Chilli Success

I completed my first triathlon today.  I did it with style.  I did it with panache.  I definitely did it the hard way.  You'd think that most people would try a sprint triathlon the first time.  I'm not talking about those professionals who run, say 10k and think, "Gee, a marathon might be fun," and go out and win some big marathon in their first attempt.  No, I'm talking about your regular person, above average in athletic terms, but an average person.  No, I chose a triathlon that included kayaking in place of the swimming.  I've never been in a kayak other than a debacle with a sea kayak in Belize.  Most of my small watercraft experiences end with my being responsible for it's tipping over or falling sideways over a waterfall, things like that.

Suffice to say, when my wife informed that she wouldn't think any less of me if I withdrew before I left the house, you might understand where she was coming from. 

I got to the event, got my kayak, paddle, and life jacket and took it over to the boat area.  After a 20 minute wait in line for the port-a-potties, the race got started.  I decided to let people get ahead of me so I didn't have to deal with the jostling to get to my bike.  Having gone on 3 (now 4) bike rides in the past two weeks and past 6 years, I didn't figure on needing to be out front so I could be in the lead.  Luckily, one person was still behind me because as I started to peddle, my new-fangled bottle cage slid down the frame and got in the way of pedals, the chainring, most anything that helped the bike move forward.  I got off and was about to attempt to rip it off when the last person offered help and actually had a set of allen keys.  Five minutes later, we were back in the race.  I hadn't even made it out of the parking lot before that first malfunction. Things were going well, I was making really good time, and then I hit the hill that is said to separate the men from the boys.  I guess I'm a toddler.  I didn't even make it to the steep part before I got off and walked.  Most people couldn't make it up, so I wasn't alone, but I was thirsty, not having any water because I left the bottle and cage in the grass by the starting area.  At the top of the hill, they had a drink station, and then there was a huge, long downhill as a reward for making it that hill.  Soon after that, it felt like I was coasting slower, pedaling was harder and I looked down to see my front tire was about half way flat.  I had five miles left and hope nothing would happen, but it definitely slowed me down.

Then I got in the kayak.  As a volunteer pushed me in, he asked if I was ready.  "Ready as I'll ever be,"  I replied and I tried my hand at kayaking for the first time.  It was really windy and at points there were whitecaps on the lake.  When the wind came from any directions except in front, it kept turning my boat and I had a really hard time moving forward rather than sideways.  Eventually I sort of got the hang of it and during the lulls in the gales, I got a pretty good rhythm going.  I can see why people like kayaking.  Working my way around the lake (about 2.2 miles) I thought we had a straight shot to the finish when I came around a bend and had about 15 more minutes of paddling with a really vicious wind.  But, I made it, didn't tip it, and stayed relatively dry.

Starting the run was an exercise in reversing rigor mortis.  My shuffle would have done a zombie proud, but I slowly loosened up so I was able to actually lift my feet of the ground.  I didn't go any faster, but I managed to avoid all of the tree roots and stay upright.  A few old men passed me, but I did manage to pass one person in the last mile.

Overall, it was a lot of fun.  I'm planning on doing it again.  I'd like to actually be in shape the next time and not lose 10 minutes to bike problems.  Accounting for the 10 minutes, I finished in about 2 hours 58 minutes.  I think I could take a half hour off of that time.  So there's my goal for next year:  2.5hours or less.

I need a nap.
Or a massage.
Probably won't get either.

Scratching That Itch (see previous post title)

I went for my first ride the other day and realized how long it's been since I last rode.   I hope the course is not as hilly as the roads near me.  20 miles may be longer than I remember, and my butt is not in cycling shape (and I'm not talking about fitness).  It felt good to be on a bike again, though.  There were little things that came back to me.  There's a particular sound to the gears when the rear derailleur is off the gear just a bit and it lets you know if you need to move it up or down a tiny bit.  I couldn't describe it to you, but without thinking about it, I knew how to adjust it.  Even though it's been over six years since my last ride, I kept reaching for the downtube shifters that were on my old bike.  These are mounted on the stem and I think I miss having them down there.  I got into the big gear today and the feeling of moving the big crankwheel just felt like power that I've missed.

However, there were a lot of things my body didn't remember.  The most significant was how to be comfortable on the seat.  Until I stopped 6 years ago, I had been on a bike so regularly, that I couldn't remember ever feeling uncomfortable in the saddle.  That changed the other day.  Even with bike shorts, I'm definitely out of practice, but it's still worth it.  Being out on a back road, rolling along, it all came back why I love to ride.  There will not be another seven year itch because I will never again go that long without riding.

As for the triathlon, I'm not sure what's going to happen.  It's 20 miles and I've got two weeks to get my butt into riding shape.  Hopefully I won't be wet from the kayak portion before, and hopefully I'll be able to run the 4.5 miles after.

Seven Year Itch

It was over six years ago that I last went for an actual bike ride.  An ensuing move to a gated community in the middle of the Appalachians in a geographical location called Deep Gap started the decline.  The only flat surface around there were the decks that surrounded each house and most of the roads in the area weren't paved - not the most conducive to a road bike.  Following that was the first move with a child which led to the realization that the truck was filled and there was no room to insert a bike without unpacking and repacking many items.  I donated that bike to a deserving student that both I and my wife had as a student at the university and was helping us load the truck.  Four years passed, another child joined the household, and still I didn't have a bike.

In my infinite wisdom, I figured that I could get a bike and be ready for a triathlon in one short month.  It's not a regular swim, bike, run triathlon.  No, that would be too easy.  I chose a paddle, bike, run triathlon.  Did I mention that the last time I was on a kayak (and the only time) I managed to tip it end over end?  I didn't just turn it over, but actually tipped it backwards so that the front end went up and over and dumped me off backwards.  In my defense, my wife and I were given no instruction other than to go ahead and take out a kayak that was sitting on the beach.  As we walked the kayak back to shore we found out that the kayaks were supposed to be drained before going out.  Ours wasn't.  That explained why the moment one of us leaned, the kayak would tip.  All of the water in the kayak would rush in that direction.  There was a lot of water and we provided a good half hour of entertainment for the spectators on the beach.  At least we were in Belize.

I finally got a bike last weekend.  After searching for used bikes in the area, I had some luck.  I was getting very discouraged.  Moving from Madison, WI, I though finding a used bike would be easy.  They have entire showroom floors filled with used bikes at a couple of locations there.  Not quite so easy here.  I found a wonderful little shop in Bloomsburg, Paul's Bicycle Shop.  Getting to the shop was the hard part.  I had to bring the 5-year-old with me who had been a good sport going to a community yardsale in the morning, but I wasn't sure if she had two trips in her for the day.  As we got to Bloomsburg, I realized with a growing sense of dread that it was the beginning of the Bloomsburg Fair.  Following the GPS directions, we were taken to a street about a block from the fair and everywhere you looked, there were signs in yards selling parking.  15 minutes later, I found a spot on the street about four blocks away, surrounded by $2 parking (it was about $5 right by the fairgrounds).  As we walked up the alleys towards the shop, all we could see were all of the rides.  Being 5-years-old, she was convinced we were going to the rides.  By the time we were at the shop, we were half a block from the rides.  Somehow, I got her to understand that we weren't going on the rides and she didn't throw a fit.

The moment I saw the shop, I figured I had picked the right place.  It was tiny.  It was crowded with bikes and supplies and barely had room for people.  It was a shop run by somebody who just likes bikes.  He had about 20 used bikes, three of which were road bikes.  There was an old Peugeot, a Fuji, and some yellow beast for which I didn't catch the brand.  The Peugeot and the Fuji were about my size.  I took the Fuji.  It is an old Fuji Supreme that I'm guessing comes from the early 80's.  It's just the kind of bike I was looking for and with, if I remember correctly from my few days as a bike mechanic, a 10mm wrench, I can fix most anything that I need.

The junk run

For about the 50th time in the past couple of years, I started running again after a not insignificant layoff (sorry, George Orwell, but I just didn't feel like saying insignificant).  It seems like the 2nd run after a too long break feels like I'm emptying my body of junk.  The first run feels fine.  I've got so much stored-up fuel that there's no problem, but that second one hurts.  Given a three mile run, the first mile just feels stiff.  The second is where the pain lives.  Every single extra slice of pizza and every bit of junk that I put in my body since I stopped running a few months ago feels the need to express its disappointment in my decision to resume running.  Maybe it's my body exacting a petty revenge for its mistreatment.  I don't know.  What I do know is that if I give in during the junk run and stop before the sludge works its way out through my pores, it's a much longer road back to fitness.  However, if I push through that second mile and keep going, I start feeling lighter.  I stop shuffling along and actually stride a bit.  I'm definitely tired, but there is a change.

I had that junk run today.  It was made worse by the various thoughts running through my head.  Most of them were focused on my possibly rash decision to enter the Chilli Challenge Adventure Triathlon.  I meant to do a triathlon earlier this summer, but my clear lack of running as well as my obvious lack of bike and abject failure in getting a bike, I didn't.  Now, I'm semi-committed to doing this triathlon that not only includes biking and running, but also KAYAKING!  My last (and possibly only) experience with a kayak was during my honeymoon in Belize.  There were some sea kayaks on the beach for us to use, so we thought it would be fun.  Nobody bothered to tell us and we had no idea that we needed to drain the kayak before heading out.  Full of water, the kayak gained a lot of momentum rotating around its various axes and we were in the water more often that in the kayak.  The entire experience was topped off by my actually tipping the kayak over not sideways, but end over end.  So I've got that going for me, which isn't so nice.  I haven't been on a bike for about 6 years and haven't owned one the past 4 after running out of room on the moving truck and donating it to a student that helped us load the truck.  As I struggled to finish my measly 3 miles today, I realized that the run is almost 5 miles after a 2.2 mile paddle and 20 mile bike ride.  This ought to be interesting.

The good outweighed the bad, but the bad is soooo annoying

Day one is over and done with.  I think it was a pretty successful day, especially considering we didn't even have doors on the building last week.  Most of the ceilings had ceiling panels, I didn't see any exposed wires, and I had a functioning door.  Perhaps the best part is that it was 90 degrees out today and the AC in my room was functioning and comfortable, even with a southern exposure window.  The walls reach the ceiling and I am not at the top of a stairwell anymore.  All of that stuff is good.

However, there is no power to the outlets in the front of the room, so I can't really run my computer.  Granted, it's not going to be that useful until they put the data drops in so we have internet access and my Eno board and projector are installed.  The exposed concrete floor is a lovely shade of grey (I like spelling that color with an 'e' rather than an 'a').  I also like the fine, powdery dust that coats everything, regardless of how often you wipe surfaces off.

Honestly, though, as annoying as all of those little things are, it was a good start to what I hope will be a great year.  Now I just need to figure out what I'm actually teaching tomorrow.  Can't play name games and logic puzzles for the next 179 days.

My daughter has successfully completed three days at kindergarten.  Day one there was no fear getting on the bus.  She has a favorite person to sit with on the bus.  I hope for his sake he enjoys the company, because subtlety does not work on her and it's close to an hour long bus ride in the morning.

Can't open the school cause it's got no doors

After a long summer of watching weekly photo updates of the renovations taking place in my school, I was informed that our rooms would be open for us starting today.  This is the actual quote from the email, "On Friday, August 20^th you can get into your classrooms to begin preparing for the 2010 – 2011 school year."  If you read that, you might think, as I did, that everything was ready to go.  I can work on setting up the room.  I can get stuff up on the walls.  I can organize my desk and storage areas.  In other words, I headed to school ready to get some work done considering that classes start in about a week - August 30.  As I enter the middle school's temporary office location in the high school, the assistant principal looks at me and says with a slight chuckle, "You might be able to do some work in your room, I think you have floors."  Long story short, my room is basically finished.  It's painted, the flooring is down, and storage is in place.  It's just missing minor things like my Eno board (IWB), whiteboard, or even the chalkboard I tried to save from being tossed out.  Some lights were on, but there are no light switches.  I have a lot of desks and such in my room, but I noticed that they were all labeled from other teachers' classrooms.  Suffice to say, I didn't get any work done.


But my classroom is in better shape than other parts.  I have flooring, other rooms just have concrete.  I have a door, the school has large pieces of wood in the entry way.  The doors are supposed to come on Friday, and they are supposed to open to students the following Monday.  I can't believe how many changes have happened to the structure of the school, and I'm excited to have walls that reach the ceiling, a door, and windows, but I can't say that I'm all that confident that the school will actually be able to open in time.  Once it's ready to go, I think that these changes are going to have far reaching benefits to the school, both academic and in the general atmosphere.  My main concern for now, however, is how I'm going to teach without any writing surfaces on my walls.  Should be interesting.

I thought butchers ground meat

Tomorrow is my daughter's 5th birthday, next week she starts kindergarten, and I asked her what she wanted to eat for her birthday.  She chose tortellini, which involves making the pasta fresh and hand folding each tortellino (4 semesters of Italian taught me that tortellini is the plural and saying tortellinis is wrong).  I use the same recipe my grandma used and passed along through my mom and probably originated at least with my great grandma from Bologna and it's always been my favorite food.  I've made it three times now.  The first time turned out decently, but I couldn't get ground veal at the grocery store, so I used their meatball mix which included beef, pork, and veal.  It wasn't quite tender enough.  Last time I bought a piece of veal and ground it up myself in the food processor.  This worked well, except the gristle didn't grind well and left chunks that I incompletely picked out of the mixture as I was folding.  (There was also the side issue of drying them in the oven so the cats wouldn't eat them and forgetting they were there when I heated up the oven for something else.  Baked pasta that has not been boiled yet is disgusting and no amount of sauce or cheese can save it.)  On Monday I went to get ingredients and they had ground veal, but not pork.  I asked the butcher if they had ground pork and she responded that they were out but a truck was coming in on Tuesday.  At this point, many responses flew through my head, all with the common idea that "you are a butcher," "you cut meat for a living," and "don't you have some sort of meat grinder back there?"  Then my thoughts turned to why they had to wait for a truck to bring in ground pork.  With all of that big equipment back there, you have to do more than use the big heated plastic wrap dispenser.  I eventually asked if they could grind some and was met with the reply of, "I guess, but you'll have to wait for it.  How much do you need."  The words themselves weren't so bad, but the total lack of initiative or desire for customer service was.  I asked for my half pound and saw that it was only $1.50/pound.  I don't think they gave me the best quality ground pork; we'll see.  Since I moved here, I've tried avoiding this grocery store because there always seems to be a general atmosphere of inconvenience exuding from the employees whenever they are asked for something.  I refuse to use the deli because they are outright hostile and nobody wants hostility mixed in with their cold cuts.  But this latest episode just confirms my idea that there is something wrong with that store.  Even though it was recently renovated, the only real improvement was the addition of buying beer in six-packs (this state has the weirdest liquor laws).  I'm sticking with Giant.