for his employer, Power Engineers. Sir Calvin stepped up and offered (really?) to take care of his landscaping/mowing business for a couple weeks. Well, it is crunch time and the thought of heading out to mow for four hours this evening just might melt me. Hooka Hooka Hooka (the sounds of my rain chant... keep it coming).

Headed to my final advanced Dynamics class in 23 minutes. The final exam is a take-home, which I've actually learned to fear. You see, the prof is savvy enough to realize our time and ability limitations during in-class exams; consequently they are much, much easier than those we get to pack home and work on. I will be taking my exam to central Oregon with me over the weekend... can't wait to attempt Lagrange Analysis of double gimble gyroscopes after four hours of 95% heart rate exertion.

I realize that this is my life, the path i have chosen and the path that I love. but gosh I need to streamline my priorities a bit. I often end up overbooking myself because I refuse to take a hit anywhere. What the heck am I typing this for, all of you (readers) know that.

Kudos of the day go out to my friends, Cody and Mary Hall. Amongst all of this week's academic mayhem was thrown the challenge of finding a ride over to Columbia Plateau (the race: www.columbiaplateau.org). None of my team mates are going and the other cyclists from Boise are being clicky, snobbish turdsters; I had a ride lined up with a married couple, then another, before they both made it obvious I was infringing on their precious love bubble. On the eve of packing Greg's GMC Suburban and pouring my bank account into the gas tank, Cody and Mary Hall (you guys freaking rock) offered to let me use their commuter car... a well-maintained and dependable Subaru hatchback. I owe you so, so much, you've saved me a considerable amount of stress.

Bah bah bah (motorcycle sounds, not hum-bug disgust), I'm looking to tear some legs off this weekend. Hopefully others' legs, not just my own.

Off to Dynamics. Wish me luck.

Captain Clavin, Cavlin, C-anvil, SweetCheeks.