Perspective

It's been a while since I've either had time to post or had the motivation to post ... it's off-season, I'm super busy at work with quarter-end and, somehow, year-end. Where does the time go ? On one hand it seems like just yesterday we were gearing up for what would become an abbreviated 2009 season for me, but on the other, it seems like years ago with all that has transpired in between. The difference all lies in your perspective.

Perspective is something so simple yet so elusive to most of us. On a ride today, Mitch and I were talking about how much our perspective can change with something so simple as rearranging furniture or changing your route to work. That's our perspective, which is easy to change. Our external perspective - ie taking into account someone else's perspective, is much more difficult to change.

One subject that came up was how we all b*tch and moan about how bad things are in this country, but take one look across our very own border with Mexico and you'll suddenly appreciate what we have here. Listen to a few news stories about Afganistan or Iran or other countries in chaos or with severe dictatorships and all of a sudden we don't have it quite so bad. And while I'm definitely not a bleeding heart when it comes to illegal immigration, I can understand why they want their chance at the "American Dream". If roles were reversed, there's no question I'd make a run for it ... That is my attempt at perspective - There, but for the grace of god, go I.

Perspective isn't limited to huge social issues or hard-to-change policies - I firmly believe that most day-to-day conflicts could be avoided or resolved if everyone took a deep breath and considered all perspectives before flaking out.

Part of the reason this doesn't happen as often as it should lies in our type-A personalities ... that's something we can't change and it seems to be a prerequisite for any longevity in this sport. Get a few dominant personalities together and there's bound to be fireworks eventually.

Another part of the issue is that we feel so passionate about whatever we do - from our training to our work to our families to what color our bar tape should be. You might laugh at that last one but just try convincing someone to change their preferred brand/color of bar tape ... (I prefer lime green these days).

Combine both of the prior issues with pride - inability to back down, even if there's a slight-however slight-chance that we may be going at things the wrong way. Again, this is inherent in most cyclists (and most competitive athletes in general).

These issues are not unique to cyclists or athletes or to our times - I found a great quote that pretty much sums it up:

Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world.

- Arthur Schopenhauer.

Anyway, it seems that 2009 has been a year of perspective for me. I think perspective is a good thing, in general, but I think I've had my share of enforced perspective for a while.

Enough of the philosophical musings of an over worked accountant ... here's a shot of a multitude of bikes parked in my house a few weeks ago.

We planned a team ride but it rained so it was a trainer session. Of course, as soon as we finished, the rain stopped and the sun came out. It was all good - we had a great time together, no-one had to drive home in the rain and we didn't have to clean our bikes.

Talk about perspective.

TGIF - 10/23/09

This time last week, I was braving cold and windy conditions out in St. Michaels instead of posting a TGIF blog. Why would I do such a thing, you ask ? Because that was the site of Robin and Jason's wedding - yep, we lost another one. You can either read that as we single ladies lost another eligible bachelor or you can read it as bachelors and bachelorettes lost another friend to a member of the opposite sex. Either way, we lost something and Robin and Jason gained something ... just the way it should be when two of your friends get married and live happily ever after.

The wedding was amazing - beautiful ceremony with the prerequisite tears and "moments" followed by a kick-ass party complete with 1) a band, 2) lots of alcohol and, as a direct result of 1 & 2, a full dance floor. A good time was had by all, hands down the most fun I've *ever* had at a wedding. Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention cake. Mmm.... cake.

You can't see it in this photo, but that's a bike with a bride and a groom on the top. Fitting, no? I won't bore you with too much wedding talk, but I will mention two things:

First, the entertainment was incredible. The Phil Flowers Band flew in from Vegas just for this occasion. They had everyone out on the dance floor from the first note until the last. I had the pleasure of chauffeuring Phil back to BWI on Sunday after the wedding. The joke was that they didn't tell me who "Phil" was when they asked me to drive him back. Driving an old pal of Jason's back to the airport seemed pretty innocuous - then I found out that my passenger was going to be the 6'4" man wearing the red man-fur with his leather pants. Who gets to tell these kinds of stories? Phil was super-awesome-cool - both on stage and off. If you ever get out to Vegas and have the chance, it's well worth the price of admission.

So -(last wedding bit, promise!) - the time came for the ceremonial throw of the bridal bouquet. Robin was throwing it from the 2nd floor, which overlooked the dance floor where most guests had pushed and pulled single ladies from the audience for this event. She tosses the flowers and ... everyone kind of steps away and lets them land with a thud on the floor. There was an awkward pause as the audience expected a frenzy like *most* weddings have. Nope, not this group. A few seconds pass and some kind soul picks up the flowers. The rest of us laughed. Phil thought it was hysterical ... he told me on the way home that he had never seen anything like it. I don't know what exactly that says about this group of single ladies but it was entertaining, if nothing else.

Happy Friday!

A Flock of Seagulls

The Seagull Century - okay, okay, the title is pretty lame but it was too tempting to pass up.

Much like my trip to NC in August, I left my fate up to priceline on Friday night. I set a certain price I thought would never be accepted for a hotel. Obviously, it was accepted (otherwise I could have never used that title). I guess I'm going to Salisbury !

I ran into a couple of guys (from Arlington) unloading bikes as I arrived at the hotel. Chatting for a few minutes, I informed them that this would be my first ever century (at this time I was planning on doing the Metric, but who's counting?). One of them replied "ooh, a virgin." Before I could stop myself, I replied "it's been a while since anyone called me that." I thought they were going to fall down laughing. I am nothing if not entertaining.

That 30% chance of showers I saw on NOAA night turned into 100% chance of rain by the time I got to the starting area. Sommers called to let me know the DC Velo camp started early - he was chasing to catch on and I was at least 20mins behind if I started that second. Other friends I tried to connect with were caught up in traffic or not answering phones, so off I went. At first I thought that this was a mistake, I should have stayed home. But, I was here to ride my bike and I decided I was going to make a run at it.

There were people everywhere. Bikes ranged from TT rigs and hot-rod race bikes to lead-sleds with baskets and mountain bikes. I even passed a guy on a fixie. It was awesome. As I got up to speed, I tried my hardest to be nice when passing or dodging people. I knew I looked like an arse, fully kitted up, matching bar tape etc. These folks were riders and didn't appreciate racers for the most part. Much less one in pig-tails. But they were ALL OVER the road. Apparently the masses ride like they drive. That whole ride-right, pass-left concept is passe. I was going pretty well and making great time, but witnessing several near misses scared the crap out of me. Me - adverse to falling, remember ?? Good thing I employed acronyms to vent my (impatient and shallow) frustrations.

I settled into my rabbit-greyhound thing, chasing and passing groups like it was my job. One guy came back and passed me and I, knowing that I couldn't do this by myself for 60miles, latched on after riding up, introducing myself and letting him know I was back there. I took my turns and we'd chat for a second as we passed each other. I made an admittedly sarcastic but kidding comment about him leading me through traffic and he snapped back that he didnt ask me to follow him. Oookay. I went off by myself and a few minutes later (right before the first rest stop) he caught and passed me. I didn't really get it but, whatever.

I hooked up with a college-team-type paceline after getting going again- some of the guys were clearly racer-types, but others were in toe-clips and were having trouble covering gaps. After asking if it was okay, I jumped on to close a gap, winding up third wheel. Glad I made the move when I did - a couple minutes later there was the familiar sound of someone hitting the deck. It was one of the college-team's riders, so after making sure everyone was okay, I went on by myself.

It wasn't long before I hooked up with another strong rider -I was passing and before I knew it, he was taking his pull and we were clear of the group. Another rider joined us and we started charging pretty hard with a very smooth paceline ... We passed a ton of riders - some seemed surprised to have us pass so hard, especially if some chick in pig-tails and neon-green was on the front. There were several comments coming from the guys when they realized a girl just passed them. Not for nothing, that always makes me smile a little. I noticed the markings on the road where the metric split off. We were flying and I mentally registered that I had just made the commitment to the full ride. But this was too much fun for me to pull out now. We passed right by the 2nd feed where I briefly said hi to Robyn (Artemis)- very cool to see familiar friendly faces !

Another rider joined as we were chasing a strong group ahead of us. (when I went to introduce myself to him at the rest stop, he said he knew who I was, he follows our Team blog. I sometimes forget that people DO actually read the stuff we post!) Before I knew it, we were at the Assateague rest stop - I was tired but not beat. Honestly, I was thrilled with how the ride was going - both with the pace and the friendly people and conversations I was lucky enough to experience. What a great atmosphere.

Sommers came back to retrieve me at Assateague after "taking a phone call" (translation: getting dropped?) and losing the DC Velo paceline. Anyway, Mark was kind enough to pace me all the way to the Cherry Pie stop. We need a feedzone in road races like the Cherry Pie stop at the century. By now I was getting toasty and was thankful for Mark's steady pace. I did wish he had eaten some more pie or a burger or something, he's race-fit and doesn't afford much of a draft. I didn't know it then, but we had a pretty big crowd with us. Everyone was pretty quiet, just marking miles. Speaking of miles, everytime I asked where something was or how much we had to go, Mark's pat-answer was "7 miles". Never believe him if he says 7 miles. When I said as much, he switched to "count to 1000 pedal strokes and we'll be there". No fair.

The last little incline (not a hill, a big-ring incline) felt like a mountain. As we saw the finish, I heard the familiar sound of someone sprinting past me (usually it's my teammate as I finish my leadout- this time it was a complete idiot that sat on at the back and nearly took out the rest of the group to get the "win"). Everyone kind of shook their heads and laughed.

My shoulders hurt and my left knee was throbbing. I was tired, wet and my bike was a mess. But, I was happy. I had just finished a century. It seemed like an accomplishment of sorts. I know that, to lots of people, it's epic. There were Team In Training folks there from Texas and Nebraska. The two riders I hooked up with earlier have been doing this event for 17 years. There were signs cheering on Grandpa and Grandmom. At the end, people were cheering and clapping, celebrating a wonderful event and a personal achievement. I'm not going to pretend that there wasn't a moment where I got a little teary-eyed myself. But don't let that get around, okay ?



PS: riders above remain nameless in this post not because they don't have names, but because I didn't get permission to call them out before writing this.


PPS: I'll have more observations and commentary on this, I'm sure, but this post was getting long-winded, even for me.