Ok, ate too much at Christmas, felt sluggish and unmotivated for the training ride, but, the little tags with the names on it hanging on my handle bars moves me to action. I can goof off, I can lay around, I can avoid the pain the miles bring to my arthritic neck, my creaky knees, my underhydrated muscles. They can't.
I do the ride. It's cold, it's windy, I am a wimp. 34.97 miles, 2:38:04:08
Yesterday, I'm under the gun, time wise. Up at 5:30, read the news, hat up, head out.
3.24 miles in the Brits, 35:23:51
What's gonna kill me? I notice a Civic two lanes over from me slide to a halt 1/4 into the intersection on a red. Makes me wonder what the driver was up to. I ride next to him to the next stop.
Oh, breakfast on a plate. Probably didn't notice the yellow or the red on the last light for having to fork a hunk of sausage into his maw.
Bother.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Wind, Rain, Floods
Southern California just isn't a rain friendly place.
Up north, if you didn't want to ride in the rain, you didn't ride. Here, geography rules the day.
Only got 41 miles in. The gullies were flooded (interesting CALTRANS strategy, allow passage into the flooded area, but not out - or one way open, the other way blocked. Anyway, it cut down the ridable trail. And with the maniacs skidding all over the place on the real road, I played it safe.
41.21 3:15:06:90
What's going to kill me: Approaching an intersection riding next to a "Tokyo Burn" Full Race Huyndai, the light ahead goes yellow. I slow to a stop, the pocket racer next to me floors it, hits the intersection as the light turns red. A bike on the other side, anxious to avoid the traffic accelerates at the green.....
Coulda been ugly, but the biker was skilled, avoided the maniac - this time. Yellow means stop if you can, not speed up and kill someone coming from the other way.
Up north, if you didn't want to ride in the rain, you didn't ride. Here, geography rules the day.
Only got 41 miles in. The gullies were flooded (interesting CALTRANS strategy, allow passage into the flooded area, but not out - or one way open, the other way blocked. Anyway, it cut down the ridable trail. And with the maniacs skidding all over the place on the real road, I played it safe.
41.21 3:15:06:90
What's going to kill me: Approaching an intersection riding next to a "Tokyo Burn" Full Race Huyndai, the light ahead goes yellow. I slow to a stop, the pocket racer next to me floors it, hits the intersection as the light turns red. A bike on the other side, anxious to avoid the traffic accelerates at the green.....
Coulda been ugly, but the biker was skilled, avoided the maniac - this time. Yellow means stop if you can, not speed up and kill someone coming from the other way.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Things That Will Kill Me
Are your words so important that you must text while driving? Is there such urgency that it can't wait for more sedate times?
Only one little lady in a red VW Beetle bobbling just a bit in her lane because a cell porn convo was more important than whether I might be passing her.
Sheesh.
Hill climb on Thursday.
13.98 miles 1:15.02
Only one little lady in a red VW Beetle bobbling just a bit in her lane because a cell porn convo was more important than whether I might be passing her.
Sheesh.
Hill climb on Thursday.
13.98 miles 1:15.02
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Murders, Homeless People, & Near Death
The weather here has been wetter than people think it should be. It doesn't stop some of them from driving at the same breakneck speed they do when an accident some where up stream gives them clear sailing from a down stream on ramp.
Riding the Harley in such weather scares the hell out of the women in my life (my wife, daughters-in-law, co-workers, my boss - she ordered me not to ride the Harley! Ha!) but adds a bit of excitement to what is an otherwise mundane day. It's just the spray, the rain, the fog, the old eyes, makes it a real challenge to avoid the murderous assaults by the caged drivers. Lucky thing my rain suit is bright canary yellow...
One thing about the nasty weather is it stirs up the crows. While most time times there's a lookout crow and an occasional cohort in the area, when it's stormy the murders gather and turn the sky into black winged chaos as they look for a group home or something. It's a sight, one of God's little presents for us if we but look.
Last Wednesday the Lovely and Talented Miss Dorothy volunteered us to muster at the Anaheim National Guard Armory to feed the cold and hungry homeless. To call them derelicts might be unfair, but the social workers who minister to them say there are few sober ones among them. Many of the women had children, young and old enough to at least work in a burger joint. What was disturbing was how they all knew exactly what the routine was.....
The experience wasn't without, ah, reward. Both Miss Dorothy and I came down with what must have been food poisoning, and malady I wish on no one. I know what "deathly ill" means. Though we didn't partake of any food (they get food from the prison!) something there made us sick, from which I have yet to recover.
Today's ride, a muddy, windy 'sprint' up the hills.
13.97 miles 1:24:13:33
Riding the Harley in such weather scares the hell out of the women in my life (my wife, daughters-in-law, co-workers, my boss - she ordered me not to ride the Harley! Ha!) but adds a bit of excitement to what is an otherwise mundane day. It's just the spray, the rain, the fog, the old eyes, makes it a real challenge to avoid the murderous assaults by the caged drivers. Lucky thing my rain suit is bright canary yellow...
One thing about the nasty weather is it stirs up the crows. While most time times there's a lookout crow and an occasional cohort in the area, when it's stormy the murders gather and turn the sky into black winged chaos as they look for a group home or something. It's a sight, one of God's little presents for us if we but look.
Last Wednesday the Lovely and Talented Miss Dorothy volunteered us to muster at the Anaheim National Guard Armory to feed the cold and hungry homeless. To call them derelicts might be unfair, but the social workers who minister to them say there are few sober ones among them. Many of the women had children, young and old enough to at least work in a burger joint. What was disturbing was how they all knew exactly what the routine was.....
The experience wasn't without, ah, reward. Both Miss Dorothy and I came down with what must have been food poisoning, and malady I wish on no one. I know what "deathly ill" means. Though we didn't partake of any food (they get food from the prison!) something there made us sick, from which I have yet to recover.
Today's ride, a muddy, windy 'sprint' up the hills.
13.97 miles 1:24:13:33
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Wednesday Pain & Pleasure
Long, fast (ok, fast is relative) ride. Knees started hurting about 3o miles, not good.
But a red tailed hawk decided to escort me along the creek. Maybe he thought I was food... Such things remind me that the rocks and mountains will shout His name, we just need to listen.
50.24 miles 3:34;36.60
But a red tailed hawk decided to escort me along the creek. Maybe he thought I was food... Such things remind me that the rocks and mountains will shout His name, we just need to listen.
50.24 miles 3:34;36.60
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Sunday Winded And What's Gonna Kill Me
Sunday's are a tough day for training. I should go to mass, I should do at least 25 miles, I have to go to work, peeps need new rides.
Sunday last, I failed all, but the last. I laced up The Brits and sped off for a 'fast' run.
3.71 miles on the muddy trail 34:35.77
What's gonna kill me? I ride a Harley, everyday, mostly. To and from work for sure, rain or shine. Occasionally the gracious, talented, and lovely Miss Dorothy gives me leave to do a ride with some cop and firemen bros of mine, but it's the commute down I-5 in South Orange County that gets my blood running, clears out my sinuses, and tests the old sphincter for Material Condition Zebra.
Today, I'm in lane 3, pacing traffic at around 70 -75, my exit's coming up, I check my six, check my right side, flip on the turn signal, start to ease over and a flash of something in the mirror catches my eye (it's my Angel, I know.....), I hold up for just a moment and a Yaris goes flying by on my right. I check to make sure it's not racing some other maniac before I fall in behind it and follow it off the freeway.
We get to the stop sign at the bottom of the off ramp, and I can see the driver, some fluffly headed twit holding her latte with one hand, the straw with the other, behind the wheel of the Yaris.
Thank God she was able to steer with her knees....
One of these days...
...something like that'll kill me.
Sunday last, I failed all, but the last. I laced up The Brits and sped off for a 'fast' run.
3.71 miles on the muddy trail 34:35.77
What's gonna kill me? I ride a Harley, everyday, mostly. To and from work for sure, rain or shine. Occasionally the gracious, talented, and lovely Miss Dorothy gives me leave to do a ride with some cop and firemen bros of mine, but it's the commute down I-5 in South Orange County that gets my blood running, clears out my sinuses, and tests the old sphincter for Material Condition Zebra.
Today, I'm in lane 3, pacing traffic at around 70 -75, my exit's coming up, I check my six, check my right side, flip on the turn signal, start to ease over and a flash of something in the mirror catches my eye (it's my Angel, I know.....), I hold up for just a moment and a Yaris goes flying by on my right. I check to make sure it's not racing some other maniac before I fall in behind it and follow it off the freeway.
We get to the stop sign at the bottom of the off ramp, and I can see the driver, some fluffly headed twit holding her latte with one hand, the straw with the other, behind the wheel of the Yaris.
Thank God she was able to steer with her knees....
One of these days...
...something like that'll kill me.
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