The Good Stuff

Check THIS out.  She's been working on it for about a week now, and has it down!  She's FREE!

In the Drops

While I sometimes claim to be the most amazing cyclocommuter in Spokane...it's really not true.  There are many, many bicycle commuters here, and I probably fit in the lower realm with my short commute and relatively recent start.  In terms of experience on the bike, I'm also a fledgeling.  I ride a full-on road bike most of the time.  It's fast and smooth, and on it I feel fast and smooth.  Once in a while I actually ride it fast and smooth.  The times I feel fastest are when I either A: cheat and draft off of someone/something fast, or B:  shift up to a respectable gear, get down in the drops, and really push it.

Today I chose option B.  I was cruising between 25 and 28 mph on the home stretch of my commute.  I had put my hands down on the lower part of the bars (the drops) and was just thinking "fast".  I was not pushing my full power, but I was at about 95 percent and sustaining a good burn.  Then things went wrong.
I do make it a habit to watch cars and what they are doing.  Along the home stretch of my commute there is a particular intersection that I pay close attention to because cars are often turning onto the side-street.  As I approached this intersection, a red, mid-sized SUV passed me on the left (this is a common occurence, as I ride on the side of a very wide lane).  Fast approaching the intersection, the SUV then began to slow.  Immediately that put me in caution mode, although the SUV did not have any turn signals flashing.  As I suspected, the SUV braked harder and it became evident that it was going to make a right-hand turn and cut me off!  I slid my hands forward and grabbed my brakes hard.  I could feel my rear wheel float off the ground and my front wheel shimmy as I began to skid toward the SUV that now fully blocked my path.  Someone behind us began honking their horn over and over.  I veered right to put myself out of harm's way as I saw that my front wheel was on collision course with the rear wheel of that monstrous vehicle.  I laid the bike down and slid to an abrupt stop. 
I could not tell if I had actually hit them, but I immediately knew I was not seriously injured.  I stood up and pulled my bike out of the road.  First things first, I checked the bike for damage.  The wheels were true and the chain, though stuck, freed up easily.  As I began checking myself for injuries The woman who had been honking was now stopped and coming over to me. 
She said incredulously, "They didn't even stop!  They are driving away!"  Neither of us had seen a license plate number.  "Do you want to call the police?" she asked.
I looked at the minor scrapes on my hand, looked up to see that red SUV get smaller in the distance and then shook my head, "No.  There's really no point, is there?  I'm not hurt, and my bike is fine."  At this point about 6 other people sitting in their cars asked if I was alright and I nodded yes as I walked my bike across the street and mounted up for the last two blocks home.
After changing and eating dinner I went out to straighten the bars on my bike.  That's when I saw this:

And began crying.  I yelled "NOOOOOOO!" and walked away.  My mountain bike was a hard loss in January, but this...is hard to swallow.  I could conceivably still ride it, but I'd rather spare myself the worry.  This was my first and finest road bike.  A one-of-a-kind frame built by hand out of fine steel.  Not a single other bike in the world has this paint scheme.  And now it will be taken out of comission.  I'll get another, but this was my first.

I thought it would also be fun to share this:

It's my speed profile for today's doomed ride.  Right at about 11:20 minutes where my speed was maxed out at close to 28mph, you can see the speed plummet when I braked emergency-style.  I hope to never plot a graph like that again.

My personal damage consists of a few small scrapes on my right hand (I was not wearing gloves), a tennis-ball sized road rash on my right hip, and a rasberry on my left shin from impacting something.  Pretty lucky, I'd say. 

Now it's my morale that is "In the Drops" as I think about replacing that frame.

New Territory

Yesterday Jamie entered new territory for our family.  Here's a photo BEFORE the journey:

And here's a photo AFTER the journey.

At a playground near our home there is a bridge made of bars that loop down below side rails (kinda like inverted monkey bars) that Jamie was really enjoying.  Monday she learned how to cross that bridge and went back and forth many times.  Each time Sarah and I cringed and hoped she would not miss a step.  The bridge is about 3 feet above the ground--wich is covered in bark. 

Yesterday though, she made several passes and then (in the moment that Sarah and I were not looking) she fell through.  I looked over in time to see her land on her right side...CAWHOOMP!  She favored her arm, and I thought she had jammed her wrist or elbow.  After the initial tears, she cried more at the mention of taking her home.  We cuddled her for a while until she felt OK and then she tried climbing one of the ladders back onto the playground.  As she did, each pull and push with her right arm had her whimpering and complaining.  All the way home in the bike trailer she cried--particularly over bumps.

At home, Tylenol and an ice pack helped Jamie calm down and she took a good nap, but when she woke up she immediately complained as much as before.  Sarah took her to the Urgent Care place.  I love how "Urgent" translates into "slightly less waiting than 'Emergency' care".  About 3 hours later Jamie arrived home with a splint on her arm.  It was broken just above the elbow.  She gets a solid cast early next week.  I'm betting she chooses purple.

After getting ready for bed, Jamie came in with a smile on her face and said, "Guess what, mom?"

"What?", Sarah played along.

"I bwoke my awwm!"  At which point I laughed hard and Sarah gave her a big hug.

Truthfully, I always thought Caitin would be the first in our family to break a bone.  She tries all kinds of crazy acrobatics, thinks up new challenges for herself, and always does what friends or cousins can do.  She is also very coordinated...and lucky!

Genuine Lonely

New experiences in our family are often, but subtle.  Last night we had one that was a bit more significant. 

The girls had gone to bed later than the late time we generally account for.  About 20 minutes later however, Caitin opened the door and after enduring some barking from Mom and Dad asked, "Mom, how come you and Dad stay up really really really really really really late?"
She seemed to want to talk, but Sarah sent her back to bed.  We were nearly ready to go to bed ourselves at this point, when Caitin began crying from her bed.  This was not the 'I don't want to go to bed and I'm mad about it!'-cry, but rather the 'I'm sad and hurt'-genuine-cry.  Sarah must have sensed the difference as she went in to talk to her.  "What's wrong, Caitin?" she consoled.
"I'm sad and lonely!" Caitin sobbed.
"But you don't have to be lonely, we're right here." Sarah stated.  Caitin continued to cry and Moan.  "We're right outside your door.  There's no reason to be lonely."  Sarah reaffirmed.
Stifeling her tears, Caitin blurted, "Can you get my bear so I won't be lonely?"
Sarah obliged.  I believe there was a hug associated with the final goodnight before Sarah left the room.  Her tears stopped, but the occasional sobs lingered for a few moments until she was calmed.  I couldn't help but go in and get one of those genuine lonely hugs too.

The significance of this experience was in that genuine cry as an expression of lonliness.  At what point do feelings become tied to external stimuli as opposed to simple child-like instinct?  Or are they always tied, and only occasionally seem so clearly affected one way or the other?

Possessive

Jamie is developing into her own person, and in so doing is becoming attached to the darndest things.  Take meal times for example:

As a waste-not, want-not family we try (albeit often unsuccessfully) not to throw much food away.  Nearing the end of a meal it has become semi-common practise for Mom or Dad to reach across the table to a child's plate and snatch a morsel that would otherwise not be eaten. 

Within the past couple of weeks we've had to be more sneaky about this, because Jamie now reacts unfavorably.  In fact, the first time she reacted so, it took us several minutes before we discovered why she was mad.  Through pouring tears and her timid accusations we finaly realized she felt victimized!  The real problem came when she demanded return of the stolen item!

Drafting

One of the great things about cycling is the opportunity to draft.  A major contributor to resistance on the bike is air drag, so when that resistance is eliminated it's possible to go faster with much less effort.  I heard a recent report that in the professional peloton, effort can be reduced as much as 2/3 by simply tucking in behind another cyclist going the same speed.  66%!  That translates to a lot of energy conservation!  Now consider tucking in behind a LARGE wind barrier...like an SUV...or a dumptruck.

Occasionally on my commute home I'll catch a draft on the home stretch.  When I fall in line a few cars back at a red traffic light I can generally accelerate with the traffic (given the proper draft vehicle), and before I know it I'm coasting at about 25-30 mph.  I say coasting because once I get up to speed the only manipulation I have to do on the bike is tap the brakes once in a while to avoid colliding with the van/jeep/SUV I'm trailing. 

By the way, if you're not an amazingly talented cyclo-communter, such as myself, don't try this!  When I'm drafting off a vehicle at 30 mph my concentration levels are on high alert.  I am watching three things VERY closely:  First and foremost I'm watching the vehicle in front of the vehicle I'm trailing.  I do not draft a vehicle I cannot see through (except that one time Ryan and I drafted a dumptruck - which was awesome!).  I'm watching for any speed variation in the leading vehicle.  Secondly, I'm watching peripherally for brake lights of the vehicle providing the draft.  I'm generally about 5 feet from his bumper, which I believe might violate the car-length-rule...never done the math.  Thirdly, I'm watching for any sudden moves from the profile of the driver of the draft vehicle (answering a cell phone? I'm outa here!).  While I like going fast, I do not particularly want an asphalt-induced facial.

Earlier this week I found myself at a light in line behind a co-worker driving an Expedition.  That, by the way, is an excellent vehicle to draft.  I followed him for about 3/4 mile at 25 mph.  At this point turning vehicles ahead were causing the line to slow, so I pulled out to the right and passed my friend waving and smiling.  I moved ahead about 4 cars in line before I was slowed by a right-turning bus.  I could not match acceleration behind a little car (whose draft was too short to envelope me) and before I knew it my co-worker was passing me again; pointing and laughing.  So goes the drafting game!

Monkeys

In case you didn't know, we keep a monkey in our house.  This little monkey is getting stronger and more brave all the time, and recently conquered one of her fears!  When visiting with cousins a few weeks back, Caitin was envious of their abilities to traverse the monkey bars.  She was not quite strong enough to carry her own weight from one bar to the next.  She has been working on it though, and recently finally did it!

Oh yeah, and Jamie is a monkey too...her sister's shadow.  In fact I bet she would choose to be just that if it was offered to her!

Easter Day

Easter was full of good things for us.  First there was the baskets with treats and trinkets.  Then there was Conference.  Kinda neat that Conference was on such an important day.  When the weather warmed up a little we were joined by some friends for an easter egg hunt and a gluttonous meal.  I took advantage of the holiday and cooked a pot of dutch oven ribs.  I love those things.  I more than made up for the calories burned in my run the previous day.  All-in-all it was a fine Easter Sunday!

1/2-Way

A while ago I talked about attempting a marathon.  Then I promptly pulled out of the training process...mostly.  You see, I privately clung to the thought that maybe, just maybe I'd still be able to do it. 

I visited doctors, physical therapists, physician assistants, and chiropractors, and was diligent about doing what they assigned me.  Particularly I began a stretching routine and several excercises to strengthen my hips.  I suffered through many deep-tissue massages to relieve a fusion point in my IT Band, and all the while I kept running.  I ran as much as I could without aggrevating the pain.  I cut back from 7-mile distances to 1-mile.  I ran several 1-mile lengths and eventually stepped all the way up to 1 1/2 miles.  2 miles came along and then 3. 

Making progress got my hopes up, but I was pushing the limits of my pain.  That fusion point on the outside of my quad gave me pain whenever I reached a new limit, but as long as the pain did not persist beyond the day of the run I kept going. 

Yesterday as I visited my physical therapist he was satisfied with my progress.  I had run 6 miles a couple of weeks ago, and he was impressed.  He went on about how too many runners are not willing to give up more than a couple of weeks of training to take care of an injury, and then they push things too fast when they get the all clear.  I sort of looked at the ceiling and whistled as he said that last part, because I had big plans for today.

Looking at my severely revamped training calendar, (which is a dangerous minimum for marathon training with only 6 weeks left) this weekend would be the do-or-die training run.  If I could make 10 miles safely, then I'd sign up for the marathon. 

My friend was running 16 miles today in a three-step process:  Two 6-mile runs and a 4-mile run.  (He likes to torture himself by returning home every few miles for food and water.)  I figured I'd go with him and turn back early to hit 10 miles...or keep going to 12 miles if I felt good.

As it turned out, the major leg pain never gave me a bother.  No pain at all.  My left knee began hurting at mile 7, but with many assessments along the way I figured I was not doing any damage.  Mile 9 came and went, and then 10 and I was still going.  I determined that if I was doing 12, I might as well do a 1/2-marathon!  Sure the knee was in pain, but it wasn't always terrible.  I pushed myself beyond what I had expected and have now completed my first 1/2-marathon.  Let the training...uh...commence.