Monday, July 27, 2009

Kids Say the Strangest Things



This morning I was in the kitchen and took a brief moment to gaze through the screen door and into the backyard. As I was doing so, a plastic peanut butter jar fell from the huddling of trees to the left. If I had not known any better I would say it had been flung from the sky, but upon closer inspection I could see the litterer perched high above in the branches. Within seconds of his fumble, the squirrel was down with his head in the jar, desperately trying to salvage any remnants of spreadable goodness.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Breaking Bread

With...


Question: Am I, along with everyone else, allergic to gluten?

Independent Variable: Gluten measured in any way shape or form.

Dependent Variable: The reaction of my body, in particular the functioning of its intestinal tract.

Now I am no scientist, and perhaps I mixed up my labeling of dependent and independent variables, but after two solid weeks of self-testing, evidential conclusions have thus far yielded a big, fat, YES.



Before discovering this allergy, though, I took some snapshots of the whole wheat and flax seed pitas I had started to make on a weekly basis for consumption. I also took some glam shots of my latest loaf of gluten-free bread. Compare and contrast if you must, but the latter is surprisingly delicious and nutritious, which is a plus for the dependent variable of this solitary case study.

And without.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Ketchup

Today's NJSC/AMBC race at Kittatinny delivered itself in several assorted packages. With the bad came the good, and with the good came something better. In package numero uno we had something good, and that thing was strength: mental, physical, you name it and either way I felt pretty darn good. In package number two there was something not so good (ok, it was bad), and that thing was a flat tire. Package tres, whose contents can and will be more appreciated over time and through reflection, encased the specific events which occurred as a result of opening package number two (although I still would have rather not had to untie that twine, obviously). Package three was the bearer of a bigger picture--something better.

After two laps my tire began to froth Stan's from the mouth, and so a 29er tube was squished between my 26er rim and tire (don't ask) and I was on my way to play catchup for the last two laps. Prior to this point I had been zipping along in a solid second place, but alas the nature of life cares not for comfort and so I found myself in a challenging game of carrot on a stick. Three cat one women had passed as I was fumbling with my back wheel. The game?--Oh, it was on.

Now it was my aim to take back what was rightfully mine. Who would have thought you could "take back time," but the world of bike racing is peculiar like that. In the end result of this scenario, time had been lost and found, my shoulder was sore from exceeding the so-called limits of my tires, and two places were eventually reclaimed. Although I had wanted to regain just a small pocketful more of time, I did receive the satisfaction of being introduced to some of the contents inside package number three: Joe Manga (sorry if I biffed up your name, we were in race concentration when you said it).

In full predator mode and on a hunt for the elusive second place (nice hustle, Bischoff), the sound of my own respiration paused just long enough to hear "By the way, I'm a fan," spoken from the male racer I had just passed. I thought out loud, "Of... what?" Apparently this pleasant fellow was a fan of my blog. Yeah, the thing you are reading at this very moment, he seems to dig it. His name was Joe and he briefly related to me how last year, when he was laid up in a sling, that it was Dirt Rag and my blogging chronicles that kept him going. I think he also mentioned how he got his daughter into riding (for the record she is into writing) as a result, although I could be mistaken, as I was focused on pumping away for my prey. WOW. If you are reading this right now, Joe, THANK YOU. I write this stuff, and always have written it, first and foremost for me. For my own recollection. When I was informed that I had not only reached, but also perhaps helped to keep another spirit afloat, I felt honored. I was still bummed about the flat tire, but in retrospect Joe's words made me appreciate everything that had gone right instead of focusing on the one thing that had gone wrong.

Predator.


The contents of package number three were turning out to be alright, as I also was given the opportunity to support my teammate, Marianne. I knew she had a fairly decent sized gap on Serruto, and so upon reaching her I reinforced the fact that if she held her steady pace, she could pull in for her first H2H win in the cat one 40+, which she did. She is a talented individual and a strong rider. Props to Marianne for her hard work. Woot. Woot. After pulling away to continue my hunt I hoped that my words had at least held some sort of boost for my teammate, just as Joe's did for me. Sometimes it's a few small words that keep us going.

After all is said and done, opening each of the packages life throws at us and then adapting to or working with the contents inside seems to always be the better choice. Today I got to play predator instead of prey; I learned some things about myself and some things about others; I exchanged smiles, along with a few homemade cookies, cried a little (not really, ok maybe a few tears) and had a damn good time riding my bike.

Prey.

(Thanks also to Bruce for his positive attitude and much needed assistance. Thanks to GTLuke for the photos as well.)

Friday, July 10, 2009

One Geared LM


F-A-S-T=this past Sunday's race at LM.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Rain.

It's been raining. A lot. Most races, save for the last two or three, have felt like early season, extended duration cyclocross battles. Nice.