The Flame

Ah training weekend. Good times. Lots of laughs. Grubby athletes. Cold showers. Missions accomplished.

I thought my flame for the bike was dying. Turns out, it was just a bit buried. For no other reason other than the fact that it was there, I decided to do the long course bike ride. I honestly wasn't convinced I had any business being out there; it's been awhile since I've stretched myself athletically.

I had contingency plans in my mind that I re-evaluated every 10 miles or so. There was wind on Jolon Rd, which is a narrow highway with no shoulder for bikes. I thought I'd bonk because I typically go into a state of paralysis when riding on roads with fast traffic, white trash in pickups and wind. Call me crazy but I don't like to take my hands off the handlebars and subsequently, don't consume calories or fluids. Jolon goes on for about 13 miles and was by far the hardest and loneliest stretch. Towards the end, I started talking to myself, but promptly stopped after swallowing a bug

The next challenge was the infamous Nasty Grade, which was blazing in the heat of the afternoon. It was nasty. But I got to the top and with wobbly legs, continued onwards with the end in site.

I felt such a great feeling of satisfaction after the ride. I had done something I wasn't sure I could do and I kept a positive attitude the entire time. I knew I had contingency plans, I could stop at any time, but I was really enjoying myself...that's what happens when I focus on things that make me enjoy the experience.

My favorite quote from this weekend was courtesy of my friend Chris who said, "this race is a whole lot more enjoyable when you stop trying to compete with it."

And that's the only way to do Wildflower because there are relentless obstacles...the weather, the course itself, mechanical failures, etc. So just get out there and enjoy the experience for whatever it is in that moment. And so I did. It was such an incredible beautiful ride. Fields and fields of wildflowers in all colors and varieties. Perfect biking weather. And a nice cold Guinness waiting for me at the end. Ok, 2.

Chance of Sun

Today was one of those days where I almost didn't go to the workout...too much going on in life and the idea of hibernating sounded extremely attractive. But I went. And it was fun. And on the ride home, I snapped this shot on the Golden Gate Bridge. My soul was filled with gratitude over living in such a wonderful place. A place where when the forecast calls for a chance of rain, what they're not saying is that there's also a chance of sun.

Le Poo

There are places where I expect to step in dog poo. When I'm walking down McAllister St. When I'm playing Frisbee in Golden Gate Park. When I'm looking for a place to sit and read in Alamo Square. The Marin town of Ross is not one of those places. The median income for Ross is $102,000; median home value is $1.7 million. With that, fool that I am, I expect a bit of civilized behavior.

But lo and behold, we ran through lovely Ross Commons this morning, ooh'ing and ah'ing over the beautiful mansions and socialites out walking their poodles with their lattes. After the run, I switched out my sneaks for my Uggs and went to join my team for a picnic on the lawn. Only seconds after I sat down and prepared to bite into my artistically crafted sandwich did I notice the brown-green-ish blotch on my suede boots. My mostly indoor slipper-boots which really, I'd be a lesser person without.

The whole idea of stepping in dog poo is that you're not prepared for it; you don't see it coming. But the act is so insipid, it in turn causes a warm flood of hostility to course through your veins. It inspires hatred towards humanity. And, Matthes would like to add, towards dogs as well. We humans sure do have the art of talking about how great we are down. We just hardly actually live up to it. And it seems the more polished something (eg a neighborhood) is on the outside, the people inside of it are just as careless and self-absorbed as, say, the ghetto.

So, I say to all of you Ross habitants and non-poop-scoopers at large: you disappoint me. I expected more from you. I spent thirty minutes of my life cleaning your dog's poop off my beloved Uggs. You ruined a perfectly good sandwich. And the chocolate cupcake, there was no way I could even touch anything that was brown and gooey.

Thanks for that.