Tunbridge Ride
As promised, pictures of the ever-so-sexy Serotta with new fork.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Big Ride Today
After a well-deserved rest day yesterday, I headed out with a big crew this morning for a Lake Fairlee ride. I slept through my alarm and Paul was late, but we still kept good on our agreement to split off and do a honker of a ride. In other news, I'm realizing that I may have waited too long to start accruing parts to make the MTB geared. The UMass race is in less than two weeks. Still, racing the SS wouldn't be the end of the world, and I'm not eligible for nationals anyway.
Tunbridge Ride
As promised, pictures of the ever-so-sexy Serotta with new fork.
Tunbridge Ride
As promised, pictures of the ever-so-sexy Serotta with new fork.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Fall cometh
After a June filled with rain, and temperatures not breaking into the 90's until only weeks ago, yesterday was officially the most beautiful day of the summer. The sky was the deepest, richest pure blue I've seen yet. It was the perfect New England day. What does all of this mean? Why was it the most beautiful day of the summer? Easy...because fall has hit Hanover, NH. Whether or not it is here to stay, I cannot say. Still, all of the telltale signs are there.
I first suspected something a week ago when that fall smell was in the air. Since then, the light has started to tilt. Everything has begun to take on the beautiful contrast that we only find in the transition seasons. The humidity has disappeared, and my window fan has too. But this morning brought the surest sign. It wasn't just that it was cold. It wasn't just that I had to wear a fleece for the walk to work. It was the quiet. Obviously the total calm of a fresh snow hasn't yet come, but even dipping into the 40's brought with it a new serenity to my normally lively commute. I wasn't aware that construction workers were tied into the tao of the universe, but even the usual din of distant construction was gone. The slightest scamper of a chipmunk enjoyed the same contrast of sound as has recently appeared in the light.
Once I realized that fall is here, I had to ask myself: "how do I feel about that?" Though my first instinct is to say: "F*CK!", I have to admit that I'm finding a certain excitement, a certain familiarity, a certain comfort in the coming of seasons. BBQing in the dark last night was actually kind of exciting. So, what's different this year? Why does this year remind me of fall at Williams and last year did not?
Just as I'm finding some hidden excitement about returning to med school; just as I've found myself thinking that school might be a more comfortable and appropriate existence for me, I think that my mind might finally be ready to return to life as normal. After everything was blown apart, dissected, and thrown back together, maybe I've finally had enough time to throttle back on. It makes sense too that the fall would be more comfortable. Things didn't just come back together randomly, I find myself this year in a much more stable situation than last. With Karl and our fantastic place, I'm feeling, maybe for the first time ever, ready to nest in somewhere away from home. I'm sure that my opinion will change after a couple of months of brutal temps, but I hope that I can continue to find beauty in the subtlety of change.
In terms of health updates, my PA over at Dick's House and I have decided to get serious about this hypertension thing. I get high readings before I even get out of bed in the morning. I went over for bloodwork yesterday morning to rule out causes of secondary hypertension. No results yet for aldosterone, etc, but my cholesterol was "fabulous".
The theme this week for riding has been the extreme want, but total denial of recovery. After the hard, long ride on Sunday, I ran into Michael Rea on Monday. Of course I had to join him, but of course he was doing a very hard endurance ride. You saw my HR chart for the race on Tuesday. Karl and I showed for Mike Holmes' invitation on Wednesday. Of course Holmes showed up on his Cervelo TT rig and with Paul "Sally Pants" Salipante in tow. Ruddsburo turned into an all out battle. And to top it off, the beginner's 1st year med school ride last night turned into an all out team trial after karl had a sidewall blowout that required a replacement wheel from Holmes' house. I don't know that I've ever covered Rt5 north that quickly.
No new pics, so how about an old one? My first camping trip. Have you ever seen a kid more excited?
I first suspected something a week ago when that fall smell was in the air. Since then, the light has started to tilt. Everything has begun to take on the beautiful contrast that we only find in the transition seasons. The humidity has disappeared, and my window fan has too. But this morning brought the surest sign. It wasn't just that it was cold. It wasn't just that I had to wear a fleece for the walk to work. It was the quiet. Obviously the total calm of a fresh snow hasn't yet come, but even dipping into the 40's brought with it a new serenity to my normally lively commute. I wasn't aware that construction workers were tied into the tao of the universe, but even the usual din of distant construction was gone. The slightest scamper of a chipmunk enjoyed the same contrast of sound as has recently appeared in the light.
Once I realized that fall is here, I had to ask myself: "how do I feel about that?" Though my first instinct is to say: "F*CK!", I have to admit that I'm finding a certain excitement, a certain familiarity, a certain comfort in the coming of seasons. BBQing in the dark last night was actually kind of exciting. So, what's different this year? Why does this year remind me of fall at Williams and last year did not?
Just as I'm finding some hidden excitement about returning to med school; just as I've found myself thinking that school might be a more comfortable and appropriate existence for me, I think that my mind might finally be ready to return to life as normal. After everything was blown apart, dissected, and thrown back together, maybe I've finally had enough time to throttle back on. It makes sense too that the fall would be more comfortable. Things didn't just come back together randomly, I find myself this year in a much more stable situation than last. With Karl and our fantastic place, I'm feeling, maybe for the first time ever, ready to nest in somewhere away from home. I'm sure that my opinion will change after a couple of months of brutal temps, but I hope that I can continue to find beauty in the subtlety of change.
In terms of health updates, my PA over at Dick's House and I have decided to get serious about this hypertension thing. I get high readings before I even get out of bed in the morning. I went over for bloodwork yesterday morning to rule out causes of secondary hypertension. No results yet for aldosterone, etc, but my cholesterol was "fabulous".
The theme this week for riding has been the extreme want, but total denial of recovery. After the hard, long ride on Sunday, I ran into Michael Rea on Monday. Of course I had to join him, but of course he was doing a very hard endurance ride. You saw my HR chart for the race on Tuesday. Karl and I showed for Mike Holmes' invitation on Wednesday. Of course Holmes showed up on his Cervelo TT rig and with Paul "Sally Pants" Salipante in tow. Ruddsburo turned into an all out battle. And to top it off, the beginner's 1st year med school ride last night turned into an all out team trial after karl had a sidewall blowout that required a replacement wheel from Holmes' house. I don't know that I've ever covered Rt5 north that quickly.
No new pics, so how about an old one? My first camping trip. Have you ever seen a kid more excited?
Thursday, August 27, 2009
The final report
Got this from Dr. Seigne last night. Looks like my 6 mo surveillance went as we all hoped.
Ben
CT report All clear
AFP =3....normal
JohnS
Ben
CT report All clear
AFP =3....normal
JohnS
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Surveillance Update
Well, despite my marauding emotions and the poopy radiology staff, I made it through my surveillance in one piece. My arm is sore from the crappy IV job, and the contrast die never feels pleasant. The nurse at Dr. Seigne's office again confirmed my high blood pressure.
Still, Dr. Seigne saw nothing abnormal on the CT scan. The radiologist has yet to submit his formal report, but Dr. Seigne is probably smarter than him anyway so it doesn't matter. The beta-HCG was normal. My physical exam was normal as well. We'll have to wait a day or two to get the alpha-fetoprotein. Dr. Seigne mentioned that the risk of a relapse drops off dramatically after 6 months, though he will continue to follow me for two years. He also mentioned that the group of men at the highest risk for developing testicular cancer are those men who have already had it. Whatever environmental or genetic factor that caused it in one testicle is almost certainly there for the other one as well. Basically, about 2-4% of men develop a second malignancy, but Dr. Seigne has personally had patients to whom it has happened again. Bad thoughts...ugh. On the plus side, one of the first things that Dr. Seigne said was that I'm looking "very muscular." Those are some powerful words from someone as level-headed as a pool table and as excitable as a tree stump. And they are so much more meaningful coming from the sexiest man alive too.
In other news, my buddy Jonathan brought a new friend into the world recently. Jonathan and I met on my NOLS Baja sailing trip in 2006. And though we only spent a month together and haven't seen each other since, I think he would agree that we have a bond that goes deeper than our time together would indicate. Its as though the world fated us to meet and remain irrevocably connected. In any case, mazel tov to Jonathan. And welcome to the world, Finneas McCloud Beall. Don't let your dad hold you upside down too much.
And just for good measure to prove that Jonathan always looks that cracked out:
Still, Dr. Seigne saw nothing abnormal on the CT scan. The radiologist has yet to submit his formal report, but Dr. Seigne is probably smarter than him anyway so it doesn't matter. The beta-HCG was normal. My physical exam was normal as well. We'll have to wait a day or two to get the alpha-fetoprotein. Dr. Seigne mentioned that the risk of a relapse drops off dramatically after 6 months, though he will continue to follow me for two years. He also mentioned that the group of men at the highest risk for developing testicular cancer are those men who have already had it. Whatever environmental or genetic factor that caused it in one testicle is almost certainly there for the other one as well. Basically, about 2-4% of men develop a second malignancy, but Dr. Seigne has personally had patients to whom it has happened again. Bad thoughts...ugh. On the plus side, one of the first things that Dr. Seigne said was that I'm looking "very muscular." Those are some powerful words from someone as level-headed as a pool table and as excitable as a tree stump. And they are so much more meaningful coming from the sexiest man alive too.
In other news, my buddy Jonathan brought a new friend into the world recently. Jonathan and I met on my NOLS Baja sailing trip in 2006. And though we only spent a month together and haven't seen each other since, I think he would agree that we have a bond that goes deeper than our time together would indicate. Its as though the world fated us to meet and remain irrevocably connected. In any case, mazel tov to Jonathan. And welcome to the world, Finneas McCloud Beall. Don't let your dad hold you upside down too much.
And just for good measure to prove that Jonathan always looks that cracked out:
Monday, August 24, 2009
Post B-Day Update
I suspected something because Begem and Shahid were acting weird at FMIG. Shahid asked me "when are you going to bed?" What? Come on Shahid, I'm not stupid. As I pulled up to the apartment after the Family Med Interest Group, it was entirely dark. As I parked, though, I could see a strange orange glow coming from the living room. When I opened the door Shahid, Begem, and Kolene burst out and yelled "Surprise!". They had made me a beautiful pineapple-coconut cake. Pictures to come. What wonderful friends I have here. I couldn't help but think back to my birthday a year ago at that terrible house. Its hard for me to even imagine Leo helping out with my birthday. Thinking about everything that has happened to me over the past year, I can't believe that I've come out where I am now. I have a wonderful place with a wonderful support system. Thank you Begem, Kolene, and Shahid. You guys are the best!
I had a dermatologist follow-up on Fri afternoon. Severe thunderstorms cancelled the usual team recovery ride earlier. Still, the rain had settled to a gentle warm drizzle by 6 pm. After emailing the listserv, I had a taker. Elle and I headed out in the rain. I wore the white purple cow spandex just to keep things interesting in the wet. It ended up being a very nice ride up Beaver Meadow and down Tigertown just as the rain began to break. As we pulled up to Dirt Cowboy for the requisite post-ride iced chai, a rainbow appeared. What could have been a crappy, rainy Friday night ended up being quite awesome.
Saturday was consumed, in large part, by another blown coilpack on the GTI. This was the worst one yet. Begem had to come rescue me. The only place to have any coilpacks on a saturday was autozone. I couldn't believe it. So, after about 50 trips back and forth to the car, it was fixed. Thanks a lot VW engineer. I hope that your pacemaker fails. This is #3 for those of you keeping track. What a stupid design.
Once the coilpacks were fixed, I moved onto the next project: getting the new Easton fork installed on the Serotta. Pics to come, but needless to say, its breathtaking. While at the bike shop getting a shorter caliper nut, guess who I saw in Dirt Rag!?! Spencer! Kate's Spencer! He wrote a big article on bike patrolling. Check it out. Here he is below showing off his mad skills. Nice work Spencer. You're a baller.
Saturday night was the official b-day get together. It turned out to be a food overload. Menu:
-Ben: Chicken Fry/"Fry Goscht", Basmati rice
-Begem/Kolene: South Indian Eggplant
-Shahid: Aloo (Indian Potatoes)
-Karl: Fresh blueberry tart
-Liz/Emily: Big spinach salad, three different types of zucchini bread, homemade fresh blueberry ice cream, surprise lemon-strawberry cake.
Just FYI...we also had leftover coconut-pineapple cake too. I've never seen so much dessert. Begem and Kolene had to take off to study, but the rest of us enjoyed a rousing game of Balderdash...my favorite. Thank you so much to everyone who made it such a special night.
Sunday morning, I rode the 28 miles of Hell with one of my new classmates, Mike. He's a Dartmouth alum, both undergrad and the school of public health. I stuck it to him pretty good and continued on to ride another 35 or so miles. I was chased by, not one, but a *pack* of german shepherds. I was screaming and riding towards the one that was leading the charge. I knew that if I showed any weakness, I was dead. Literally, there were 15 dogs chasing me. And of course, it had to be on an uphill. I think that I finally convinced them that I was crazy enough to not be worth it.
Today's the big day. The 6 month surveillance check. The bloodwork. The CT scans. The exam. I'm surprised; maybe I'm just emotional lately, but it is having more of an effect on me than I expected. Karl and I talked for a while last night. I still can't believe everything that I've been through in the past year. I guess that I'm also starting to realize that I'm not over Teresa. I thought that I had moved on. I thought that I had separated. I wonder if revisiting the cancer and Dr. Seigne brings her back to prominence in my mind. She also had lunch with Begem a couple of weeks ago. The discussion about that was not easy.
And with everything that I've been through, the craziest part is that there are people on this earth whose entire lives are more screwed than we could ever imagine. In the scheme of things, I'm so blessed.
I had a dermatologist follow-up on Fri afternoon. Severe thunderstorms cancelled the usual team recovery ride earlier. Still, the rain had settled to a gentle warm drizzle by 6 pm. After emailing the listserv, I had a taker. Elle and I headed out in the rain. I wore the white purple cow spandex just to keep things interesting in the wet. It ended up being a very nice ride up Beaver Meadow and down Tigertown just as the rain began to break. As we pulled up to Dirt Cowboy for the requisite post-ride iced chai, a rainbow appeared. What could have been a crappy, rainy Friday night ended up being quite awesome.
Saturday was consumed, in large part, by another blown coilpack on the GTI. This was the worst one yet. Begem had to come rescue me. The only place to have any coilpacks on a saturday was autozone. I couldn't believe it. So, after about 50 trips back and forth to the car, it was fixed. Thanks a lot VW engineer. I hope that your pacemaker fails. This is #3 for those of you keeping track. What a stupid design.
Once the coilpacks were fixed, I moved onto the next project: getting the new Easton fork installed on the Serotta. Pics to come, but needless to say, its breathtaking. While at the bike shop getting a shorter caliper nut, guess who I saw in Dirt Rag!?! Spencer! Kate's Spencer! He wrote a big article on bike patrolling. Check it out. Here he is below showing off his mad skills. Nice work Spencer. You're a baller.
Saturday night was the official b-day get together. It turned out to be a food overload. Menu:
-Ben: Chicken Fry/"Fry Goscht", Basmati rice
-Begem/Kolene: South Indian Eggplant
-Shahid: Aloo (Indian Potatoes)
-Karl: Fresh blueberry tart
-Liz/Emily: Big spinach salad, three different types of zucchini bread, homemade fresh blueberry ice cream, surprise lemon-strawberry cake.
Just FYI...we also had leftover coconut-pineapple cake too. I've never seen so much dessert. Begem and Kolene had to take off to study, but the rest of us enjoyed a rousing game of Balderdash...my favorite. Thank you so much to everyone who made it such a special night.
Sunday morning, I rode the 28 miles of Hell with one of my new classmates, Mike. He's a Dartmouth alum, both undergrad and the school of public health. I stuck it to him pretty good and continued on to ride another 35 or so miles. I was chased by, not one, but a *pack* of german shepherds. I was screaming and riding towards the one that was leading the charge. I knew that if I showed any weakness, I was dead. Literally, there were 15 dogs chasing me. And of course, it had to be on an uphill. I think that I finally convinced them that I was crazy enough to not be worth it.
Today's the big day. The 6 month surveillance check. The bloodwork. The CT scans. The exam. I'm surprised; maybe I'm just emotional lately, but it is having more of an effect on me than I expected. Karl and I talked for a while last night. I still can't believe everything that I've been through in the past year. I guess that I'm also starting to realize that I'm not over Teresa. I thought that I had moved on. I thought that I had separated. I wonder if revisiting the cancer and Dr. Seigne brings her back to prominence in my mind. She also had lunch with Begem a couple of weeks ago. The discussion about that was not easy.
And with everything that I've been through, the craziest part is that there are people on this earth whose entire lives are more screwed than we could ever imagine. In the scheme of things, I'm so blessed.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
It's my birthday!
Since it's my birthday, you'll have to excuse my lack of an in-depth review of Nantucket last weekend. I apologize that it has taken so long to get here, but this week has been nuts. I taught Kaplan both Monday and Wednesday. Had to fit in a long, hard ride on Tuesday. Paul kicked my ass as usual on Eastman and Methodist, but I dished out the pain pretty well on Trescott coming out of town. So, here we are. Last night was my last Kaplan class! Hooray! Freedom to train in the afternoons/evenings!
Before I make a few notes on Nantucket, I want to clear up a few misconceptions. There appears to be a generational gap when it comes to understanding my magic emails from basementbooking@gmail.com. So, here are some FAQ's:
Who is basementbooking? They really seem to like you.
I don't know. All I know is that basementbooking is no one. Its a robot on a computer, likely somewhere in Asia
You really don't know who it is?
No, seriously I don't.
That seems like kind of a weird thing to put on your blog.
Well first of all, that's not a question. Second, do you take no pleasure in the little things, sir? Sometimes you have to take some time to appreciate the absurdity of the world that we live in. A robot in Asia sent me an email that was so poignant, so perfect, so utterly applicable, it was nothing less than art.
So, who's this Carl guy?
Again, I don't know. He's a robot.
Yeah, but don't you have a roommate named Carl? Doesn't that seem a little suspicious to you.
No, his name is Karl, and he's not a robot that lives in Asia nor is his last name "Chucklesworth."
What are you planning on doing for your birthday?
I have to lead a Family Medicine Interest Group Skills night on taking blood pressure. It should be interesting seeing as how its looking more and more like I'm hypertensive myself. Seriously...
Nantucket was amazing. I can't thank the Eklunds enough. We ate so well. We relaxed like pros. We played games. Wow. It was so wonderful to see my New England pseudofam, especially during such a special time. Andy was headed back for the long-awaited long term reunion with Allegra. And Susie was about to start med school this week. These are events that were years in the making. And aside from Thursday when I arrived, the weather was perfect. I even got in a couple of solid rides on the cyclocross bike. Nantucket would be the proverbial pot of gold for BikeSnobNYC. There was bike salmoning (and apparently even car salmoning) galore. Below you'll find a slideshow of the pics.
Before I make a few notes on Nantucket, I want to clear up a few misconceptions. There appears to be a generational gap when it comes to understanding my magic emails from basementbooking@gmail.com. So, here are some FAQ's:
Who is basementbooking? They really seem to like you.
I don't know. All I know is that basementbooking is no one. Its a robot on a computer, likely somewhere in Asia
You really don't know who it is?
No, seriously I don't.
That seems like kind of a weird thing to put on your blog.
Well first of all, that's not a question. Second, do you take no pleasure in the little things, sir? Sometimes you have to take some time to appreciate the absurdity of the world that we live in. A robot in Asia sent me an email that was so poignant, so perfect, so utterly applicable, it was nothing less than art.
So, who's this Carl guy?
Again, I don't know. He's a robot.
Yeah, but don't you have a roommate named Carl? Doesn't that seem a little suspicious to you.
No, his name is Karl, and he's not a robot that lives in Asia nor is his last name "Chucklesworth."
What are you planning on doing for your birthday?
I have to lead a Family Medicine Interest Group Skills night on taking blood pressure. It should be interesting seeing as how its looking more and more like I'm hypertensive myself. Seriously...
Nantucket was amazing. I can't thank the Eklunds enough. We ate so well. We relaxed like pros. We played games. Wow. It was so wonderful to see my New England pseudofam, especially during such a special time. Andy was headed back for the long-awaited long term reunion with Allegra. And Susie was about to start med school this week. These are events that were years in the making. And aside from Thursday when I arrived, the weather was perfect. I even got in a couple of solid rides on the cyclocross bike. Nantucket would be the proverbial pot of gold for BikeSnobNYC. There was bike salmoning (and apparently even car salmoning) galore. Below you'll find a slideshow of the pics.
Monday, August 17, 2009
More words of wisdom...
Had a fantastic weekend on Nantucket. Update is to come, but I just got my computer back. So until I can upload pics, etc, this other cyberspace gem will have to do. Basementbooking@gmail.com, keep 'em coming.
From: basementbooking@gmail.com
Baben! My phone died back there, so so so sorry I dont have you on the line now. I really wanted and needed to talk to you and hear your voice. You know, after all, I did sit this morning and think allot about health and what it meant for me to be alive today and in general what I want for myself and those around me, for you... In times I am so fucking reckless, sometimes or most times without trying but anyway, I felt this overwhelming and unexplainable sadness and love for everything I owe to good health and just feeling triumphantly for knowing that I do want to take care of myself and you, us, and to love you more and more each day. I love you ben and I am so lucky to be with you and want nothing more than to share so much more of whatever craziness I'm trying to get across here, but love is all that comes to mind in the end. Man. Yeah man!
I'm going to be so glad when this weekend is over and I see you in 3-d, real life rhino. The paris version. Please try me again, maybe tomorrow. I am free all day and not working. Please get back to paris safely. I want you!
God bless and namaste.
Carl chucklesworth
From: basementbooking@gmail.com
Baben! My phone died back there, so so so sorry I dont have you on the line now. I really wanted and needed to talk to you and hear your voice. You know, after all, I did sit this morning and think allot about health and what it meant for me to be alive today and in general what I want for myself and those around me, for you... In times I am so fucking reckless, sometimes or most times without trying but anyway, I felt this overwhelming and unexplainable sadness and love for everything I owe to good health and just feeling triumphantly for knowing that I do want to take care of myself and you, us, and to love you more and more each day. I love you ben and I am so lucky to be with you and want nothing more than to share so much more of whatever craziness I'm trying to get across here, but love is all that comes to mind in the end. Man. Yeah man!
I'm going to be so glad when this weekend is over and I see you in 3-d, real life rhino. The paris version. Please try me again, maybe tomorrow. I am free all day and not working. Please get back to paris safely. I want you!
God bless and namaste.
Carl chucklesworth
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
So, you think I'm a baller?
So, you're impressed that I fought my way through cancer. You might be impressed that I seem to have come out stronger on the other side. Maybe you're impressed that I raised a big chunk of change and rode a hundred miles. Well, I've got news for you. Apparently, it runs in the family. My cousin Robin recently received the New York State Innovation in Breast Cancer Early Detection and Research Award. I may have limped my way through, but Robin is truly a self-motivated person. She is a rock in our family, especially for her aging parents and her partner Una. Again, way to go Robin. You truly are a baller.
South Nassau Communities RN Receives State Award
Of course, she would never turn down an opportunity to stand on the soapbox. ; )
Two spoonfuls of sprint make the intervals go down.
Nothing like 15 second sprints at the beginning and end of a supermaximal threshold effort to push one deep into the "pain cave."
The legs are feeling much better and much stronger after a few days of rest and a little intensity over the weekend. Honestly, I think that it might have been the crashing. I guess you don't realize just how much crashing takes it out of you. My hand was doing much better until my classmate Mougnyan crushed it when he shook it on the bus.
South Nassau Communities RN Receives State Award
Of course, she would never turn down an opportunity to stand on the soapbox. ; )
Two spoonfuls of sprint make the intervals go down.
Nothing like 15 second sprints at the beginning and end of a supermaximal threshold effort to push one deep into the "pain cave."
The legs are feeling much better and much stronger after a few days of rest and a little intensity over the weekend. Honestly, I think that it might have been the crashing. I guess you don't realize just how much crashing takes it out of you. My hand was doing much better until my classmate Mougnyan crushed it when he shook it on the bus.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
A Gem
Every so often the cyberspace Gods look down and smile. Out of a chaotic and harsh world of electrons emerges a gem of infinite and unattainable wisdom. This afternoon I was given just such a gift. I received the following email:
From: basementbooking@gmail.com
With all do respect, I feel like the time travellers wife.
Surfs up.
As my new classmates arrive and my old ones move on, as the first hints of fall appear in the night air, as I still struggle to digest the last two years of my life, I can say without a doubt: "Me too...basementbooking@gmail.com...me too." I guess that there's nothing left to do but just sit back and ride the wave.
From: basementbooking@gmail.com
With all do respect, I feel like the time travellers wife.
Surfs up.
As my new classmates arrive and my old ones move on, as the first hints of fall appear in the night air, as I still struggle to digest the last two years of my life, I can say without a doubt: "Me too...basementbooking@gmail.com...me too." I guess that there's nothing left to do but just sit back and ride the wave.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Updato Weekendo
These days I awake almost every Monday morning to find the "Updato Weekendo" from Dad. I love hearing from him just to know what's going on and how he's feeling about life. I always find even the most mundane of weekend updates quite compelling. I've encouraged him to start a blog of his own, but he's hesitant. So, in his place, is my "updato weekendo."
Friday afternoons are almost always wonderful these days. Micheal Rea organizes a team recovery ride like clockwork. With the new listserv that I started for the team, people are emailing and showing for rides more and more too. In an effort to mix things up, Michael was offering a prize for the best socks. Of course, nobody had a chance against the pink polka dot knee-highs that Begem gave me. Along with the purple and white cow spotted Williams kit, it was a massacre. My prize? A giant oatmeal raisin cookie. So, so sweet. All friday afternoon recovery rides are followed by the requisite and ever-so-Euro cafe break at the Dirt Cowboy. We sipped, we relaxed, we laughed. It was awesome. So awesome, in fact, to inspire a team dinner to follow at Michael and Trevor's house. Karl and I headed home, showered, picked up chicken sausage, beer, and root beer, picked up Elle, and headed out. We cooked, we laughed, we acted a team. Again, so much fun.
Saturday morning brought the usual errands. Grocery trip. Got a new fan at Walmart. I even stopped at JoAnn fabrics. I needed some heavy duty thread to mend the strap that I had ripped off of my new Sidi's the day before. I had to use pliers to push a heavy duty needle through the Lorica. Still, they seem good as new. Karl and I cleaned 18 Drake. I did my laundry list of bike repairs, including swapping the stems on the road and cyclocross bike. The Serotta finally feels right and racy. The cyclocross bike no longer feels like I'm stretched out on an ironing board.
In the afternoon, I met up with Elle to go pick blueberries. I sported a backpack full of empty yogurt containers as we rode up River Rd to "Super Acres." The blueberries are already excellent. We picked for a long time in the perfect afternoon summer sun. We ended up with about 6.5 lbs of blueberries at $2/lb. We enjoyed some freshly baked pumpkin-chocolate chip bread that Elle had made. We cruised back. I picked up some farm fresh ground beef too. Considering that my iron saturation was a little low, I now have an excuse to pound the red meat. Unfortunately, the evening brought a strange and unfriendly stomach ache.
Karl and I have had an excellent time with the Elle thing. What *is* it about? Was that a date? All I know is that I love awkward silences. After one has been through enough relationships and one realizes that there are no consequences anymore, one craves anything that makes it seem exciting and new. She may be squirming, but I'm secretly jumping around and laughing like a little girl inside. Hehe. Even if it wasn't a date, I'm still loving that awkwardness. Hopefully she doesn't read this...
Sunday's weather was a bit more questionable, so I got up, ate, rolled out the legs, and headed out. After talking with multiple team members about my frustrations, I think that I've figured out part of my problem. My intense hunger to ride and my newfound endurance have manifested themselves in the form of almost exclusively long, medium-hard rides. My tempo pace is strong, but I've offered my body few opportunities for recovery. And I shouldn't be surprised that it hurts when the pace kicks up. I've done almost zero threshold training. In years past, my life was intervals on the rollers. It should have been no surprise that I would bonk after 15 minutes in those days too. So, the obvious choice now after a bit of rest is upping the intensity, shortening the rides, and regular rest. That made the 28 Miles of Hell the obvious choice after a couple days of rest. Even with a wrong turn that elongated the flat sections, I had still done over 2500 ft of climbing at 15 miles. I felt remarkably good hammering up 21% grades. After surviving the deadly Chow at the top of Eastman Rd, I thought that I was in the clear. I was hardly expected a stupid Beagle to run out of nowhere on the 40+ mph descent of off Methodist Hill. I nearly died. He nearly died. Screw him. Before I screamed and did an emergency turn, my wheel was headed square for his neck. He honestly might have been decapitated.
I spent the afternoon making Indian food and then eating meal after meal of it. A good weekend.
My "new" class starts orientation today. I still can't quite figure out how I feel about the whole thing, but the uncertainty obviously produces some anxiety. Today I'm speaking at the student affairs orientation. Basically, I'm going to tell them why I'll show up randomly at the end of November. Nothing like telling a crowd of 80 strangers that you had testicular cancer.
A brief update on my heath: My legs and torso are covered in lovely, sickly-brown bruises. Both hands are doing better, but still hurt at times. My poor right hand is really going to need some time to get back to normal. It is so hard for it to heal when I use it for everything. I can still feel that something "isn't right" inside my right ring finger.
Hope everyone out there is well.
Friday afternoons are almost always wonderful these days. Micheal Rea organizes a team recovery ride like clockwork. With the new listserv that I started for the team, people are emailing and showing for rides more and more too. In an effort to mix things up, Michael was offering a prize for the best socks. Of course, nobody had a chance against the pink polka dot knee-highs that Begem gave me. Along with the purple and white cow spotted Williams kit, it was a massacre. My prize? A giant oatmeal raisin cookie. So, so sweet. All friday afternoon recovery rides are followed by the requisite and ever-so-Euro cafe break at the Dirt Cowboy. We sipped, we relaxed, we laughed. It was awesome. So awesome, in fact, to inspire a team dinner to follow at Michael and Trevor's house. Karl and I headed home, showered, picked up chicken sausage, beer, and root beer, picked up Elle, and headed out. We cooked, we laughed, we acted a team. Again, so much fun.
Saturday morning brought the usual errands. Grocery trip. Got a new fan at Walmart. I even stopped at JoAnn fabrics. I needed some heavy duty thread to mend the strap that I had ripped off of my new Sidi's the day before. I had to use pliers to push a heavy duty needle through the Lorica. Still, they seem good as new. Karl and I cleaned 18 Drake. I did my laundry list of bike repairs, including swapping the stems on the road and cyclocross bike. The Serotta finally feels right and racy. The cyclocross bike no longer feels like I'm stretched out on an ironing board.
In the afternoon, I met up with Elle to go pick blueberries. I sported a backpack full of empty yogurt containers as we rode up River Rd to "Super Acres." The blueberries are already excellent. We picked for a long time in the perfect afternoon summer sun. We ended up with about 6.5 lbs of blueberries at $2/lb. We enjoyed some freshly baked pumpkin-chocolate chip bread that Elle had made. We cruised back. I picked up some farm fresh ground beef too. Considering that my iron saturation was a little low, I now have an excuse to pound the red meat. Unfortunately, the evening brought a strange and unfriendly stomach ache.
Karl and I have had an excellent time with the Elle thing. What *is* it about? Was that a date? All I know is that I love awkward silences. After one has been through enough relationships and one realizes that there are no consequences anymore, one craves anything that makes it seem exciting and new. She may be squirming, but I'm secretly jumping around and laughing like a little girl inside. Hehe. Even if it wasn't a date, I'm still loving that awkwardness. Hopefully she doesn't read this...
Sunday's weather was a bit more questionable, so I got up, ate, rolled out the legs, and headed out. After talking with multiple team members about my frustrations, I think that I've figured out part of my problem. My intense hunger to ride and my newfound endurance have manifested themselves in the form of almost exclusively long, medium-hard rides. My tempo pace is strong, but I've offered my body few opportunities for recovery. And I shouldn't be surprised that it hurts when the pace kicks up. I've done almost zero threshold training. In years past, my life was intervals on the rollers. It should have been no surprise that I would bonk after 15 minutes in those days too. So, the obvious choice now after a bit of rest is upping the intensity, shortening the rides, and regular rest. That made the 28 Miles of Hell the obvious choice after a couple days of rest. Even with a wrong turn that elongated the flat sections, I had still done over 2500 ft of climbing at 15 miles. I felt remarkably good hammering up 21% grades. After surviving the deadly Chow at the top of Eastman Rd, I thought that I was in the clear. I was hardly expected a stupid Beagle to run out of nowhere on the 40+ mph descent of off Methodist Hill. I nearly died. He nearly died. Screw him. Before I screamed and did an emergency turn, my wheel was headed square for his neck. He honestly might have been decapitated.
I spent the afternoon making Indian food and then eating meal after meal of it. A good weekend.
My "new" class starts orientation today. I still can't quite figure out how I feel about the whole thing, but the uncertainty obviously produces some anxiety. Today I'm speaking at the student affairs orientation. Basically, I'm going to tell them why I'll show up randomly at the end of November. Nothing like telling a crowd of 80 strangers that you had testicular cancer.
A brief update on my heath: My legs and torso are covered in lovely, sickly-brown bruises. Both hands are doing better, but still hurt at times. My poor right hand is really going to need some time to get back to normal. It is so hard for it to heal when I use it for everything. I can still feel that something "isn't right" inside my right ring finger.
Hope everyone out there is well.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Words of Wisdom
One great thing about the automatic email update on the blog is that my words and images are shot through cyberspace and distributed to those who care. One bad thing is that you guys tend to respond directly to me (via email) and tend not to use the comments function on the blog itself. Its bad because I wish that you all could see each others' responses.
My last post generated quite the response. Many people offered "words of wisdom." Without their permission (sorry guys), I'd like to share some of them here.
From Anna:
"heads up, champ!! you're one of the fastest riders i know, you're in med school in a beautiful town, you're smart and good-looking and have lots of friends! things will be speedy and cheery soon."
From Bruce:
"Riding should be fun. Take it easy on yourself.
'Not every ride is a race and not every race is a ride.'"
From Nan:
"Your visit home sounded great. I especially related to what you mentioned about your Mom and the shopping bout you two had.
Anyway, you are back in Hanover. Restarting school, enjoying the non-downpour days & moving forward in relationships. We still admire your full throttle approach to whatever you do. Hang in there on these shaky days. Your team is still here routing for you."
From Dad:
"I suggest you just keep cycling in perspective. There is running, swimming, work outs, road work, whatever, but you gotta get hand back to normal or beyond. Become a sex slave for exercise if you have to. But, give Mr. Hand a vacation.
So sorry about the accident, your hand and the bike, but hey, maybe THE UNIVERSE is trying to tell you something. Really. "
FYI...labs came back normal, except for some slightly elevated neutrophil counts. I think that my RBC and hGb should be higher in their ranges for an athlete that just came from altitude. No lyme titer yet.
Also just to make sure that everyone is clear, I'm not going back to school until late November. Though my new class is arriving now and the anxiety is beginning to mount, I'll remain in purgatory for bit longer.
Some of the artwork is starting to roll in at work:
My last post generated quite the response. Many people offered "words of wisdom." Without their permission (sorry guys), I'd like to share some of them here.
From Anna:
"heads up, champ!! you're one of the fastest riders i know, you're in med school in a beautiful town, you're smart and good-looking and have lots of friends! things will be speedy and cheery soon."
From Bruce:
"Riding should be fun. Take it easy on yourself.
'Not every ride is a race and not every race is a ride.'"
From Nan:
"Your visit home sounded great. I especially related to what you mentioned about your Mom and the shopping bout you two had.
Anyway, you are back in Hanover. Restarting school, enjoying the non-downpour days & moving forward in relationships. We still admire your full throttle approach to whatever you do. Hang in there on these shaky days. Your team is still here routing for you."
From Dad:
"I suggest you just keep cycling in perspective. There is running, swimming, work outs, road work, whatever, but you gotta get hand back to normal or beyond. Become a sex slave for exercise if you have to. But, give Mr. Hand a vacation.
So sorry about the accident, your hand and the bike, but hey, maybe THE UNIVERSE is trying to tell you something. Really. "
FYI...labs came back normal, except for some slightly elevated neutrophil counts. I think that my RBC and hGb should be higher in their ranges for an athlete that just came from altitude. No lyme titer yet.
Also just to make sure that everyone is clear, I'm not going back to school until late November. Though my new class is arriving now and the anxiety is beginning to mount, I'll remain in purgatory for bit longer.
Some of the artwork is starting to roll in at work:
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
UGH!
Up until 5 yesterday evening, things were looking good. I guess when one thing goes wrong, everything goes wrong.
I met up with Tom and Paul for a MTB ride. Tom gunned it out of the box, and I was struggling to keep up on the SS. Still, it seems like I just DO NOT have the juice lately. A month ago I was feeling awesome, now I'm getting owned all over the place. The ride was very steep and not SS friendly, so the ownage continued. And then things really got bad. On the descent I crashed AGAIN!!!! I was distracted by my pulsating and noisy brakes, another battle entirely. I landed with my right hand under my chest. My bike fell into a huge pile of rocks and so did I. My poor hand felt decimated. I had a massive dead leg. My freshly powdercoated frame not only has a GIANT black scuff mark from my shoe, but also has a big DENT in the chainstay. F*ck. And to top it all off, I was limping home when I noticed a girl doing a handstand against the fence at Hanover High. I thought, "WTF? That kind of looks like Grace." Then I came around the corner, turned my head, and was staring straight into Teresa's Dad's face. I had so little time to react that I didn't know what to do. I smiled, rode on, and felt kicked when down.
I got home, iced my wounds, discovered the dent in my frame, and found that I had even cracked one of my freehub spacers for the SS cog. Awesome. What a day. I ate a measly dinner and went to bed, as I had been planning to ride the 5:30am ride with Noah.
Slept like crap, trying to keep the hand elevated. I kept waking up to see if it had swollen like last time yet. Finally 5am came. Minimal swelling and no rain. Might as well shake out the legs. And of course, I got owned AGAIN. What the hell is wrong with me? I should be beating these older guys. I guess you could blame the SS ride less that 10 hours earlier, the crash, or the early hour. But I think that something is wrong. And of course...my chronic loose headset on the Serotta reappeared this morning too.
My luck had better turn around before my 6 months surveillance check in a two weeks. Not joking.
I met up with Tom and Paul for a MTB ride. Tom gunned it out of the box, and I was struggling to keep up on the SS. Still, it seems like I just DO NOT have the juice lately. A month ago I was feeling awesome, now I'm getting owned all over the place. The ride was very steep and not SS friendly, so the ownage continued. And then things really got bad. On the descent I crashed AGAIN!!!! I was distracted by my pulsating and noisy brakes, another battle entirely. I landed with my right hand under my chest. My bike fell into a huge pile of rocks and so did I. My poor hand felt decimated. I had a massive dead leg. My freshly powdercoated frame not only has a GIANT black scuff mark from my shoe, but also has a big DENT in the chainstay. F*ck. And to top it all off, I was limping home when I noticed a girl doing a handstand against the fence at Hanover High. I thought, "WTF? That kind of looks like Grace." Then I came around the corner, turned my head, and was staring straight into Teresa's Dad's face. I had so little time to react that I didn't know what to do. I smiled, rode on, and felt kicked when down.
I got home, iced my wounds, discovered the dent in my frame, and found that I had even cracked one of my freehub spacers for the SS cog. Awesome. What a day. I ate a measly dinner and went to bed, as I had been planning to ride the 5:30am ride with Noah.
Slept like crap, trying to keep the hand elevated. I kept waking up to see if it had swollen like last time yet. Finally 5am came. Minimal swelling and no rain. Might as well shake out the legs. And of course, I got owned AGAIN. What the hell is wrong with me? I should be beating these older guys. I guess you could blame the SS ride less that 10 hours earlier, the crash, or the early hour. But I think that something is wrong. And of course...my chronic loose headset on the Serotta reappeared this morning too.
My luck had better turn around before my 6 months surveillance check in a two weeks. Not joking.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Back in Hanover
Blog readers-
As usual, I must apologize for my lack of attentiveness to the blog. I have been thinking about it and taking lots of pictures to put up, but life has been pretty crazy lately. As you may know, I went home for about a week. The trip was a whirlwind and that contributed to my truant blogging. So, here's the rundown.
Tuesday, 7/21: After a wonderful goodbye lunch for our intern Kyla, it was time for me to say goodbye too. I hustled it down to Manchester and had a safe, event-free trip home on Southwest through Baltimore. I was beat from lots of work and teaching Kaplan the night before, so it was great to just sleep on the plane. I was also suffering from a bit of overtraining syndrome. I was tired all of the time, my heart would race when I would lay down, I was achey, and I was getting outsprinted by guys with whom I should have been. Plus, Southwest just gets it done. I love it. It was great to get home, see Mom, Gary, and Annie, and just zonk out.
Wednesday, 7/22: The requisite errand day at home. Haircut in the morning. Pho noodles with Kristen for lunch. Teeth cleaning. Acupuncture. REI run. Packed and picked up by Dad. Karyn's brother and sister-in-law were in town for dinner. Karyn made an incredible summer meal. Of course it was great to see Dad, Karyn, and Sophie!
Thurs, 7/23: Despite ominous skies and a late start after chorizo and eggs, Dad and I headed for Buff Creek where we rode for several hours. It was a great time, and the weather ended up holding just fine. Dad thought that BC was amazing and beautiful, and he even got to ride some trail that was lovingly built by Steve, me, and several hundred other people. Kristen and Suzie, Karyn's friend, came up for a wonderful dinner on the deck.
Fri, 7/24: Still up at Dad's house, I woke up with an insane pinch in my lower left back. That stupid 26 inch bike did me in. Ride plans were cancelled, and dad carted me off to the chiropractor. The craziest part of the whole experience was when he did xrays. He came in the room and said, "So, had some abdominal surgery?" and flipped on the backlight. I must have almost 40 clamps inside me. Crazy. I can't believe that I haven't set off the metal detector at the airport. No immediate difference in the back, but wasn't expecting miracles. Spent the rest of the day getting the Karate Monkey setup for me to ride with Steve the next day. Dad carted me back to Denver for the night. Mom, Gary, and I went over to Auntie's house for dinner with Auntie, Uncle John, Eli, and Emma. Emma is turning into a little person already, and Eli is firmly into the "mine!" and "no!" thing.
Sat, 7/25: I was up before dawn, and headed to the high country, miraculously free of back pain. Steve and I met in Pine Junction, consolidated to one car, and continued on down 285. Hugs were shared and ride plans were solidified. It was Como to Breck and back. It was the ride that he and I shared not long after we first met almost two years ago now. Its hard to believe. I can't imagine my life without Steve now.
We crested Kenosha and sped across the beautiful park. Pulling into Como is always breathtaking and exciting. We suited up and were off. It became apparent very rapidly that I was happy to have gears AND a 29er. I was already feeling the altitude. The gears made keeping up with Steve doable, though. We climbed the Gold Dust trail. We climbed and simultaneously railed the ever-so-banked-in-all-directions Flume Trail. We busted out above treeline. And we summited Boreas Pass. The trails down to Breck were far better than I remembered, partially because Breck has invested huge time and money to make them so. Very, very cool. After a rest in Breck, I was feeling fatigued and worried about our big climb back. We opted for the Pennsylvania Creek pass route, which is mostly on steep 4wd road. Though the climb was long and steep, we settled in and kept a nice rhythm. Again, passing treeline was almost magical for me.
We began to descend. It began to drizzle. And then I crashed...hard. I wasn't going fast, and Steve had warned me that the road was sketchy, loose, rutted out, and very, very steep. Still, I got on a bad line, tried to recover, had the front wash out, and was thrown from the bike into a ditch. I'm not sure exactly how I landed, but my right hand and my head took the brunt of the impact. My ring finger was decimated, and my helmet was scarred from rocks. I had silty soil in every orifice. Still, I was alive, and I was fine. I was able to ride out with some pain in my hand. I opted to skip the last section of trail in favor of the dirt road to save my hand the bashing of the rigid fork. Ultimately, it was a smart choice because we pulled up to the car, and it started to rain. What an epic ride Steve. Thank you.
Slideshow from Steve's album and my album:
As usual, I must apologize for my lack of attentiveness to the blog. I have been thinking about it and taking lots of pictures to put up, but life has been pretty crazy lately. As you may know, I went home for about a week. The trip was a whirlwind and that contributed to my truant blogging. So, here's the rundown.
Tuesday, 7/21: After a wonderful goodbye lunch for our intern Kyla, it was time for me to say goodbye too. I hustled it down to Manchester and had a safe, event-free trip home on Southwest through Baltimore. I was beat from lots of work and teaching Kaplan the night before, so it was great to just sleep on the plane. I was also suffering from a bit of overtraining syndrome. I was tired all of the time, my heart would race when I would lay down, I was achey, and I was getting outsprinted by guys with whom I should have been. Plus, Southwest just gets it done. I love it. It was great to get home, see Mom, Gary, and Annie, and just zonk out.
Wednesday, 7/22: The requisite errand day at home. Haircut in the morning. Pho noodles with Kristen for lunch. Teeth cleaning. Acupuncture. REI run. Packed and picked up by Dad. Karyn's brother and sister-in-law were in town for dinner. Karyn made an incredible summer meal. Of course it was great to see Dad, Karyn, and Sophie!
Thurs, 7/23: Despite ominous skies and a late start after chorizo and eggs, Dad and I headed for Buff Creek where we rode for several hours. It was a great time, and the weather ended up holding just fine. Dad thought that BC was amazing and beautiful, and he even got to ride some trail that was lovingly built by Steve, me, and several hundred other people. Kristen and Suzie, Karyn's friend, came up for a wonderful dinner on the deck.
Fri, 7/24: Still up at Dad's house, I woke up with an insane pinch in my lower left back. That stupid 26 inch bike did me in. Ride plans were cancelled, and dad carted me off to the chiropractor. The craziest part of the whole experience was when he did xrays. He came in the room and said, "So, had some abdominal surgery?" and flipped on the backlight. I must have almost 40 clamps inside me. Crazy. I can't believe that I haven't set off the metal detector at the airport. No immediate difference in the back, but wasn't expecting miracles. Spent the rest of the day getting the Karate Monkey setup for me to ride with Steve the next day. Dad carted me back to Denver for the night. Mom, Gary, and I went over to Auntie's house for dinner with Auntie, Uncle John, Eli, and Emma. Emma is turning into a little person already, and Eli is firmly into the "mine!" and "no!" thing.
Sat, 7/25: I was up before dawn, and headed to the high country, miraculously free of back pain. Steve and I met in Pine Junction, consolidated to one car, and continued on down 285. Hugs were shared and ride plans were solidified. It was Como to Breck and back. It was the ride that he and I shared not long after we first met almost two years ago now. Its hard to believe. I can't imagine my life without Steve now.
We crested Kenosha and sped across the beautiful park. Pulling into Como is always breathtaking and exciting. We suited up and were off. It became apparent very rapidly that I was happy to have gears AND a 29er. I was already feeling the altitude. The gears made keeping up with Steve doable, though. We climbed the Gold Dust trail. We climbed and simultaneously railed the ever-so-banked-in-all-directions Flume Trail. We busted out above treeline. And we summited Boreas Pass. The trails down to Breck were far better than I remembered, partially because Breck has invested huge time and money to make them so. Very, very cool. After a rest in Breck, I was feeling fatigued and worried about our big climb back. We opted for the Pennsylvania Creek pass route, which is mostly on steep 4wd road. Though the climb was long and steep, we settled in and kept a nice rhythm. Again, passing treeline was almost magical for me.
We began to descend. It began to drizzle. And then I crashed...hard. I wasn't going fast, and Steve had warned me that the road was sketchy, loose, rutted out, and very, very steep. Still, I got on a bad line, tried to recover, had the front wash out, and was thrown from the bike into a ditch. I'm not sure exactly how I landed, but my right hand and my head took the brunt of the impact. My ring finger was decimated, and my helmet was scarred from rocks. I had silty soil in every orifice. Still, I was alive, and I was fine. I was able to ride out with some pain in my hand. I opted to skip the last section of trail in favor of the dirt road to save my hand the bashing of the rigid fork. Ultimately, it was a smart choice because we pulled up to the car, and it started to rain. What an epic ride Steve. Thank you.
Slideshow from Steve's album and my album:
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