FluxVapor

:: Death Day ::

2008-11-18T22:42:00.007-04:00

:: another anniversary. another time to stop and take stock. this year more than ever before, it's been tough to step back and survey the course. as my folks would say, been "keepin' my nose to the grind-stone." but it's scary when you are laying your own path; and the further down the road you get, the wilder the emotional swing: from great success to crushing defeat, from wanting to do too much to wanting to do nothing at all. two extremes hanging delicately in a balance: finish with a more of a push, or throw it all in a dumpster and seek satisfication elsewhere. is it possible to find personal definition without professional esteem? certainly not at this stage of the game. not for a little longer anyway. ::

:: when you're dreaming with a broken heart,
the waking up is the hardest part. ::
~ john mayer

:: Italian (mis)Adventure, the Finale ::

2008-10-14T11:55:00.003-04:00

:: finally, an hour and fifteen minutes late, the train arrives. i settle in on an 8” by 8” flip-out seat with a severe lean in the hallway huddled over my bags (i paid extra for this ‘first-class’ seat). 30 minutes later we enter a tunnel. the main lights go out and the train rolls to a stop. to my right is an italian gramma (who has not yet started chattering at me to my suprise), and look to her for support. in the dim light i can see she’s unaffected by the events, having long since grown accustomed to this sort of pandemonium. i work to convince myself that we are just paused while another train passes, but none come. eventually we’re moving again, and i chuckle at my near-panic. a short time later; another tunnel, another power failure, another near panic (which is repeated numerous time over the next two hours), but finally arriving to genoa. this time the delay is just over two hours, so i simply head to the ticket office and get in line to exchange my ticket: 25 minutes in line to find out that it’s the wrong one; the correct one being 30 minutes more. even getting a pack of my beloved ringos takes 15 minutes… i decide to make a pit-stop. not wanting to leave my bags unattended, they accompany me to the water-closet. with one hand holding my suit-case and the other holding garment bag above the flood, i am left unable to perform required duties typically associated with a trip to the wc. at last i am to the new track with the new train, number 666… figures. over the announcements i hear in Italian “something something something, train 666, something delayed 90 minutes, something something”. great. i can make out the youngsters on the platform giggling and saying “something something tren del diavolo,” loosely translating to ‘devil train’. fantastic. despite being late, my ride on the ‘devil train’ was unspectacular. i arrive to milano, take the aeroporto bus, and finally the shuttle to my hotel (still raining). at check-in i ask if there is anywhere close to get food at this hour (quarter past 11pm). ‘alore, sir, there is nothing open… un momento, let me phone a friend. ... yes sir, my friend will meet you outside in 10 minutes, take you to a pizzeria, and bring you back.’ ‘really?’ ‘yes sir, please check into your room to refresh and be back in 10 minutes.’ super! i hurry to my room, and open the door to a well-lit luxurous room. i wheel my bags inside and close the door. the lights go out. i open the door, lights on. close the door, lights off. (repeat several times before noticing the card reader on the wall inside the room). swipe hotel key card in reader, lights come on (with door closed) and ‘welcome shojo’ appears on the tv. wow! i head to the water-closet this time with hands free of luggage to finally perform the much required duties. lights off. ‘what the ___?!?’ ::

:: i mumble to myself, fumbling to maintain decency while opening the hallway door again to reactivate the lights, and reinsert the keycard into the slot this time leaving it there. lights on. at this point, i am convinced i have stored up enough good karma for the remainder of the trip, and thankfully i am correct. pizza driver shows up and i am wisked away to a lovely, and quite classy, pizzeria for a delicious calzone bigger than my head. pizza driver takes me back to the hotel, and i settle in for the night. the next morning i have breakfast, and head for the hotel shuttle i reserved the night before. 20 minutes after departure, a gaggle of female oriental travelers begin dragging hordes of luggage out of the hotel towards the still waiting shuttle. with a clearly annoyed groan, the driver gets out and begins loading. finally underway, the hotel driver passes the exit for the domestic flights and takes the international flight exit. the gaggle leader barks at the driver who does not respond. i understand her to say something about him being required to stop at the domestic flight first, and they are late for a flight, possibly to miss it. we arrive at the international flight terminal, and the gaggle leader is now furious at the driver, who stops the van and with very stern italian orders/cursing, instructs them to move so i can get out of the van. he then points out they were late, and i have priority since i was on time. at the back of the van, i thank the driver who winks and whispers ‘niente’ or no-problem. check in for the flight goes smoothly, and i pick up a few souvenirs (several italian silk ties for myself and some christmas presents for loved ones back home). when the plane doors close, there is no-one in front, behind, or beside me as i settle in for a much-needed relaxing flight home. apparently travel karma does exist… [fin] ::

:: Italian (mis)Adventure, Part 2 ::

2008-10-07T09:57:00.008-04:00

:: after the long flight i was hungry; i noticed the vanilla ringos in the window of a snack shop. hooray! victory number 3 (these are perhaps my favorite italian cookie - and i scarfed down the 8" long pack). struggling up the steps to the train, i decide that all of europe is designed for someone one-third my size. despite leaving on time (an italian rarity) we arrived at the transfer station 16 minutes late just as feared. dashing off the train i located the yellow time table (silently patting myself on the back for remembering this tid-bit) . thankfully, the universal law of italian lateness held, and arriving at 1108 was ok since the track i needed was empty but still listed '1052 roma'. i chuckled to myself as i watched a couple of americans struggle. 'i'm going to la spezia, does this train go to la spezia?' they would ask the italians (in english, mind you). after watching this painful sherrade for a few minutes, i stepped up and told them about the yellow train schedule poster. but it wasn't just the americans i gave directions to... my assistance was also requested from the other italian certainty... italian gammas that chatter at you, and tell jokes only they understand and laugh at, making for a very akward train ride. on this occurrence after about five minutes i was able to respond, 'si, niete lontano. venti minute.' ::

:: arriving (relatively) unscathed at my destination, i found myself actually enjoying the week. getting to flaunt my mastery of 50 some italian words in front of my scientific peers. fast forward to the end of the week. for some reason, i figured if i made it this far, things would be smooth sailing. the plan is to head to milan for an overnight hotel stay, and be well rested for the early flight home. i ask the concierge to call for a taxi. taxi shows up, and begins a conversation with the concierge. i make out that the trains in all of italy are ‘broken’ and he will not take me to the station. the rental car depots are closed being saturday, and the only option presented is a 400 euro cab ride to milan. remembering some peers with rental cars at the hotel down the way, i thank them for their help and am bombarded with italian – apparently they assumed i was going to pay the 400 euros without a fight. i trudge down the hill with my belongings in tow; running to get out of the rain, but careful not to loose a suitcase wheel around the switchbacks. i arrive at the other hotel and find my peers have already checked out, or are off hiking (i can see the keys to one of the rental cars, and thoughts of ‘the italian job’ movie flash through my mind). i head further down the hill to canvas the piazza (or square, not food) for potential rides. i meet up with other attendees in a similar predicament, and we team up. an hour later we’ve found two cars and two drivers willing to take us – but there are no road maps in the entire town….. as we get ready to leave, i decide to check on the trains one last time. to my delight, i find out that what was a ‘broken’ train is actually a strike, and the strike is only in the region south of us, and i need to head north. my driver (a government lab employee nearing retirement) takes me (a graduate student) to the train station, and behold (!) the trains are running. we bid our goodbyes and i hustle for the train. 10, 20, 30 minues go by. an hour… ::

:: Italian (mis)Adventures ::

2008-09-11T12:07:00.004-04:00

:: three years ago after my first italian adventure / fiasco, i promised myself i would never go back. well, life is ironic and i find myself presenting at a prestigious conference, a few kilometers down the road from where i spent three of the most maturing months of my life. but as they say, things are easier the second time around, right? well, my uncertainty of this claim started when i was in b&n looking over the language books (my previous set was on ebay within 24 hours of being back in the states). figuring since i lived in the country for a summer i could skip the introductory lessons, i picked up the intermediate italian lesson book. mamm mia! non capisco! replacing the book i resign myself to 'italian on the plane' and a long week ahead. alore... andiamo! ::

:: landing in milan, the aeroporto and stazione look different, but there was a strange familiarity. once i found the automatic train ticket machine, it all came rushing back. after about 15 minutes and several curse words, i had a ticket from milan to la spezia. the second success of the morning (finding the bus to the train station was the first - but the direct shuttle took most of the challenge out of this), but the first real set-back was just around the corner (literally and figuratively) when i ordered a cappuccino and promptly received an italian tongue lashing. alore, i had forgotten to obtain a biglietto before ordering. after the cappuccino, on to find the train. i had two options. one was on track 21 going to viareggio, the other on track 2: neither of which clearly stating genoa. of course, my ticket had the train number, but it wasn't listed anywhere else (like on the train itself for instance). thinking i was a smart traveler, i pulled out my bberry and googled both destinations figuring the one to the west of milan would take me through genoa where i was supposed to change trains. no luck, they were both in the west and both sounded familar. but seeing as i couldn't find track 21, i was fairly convinced given my usual luck, that would be my train and i should find it asap. as i fought my way through the crowd dragging my suitcase over countless number of italian toes on their way to work (mi dispiace!), i discovered track 21 completely disconnected from the rest of the terminal. as i walked down the track, i noticed the yellow time table just as i remembered that this was what i should have been looking for all along. sure enough, the train arrived in genoa at 1042. va bene. but... my ticket stated the train left genoa for la spezia at 1052... alore! 10 minutes to change trains. if there is one thing certain is that 'on time' in italian translates to '15-30 minutes late, if at all' in english. ::

:: God's Country ::

2008-08-18T16:14:00.010-04:00

:: when i was a little plump chump, i'd often be riding quietly in the back seat on sunday drives when pop would remark 'ah, this is God's Country!'. just as youngsters dismiss the wisdom of their elders, i'd dismiss his remark feeling the present sights of trees and shrubs weren't nearly as majestic as other wonders of the world as i'd seen on tv or in picture books. when college time came, i found myself smack-dab in an urban setting - not once did i ever hear pop say 'ah, this is God's Country!', even though i thought things were pretty fantastic in the big city. a few years later i started making the trek back and forth from home to urbania by way of 'God's Country'. it took a few trips before i started to enjoy the sights, and it wasn't until i had the choice of where to relocate after college that it hit me how majestic tree-covered gently rolling hills can be. as another relocation looms, i'm facing these feelings again: am i willing to sacrifice the utopia i find cycling or running through a patch of woods for vocational reasons? ::

:: when i heard the 'God's Country' marathon mountain bike race had been revitalized, it naturally was something i had to try. although marathon xc isn't my forte, it would be good training for ridestrong regardless of the outcome. i mentioned it to pop on the phone, and he said 'it's going to be tough. you'll be riding in 'God's Country'!' well, long story short, he was right but much to my surprise i managed a top 10 placing in the open class, with a ride time of 5:18 for ~53 miles. perhaps the best part of the day though came from the critter sightings on the way up - 9 deer, 25 turkeys, 3 red squirrels, 2 chipmunks, and 1 baby black bear. equally impressive were a few vistas from the top of climbs. and at one point i even found myself muttering 'ah, this is God's Country.' thanks pop, for instilling wisdom and appreciation of something so beautiful::

:: Preparing to Honor ::

2008-08-05T10:01:00.006-04:00

:: less than three weeks away is the '08 livestrong challenge, and i have promised myself i would ridestrong in memory of a recently unexpected departed. it's time to make sure i can uphold that promise. stirring at 8am on a rainy saturday morning slightly nervous about the physical exertion experiment i have planned for the day - to replicate the necessary climbing endurance that is required in a few weeks. last year at this point, i had been doing this for months and was confident the course, although challenging, would not best me. the proposed course this year is the same. but i am not. ~ time to place worries and apprehensions in the crucible - prove to myself and my cause this will not be a mockery ~ time flies by with nary a concern aside from fresh oil and chip on the descents of the first 3 climbs. stopping for refueling at the cyclist's oasis (uni-mart), i opt to include the tentatively scheduled climb 7 & 8 to push past my goal and reach 8900 ft of climbing and up the distance to 75 miles. at this point, i had neglected to notice the man with the hammer was sucking my wheel ready to pounce... 4 hours and 10 minutes in, as i start climb 8 i meet him head on. a section of road ridden almost weekly for five years is transformed to an insurmountable enigma. pushing on i eventually defeat the man with the hammer and arrive home at 5:06. the body is tired and broken, but the mind is ready for what is ahead - i can humbly proceed with some small amount confidence that the memory of departed will not be tarnished by ineptitude. ::

(you are wise, honest, loyal, humorous, respected and loved. may my 'missa defunctorum' be welcomed and reverent in your memory dear rolly.)

:: please consider donating to my livestrong challenge 08 philadelphia event in memory or support of a loved one battling cancer. thank you. ::

:: Requiem For A Friend ::

2008-06-02T12:21:00.011-04:00

:: my heart is heavy today... for a fish...
for a fish that was a friend... ::

:: i've had little opportunity to have pets. a few crayfish pop and i collected in the stream at the end of the street growing up (that usually ended up as a snack for the local raccoon), a wild rabbit that would do tricks in the family room and beg for apple-peels. and a few fish in my aquarium. ::

:: i'd had a pufferfish in baltimore years ago that was a very finicky eater. most just sit on the bottom or stare at their reflection. two years ago the local shop had some puffers; when the clerk opened the top one jumped out into the neighboring tank and i told the clerk that was the one i wanted, thinking the little fellow had some spunk. jeff quickly became a good friend and companion, providing hours of entertainment: whether following me as i vacuumed the rug, watching me make dinner in the kitchen and giving hungry looks, or pouting in the corner when i added new fish which turned out to be bullies (i caught him hiding behind the giant algae-eater rufus easily twenty times his size, which he had befriended for protection). he'd be the one to welcome me home, and would rest close-by as i napped on the couch. everyone that met jeff was immediately captivated by his fluttering fins and his rule-the-roost attitude. if you met jeff, you had an immediate friend. ::

:: within a matter of hours last week, everyone looked suddenly ill. even with medication, the prognosis was not good. saturday i thought we were in the clear, but things took a turn for the worse. last night before bed i peered into the tank with the all the lights off. jeff was playing in the bubbles as if unaware he was sick and should be taking it easy, and swam over when he noticed me sitting there. the little fellow was covered in spots, and i knew the inevitable was near. this morning, just as i feared, he was wrong-side up. as i was saying a few last words, his fins fluttered back to life and he darted to play in the bubbles again one last time. ::

:: thank you for the memories my fishy friend.
and thanks for being a fighter to the end... ::

:: Infinite Regression ::

2008-02-18T11:26:00.008-04:00

:: here is a painting of a landscape. now the artist who painted that picture says something is missing, what is it? "it is i myself who was part of the landscape i painted." so he mentally takes a step backwards, or regresses, and paints a picture of the artist painting a picture of the landscape. but still something is missing. that something is still his real self painting the second picture. so he regresses further, and paints a third. a picture, of the artist painting a picture, of the artist painting a picture of the landscape. and because something is still missing, he paints a fourth and a fifth, until he paints a picture of the artist painting a picture, of the artist painting a picture, of the artist painting a picture of the artist painting a landscape. it is the moment that our artist has regressed to point of infinite and himself becomes part of the landscape he painted; he is both the observer and the observed. ::

:: well now in that peculiar condition, what would he be observing, if he were observing, let's say, time? ::

:: he would perceive that time is like a freeway with an infinite number of lanes... all leading from the past to the future, however not into the same future. a driver in lane 'a' may crash while a driver in lane 'b' survives. it follows that a driver, by changing lanes, can change the future. ::

:: time can only be fully understood by an observer with a god-like gift of infinite regression. ::

:: Groundhog Day ::

2008-02-03T00:44:00.000-04:00

:: the prognosticating whistle pig of gobbler's knob predicts a few more weeks on the trainer ::

:: False Alarm ::

2007-12-22T22:00:00.001-04:00

:: scratch that. silly me thought a subaru dealer could put a subaru back together properly. after giving them close to $9000, i spent the last 24 hours chasing down a coolant and oil leak. good news is that i found it (it was a challenge, the underside looked like the exxon valdeze). bad news, a solid metal oil line is busted. rex goes back to the dealer. and as if that isn't frustrating enough, they're out of rental cars at the airport... ::

:: Santa Stopped By ::

2007-12-22T11:45:00.000-04:00

:: just in time for the holidays, santa left rex under my tree. ::

:: Death Day ::

2007-11-18T13:54:00.000-04:00

if you're worried and you can't sleep,
just count your blessings instead of sheep.
~ irving berlin
::

:: generally the bicycle is a place to avoid cogitation... a safe-haven for the psyche. but today is the seven year anniversary of death day, and i let my thoughts roam unfettered about. my mind drifts to the most recent extraordinary meeting of animal, november, and myself... how the aftermath of both was a delicate balance of personal resolve and necessity to admit helplessness. i must be careful in my musings though, not to defile what is perhaps my most important day. i must not unite into one rationale, the causes and effects of the two events, despite how remarkably similar... for today is the day i celebrate the delicacy of life, and the vigor this understanding can ignite. ::

:: Back In The Saddle ::

2007-11-14T02:02:00.000-04:00

:: i try to take things one day at a time. but recently several days attacked me at once. juggling insurance agents, interviews, rental cars, conference talks, paper reviews... the stress has taken a toll. shoulders tight, stiff neck, tingly fingers, preventing the one cure i am sure will work. enough is enough, with a day to beautiful too miss. just the thought of not getting out made me sad. prozac, paxil, zoloft, cymbalta... a recent study suggests 25% of americans are over-medicated. and 70% report no improvement with them. i'm lucky to have figured out my drug of choice - endorphines. ::

:: New Day ::

2007-11-06T09:15:00.001-04:00

:: today will be better than the previous few. but today feels colder than yesterday. i am more tired today than i was last night. i know today will be long, hard, cold, and probably frustrating. as i sip the warmth of my shojo-bucks at the bar in my kitchen, i spy a brilliant glow creeping into my vision. opening the back door, i venture into the frigid outdoors. a maple tree, standing apart from the forest, both in location and hue. illuminated by the early morning sun, against the storm clouds still lingering from last night. the single tree gives hope and is an inspiration. today will be better than the previous few. it has to be. ::

:: Hunting Season ::

2007-11-03T18:16:00.001-04:00

::
twas the morning of a cross race, and i'd just left my house,
happy valley was quiet, too early for even a mouse.
two bikes on the roof, secured there with care,
what would soon happen, i was completely unaware.

i was wishing that i was still snug in my bed,
but thoughts of great racing were filling my head.
the leaves were so pretty in the glorious morning sun,
daylight approaching, was causing the fog to run.

when just off my bumper there arose such a clatter,
i knew immediately what was the matter
what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a not-so-miniature, scared, female deer.

descending from the cliff above, with the greatest of ease,
she hit the asphalt, and buckled her knees.
'why does this deer fly? it's not christmas-time,'
'but please stay put, and everything will be fine.'

i pleaded with the deer to move no further,
she took one more step forward, inevitable was the murder.
downshifting and cursing, all happening in a flash,
horrible things were to come, surely a smash.

then silence and calm, vision filled with fur and a mist,
a whiff of antifreeze, the engine died with a hiss.
police and road service arrived in awhile,
tales of 7 deer dead this week, this quarter-mile.

101,000 happy miles, behind the wheel,
now on a flatbed truck, my head started to reel.
how to get home, who to call, and how much,
my brain started to hurt, as i thought of such.

but as i watched my trusted friend be hauled out of sight,
another friend came, and i knew things would be all-right.

::

:: Happy Halloween ::

2007-10-31T14:57:00.000-04:00

:: Monkey Off My Back ::

2007-10-29T10:36:00.000-04:00

:: some of you may remember this infamous shot of plump_chump from last fall, neatly summarizing how i've felt about cycling for the last while. following a quadruple-header cross weekend, i present a new picture. and in case your monitor is wonky, the number is two, and the color is gold. ::

:: Rain ::

2007-10-23T19:52:00.000-04:00

:: there's just something about riding in the rain ::

:: funny thing happened when i was riding back from rothrock intervals today covered in belgian toothpaste... i was rolling along the bike path, when a giant suv stopped right in the crossing. i wanted to glare at the driver, but i stopped when i noticed his gynormous belly protruding over the seatbelt and reaching the steering wheel, and that he was stuffing his face with a giant burrito. i didn't think that i should have to ride around his truck since i had the right of way, but on the other hand, i was glad that i could. ::

:: Clydesdale ::

2007-10-16T19:08:00.001-04:00

:: 1st place clydesdale: fastest fatman, or fattest fastman? either way, i have some new armwarmers and this lovely certificate. but what is a 'cyldesdale'? ::

:: Interpertated Instructinal Directions ::

2007-10-09T04:04:00.000-04:00

:: i was pretty sure i knew what i needed to do, until i read the directions... and i quote:

advice of fitting: according the shape of the crank, use or not the washer. (washer) use a t10 torx key to tighten the (bolt of stop drop pin) bolt. tightening torque of pin against over shifting.

apparently the folks who translate the cross news are moonlighting ::

:: What...A...Mess ::

2007-10-08T22:43:00.000-04:00

:: cross season starts when? ::

:: Competency ::

2007-10-04T16:37:00.001-04:00

:: received a letter in the mail today. one of those that both thrills and terrifies. here is a tasty snippit...

dear session chair:
... your selection as a session chair carries with it the recognition that you are knowledgeable in your field and competent to oversee a session at a meeting...

(gulp) i guess there is some work to be done before november... ::

:: in other news, the third cross practice of the year was by far, the best. the fool-hearty four were in attendance, and we did the usual warm up, start sprints, barriers, and chase our tails. start sprints, despite continued problem finding my cleats, were much improved over previous sessions. uphill barriers similarly, followed by near-catastrophic downhill barriers (by this point of the evening, r-lee's training tutelage that was well evident in the sprints, began taking a toll on the legs with the quads firing randomly at will - theirs, not mine - thus resulting in a few scary moments). the yearly cross-parts hunt is almost complete (with a last minute decision to go double ring on the pit bike to facilitate interval abuse), and so this weekend will be the yearly cross-ebay fest. see you all at iron cross lite! ::

:: If Only I Could Apply ::

2007-09-20T21:52:00.001-04:00

:: for a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. but here was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, or a debt to be paid. then life would begin. at last it dawned on me that this was my life. this perspective has helped me to see that there is no way to happiness. happiness is the way. ~ alfred d souza ::

:: One Second ::

2007-09-09T11:55:00.000-04:00

:: fans may remember my april 1 post 'court date', about the 40km time trial down in carlisle. back then i didn't really fit into my skinsuit, and the best i could muster was a 68:03 (21.9 mph avg), and i vowed i'd be under an hour before the season was over. since then, i've done a few shorter tt's and watched my weight going down and average speed coming up. but thoughts of breaking an hour vanished after a 63:50 40km at pa states on monday. after persuasion that the carlisle course was faster, and i was probably still recovering from livestrong, i opted to give it another shot. a fitful 4.5 hours of sleep with drunkards outside my window, out of bed at 4am. donning the skinsuit (it fits! 17 lbs less tight) i had doubts. each 5km that went by i saw 15 seconds off my pace, seeing alot of 17-19 mphs and not many above the required 24.9 mph. turn around at 31:47. didn't help either that my only rabbit was a 4 man team just in front of me. still, only one had caught me, and i figured since i had to ride back to my car anyway, i might as well bury it. the next 5km was dead even with hour pace. at 30km i thought my oxygen deprived brain was tricking me, but i'd made up almost 45 seconds. i started seeing more 27-29 mphs with a nice long stint at 31.5. with 1km to go, sweat streaked my visor and i couldn't make out the time but knew it was close. crossed the line and conversed with a bush for a few minutes before heading back to check the time. one second. 59:59 ::

:: Livestrong - Thank You ::

2007-08-24T18:04:00.000-04:00

:: 18 yellow livestrong braclets on my seatpost representing each donation in my name for the livestrong challenge this weekend. thank you for your generosity! stay tuned for more stories and pictures afterwards. ::

:: Make It a Double ::

2007-08-21T11:47:00.001-04:00

:: gray skies over monotonous existence. rejecting lethargy in spite of it's profusion; time for action. fill the void with torture lest apathy gain hold; turn towards the source of indifference. upwards and into the heart of the storm. droplets streaming now; sweet mix of rain, sweat, and tears. each effort lifts from the tempest below; each effort lifts towards the opening above. an excercise not for destination but passage. make it a double... ::

perdue mountain double shot, 39 mi, 4026 ft, fixed

:: LiveStrong - a preview ::

2007-08-13T23:45:00.001-04:00

:: here's a slight preview of what is in store for the livestrong challenge ride on the 26th - 98.2 miles and 8400 feet of climbing. yippee! ::

:: Gravity Demons Almost Win ::

2007-08-07T13:18:00.000-04:00

:: one tough day for shojo! for some reason, i'd had it in my head to do this ride for awhile now. it's one i've been doing on feb 14th as the first ride of the season; what i call my 'lookin for love' ride and the last time i did it, it took me 4:35. i wanted to see how much i've improved since feb, so i tack on an additional 1000 ft climb to start and an extra 500 ft in the middle up to the I-80 overlook at the top of moose run. after about 1:40 i was already over halfway through this new version, and feeling great. things started to not feel so great part way up the biggest climb - moshannon, so i stopped at the spring for a break. even the teeming artesian well was looking a bit faint, but still provided some much needed fresh water. back at it, and things started falling apart. over the next 20 some miles and 2300 ft i didn't get out of the saddle and kept my head down. 5 miles from home i stopped to regroup and found the last bit of energy and made it back to the house, to the shower, and then to bed. from 4:35 and 5800 ft to 4:05 and 7300 ft in 6 months. not bad i'd say. except for all the suffering in between ::

:: DIEt ::

2007-08-03T23:34:00.000-04:00

:: it strikes me as odd that the word diet is just die with a t tacked on for good measure. plump_chump is slowly dieing. not nearly as quickly as i'd like, but it's happening. unfortunately, motivation and ambition are too, but we'll work on that. the above graph is the progress. units have been removed to protect the innocent, or guilty, whichever. close inspection and you'll see we're on our way. however, using my incredible matlab prowess, i extrapolated the curve, added some delineating lines between plumpchump, shojo, and gebnor; and the cross season. in a strange twist of fate, we can see gebnor won't be making a cameo this fall. any suggestions? ::

:: 'Professional' ::

2007-07-30T15:39:00.000-04:00

:: i've met some wonderful people cycling, and i've also met a fair share of chumps too. this is a story about the later. back in the day, i rode for a team which to maintain anonymity we shall call vsl. vsl was formed by succeeding from a snooty parent club to provide a safe-haven for cyclists who weren't necessarily the fastest thing on two wheels, and welcomed me with open arms. i spent many wonderful hours riding with folks i met weekend mornings and hanging out at the local bike shop. now fast forward 5 years... the team has grown and a sponsor shows up to sponsor the 'elite' team. by this point many of us had purchased accessories and even bicycles that matched our old kit, and overnight we went from an elite and very stylish club, to looking like a gang of rag-tag rookies who shopped at the cycling goodwill. at this point, i moved away and it was very clear the club was too big and uninterested in my membership. at races though, i'd always ride up to an vsl cat and say hey. 9 times out of 10 i'd be scoffed or completely ignored as we bumped elbows in the peleton. but on the rare occasion my presence was acknowledged i'd ride until i met the man with the hammer to get my new friend to the front. now fast forward another few years to this past weekends tour d'toona. i see the aforementioned sponsors name plastered on the side of a truck which is painted the garish colors of the most recent vsl kit. while the race was going on, i spotted a fellow by the truck who looked very important, and stopped by to say hey. i asked if a few of the members of the old elite team were racing, and was met with a blank stare. he did admit they sounded familiar, and i said that i used to race for vsl. his response, in true chump fashion was, 'oh... they're amateurs. we're professionals.' he then decided our conversation was over. with all of the hooplah the last few weeks regarding professional cycling, i walked away disappointed that such a chump represented a sport i enjoy following. in the final sprint, a chumpster's buddy was in it, but i didn't cheer for him to win it... and he didnt... i know, i know, not very professional, but hey, i'm just an amateur. ::

:: Raccoons ::

2007-07-17T18:59:00.000-04:00

:: it seems that when i feel good in a race, i will certainly do horrible. however, if i feel horrible, there is a 0.005% chance than my performance will be spectacular (at least by shojo standards). such was the case at the raccoon rally. saturday for the road race, i was feeling confident having done some hard training and only have 600 feet of climbing per lap. after 18 minutes of feeling like making a break off the front, i realized my mistake... it was 600 meters of climbing... boom done off the back. picked up and passed a few others, and got a semi-respectable 27th place finish in a huge field. sunday i didn't want to get out of bed, i didn't really warm up due to the soreness, and i wasn't really that excited about mountain biking (and haven't been since death day). but a remarkable ride ensued the start gun. within a few minutes i was in the top 30 of a field of several hundred, and after 20 minutes i'd passed 15 experts that started 5 minutes ahead. went on to get a 5th place finish in my class, despite practically stopping to wrestle with a bag of sport beans. so now i'm thinking i'll skip the tour d'toona, and do a 6 hour mountain bike race up in ellicotville. stay tuned to see how i feel for that! ::

:: Midnight ::

2007-07-14T23:04:00.000-04:00

a new day begins, before i end the previous,
awake still. body weary, but mind animated.
a month has passed since proving intellect,
respite earned, yet restful sleep evades.
::
monsters under my bed no longer give fright,
when compared to those hiding in the back of my mind.
what merit they have i cannot discern,
with no strength left to banish them, they roam free.
::
laying awake i stare into the night,
watching sun, moon, and stars in their ceaseless flight.
no help are sheep to count, or any of the usual tricks,
that used to quite the mind and force a slumber.
::
i turn to a friend, in hopes of freeing the sleep,
one who has special meaning to me which i cannot explain.
i escape the bed which no longer comforts,
and flee into the darkness, with a guttural roar.
::
floating as if dreaming, into the countryside,
to a place i seldom visit when cloaked with night.
the road appears before me, a hundred yards at a time,
i ease off the throttle as critters great and small cross my path.
::
the wind on my face penetrates my head, and clears the mind,
enabling sight of the greater picture, with each passing mile.
floating along i forget the mistakes i've made,
and the more haunting thoughts of ones i've missed.
::
with engine silenced, the world is transformed by starlight and bullfrogs,
so bright and loud now without synthetic glow or roar.
it is simple to remain strong with companionship,
but alone the strength is found much deeper in the soul.
::

:: Tired ::

2007-06-25T20:38:00.000-04:00

:: 3 days, 150 miles, 14,700 ft of climbing. keep this up, and plump_chump may have to retire. perhaps gebnor will make an appearance this cross season... ::

:: Gravity Demons, Devil's Elbow ::

2007-06-23T22:34:00.000-04:00

:: hardest...ride...ever... overview by the numbers: 6:40 hours, 4384 calories, 80.2 miles, 8110 feet of climbing,~20 miles of gravel roads, ~2000 feet of gravel climbing, 4 water bottles, $5.80 at unimart, $1 emergency tire boot, 1 tube, 16g of CO2, 2 bags of sport beans, 1 bag of sharkies, 1 reeces fast break, 16oz amp tall boy, 20oz gatorade (lemon lime). r-lee (aka dieter) suggested this ride to me about a month ago, and i've been itching since to try it. i did black mo on friday and it's 4300ish feet of vertical, and was feeling a bit skeptical. heck, i would have been skeptical had i had an easy day before. but i figured i'd give it the old college try (with 10 years of it, i should know what that's all about). so i grabbed the camera, gps, phone, food, water, tube and tools, and headed out, with my jersey pockets looking like an obese chipmunk....

... and before i am out of town i run into the biggest black bear i've seen this side of a zoo fence...

... i should have known what was in store...

... after 3.5 decent climbs, it just kept going...

... and going, now with gravel...

... this sign says it all...

... r-lee's 'gravel' road...

... the 'gravel' road turned out to be 20 miles of freshly graded boulders that ate the sidewalls of both tires. used an old mtb trick, i wrapped $1 bills around the tubes where the casing was cut. this was between hours 3 and 4, so my memory is rather foggy, but i do remember trying to call r-lee to come pick me up, but my phone was dead. and i had no idea where i was even with a gps... so in synopsis: bear, climb, climb, climb, gravel, boulders, gravel climb, boulder climb, gravel descent, scarry redneck town, bonking at unimart, cut ride short and ride along highway, climbing, sleeping, and aching. epic. ::

:: Comprehensive Examination ::

2007-06-11T12:12:00.000-04:00

comprehensive - adj: including all or everything, broad in scope
examination - n: detailed inspection or analysis of an object or a person

:: Go Time ::

2007-06-08T11:06:00.001-04:00

:: it's go time. number two of the three dreaded grad school moments: the comprehensive exam, 4.5 days of excruciating mental torture. the last few days have been spent preparing myself physically and mentally. 2 hour climbing ride yesterday, cleaned the house, and went to the grocery store. the espresso grinder is full, 12 pack of redbull in the fridge, and a pound of chocolate covered espresso beans; all three caffeine food groups. in 20 minutes, the clock starts ticking on the 72 hours i have to complete written questions, which can be about anything they want. i have a feeling that i might not get much sleep this weekend, but then again, i might not be able to. ::

:: in other news... the war hasn't been won yet, but the battle was victorious. 24 hours ago, my pal was unconscious, paralyzed, and had been life-flighted twice. today, he is home, able to talk and move. he never ceases to amaze and inspire. ::

:: Perspective, Part 2 ::

2007-06-06T23:31:00.000-04:00

:: with comprehensive exams looming in the not so distant future, i have been feeling justified with putting my mental and physical needs first, doing what i need to do and thinking what i need to think to make it through. feeling sorry for myself / being stressed / depression / frustration / etc. all warranted in my mind. and then a shift in perspective. a dear friend is hospitalized from a stroke. on heavy sedatives, the doctors are unsure as to the prognosis of the paralysis. considering the complications of a rare birth-abnormality that affects 0.07% of the population, things are even more uncertain. my questions of what i should be studying or whether or not i will pass, are replaced with whether i should be hoping my friend pulls through, or is permitted release from a life that has been a struggle; a struggle incomprehensible for the other 99.93% of us. he has faced challenges that would have long ago left me bitter and jaded, but he perseveres with a smile and a laugh from, and often times about, what is left of his mortal body. so tonight i pray for only one thing; that the answer will come quick. Godspeed dear friend, which ever path He chooses. ::

:: 2Bliss ::

2007-06-06T22:02:00.001-04:00

:: i know what you are thinking already... 'shojo on a mountain bike?' well, it does happen. occasionally. after 7 flats in 2 rides out in rothrock, i was about to chuck the darn thing off the top of the ridge trail and walk home. but after much pestering from gcorman at the shop i opted instead to try tubeless tires again. the last set was a miserable leaky failure, constantly having to stop to pump them up. but since it was getting to the point that i was having to patch my second backup tube anyway, i might as well try. since pre-comp stress prohibited me from the weekly shop ride antics, i instead rode the last few days around the toftrees new improved race course. the first thing i noticed was how smooth everything now felt, running 35 psi and not the 60 i had been (coupled with dropping the fork pressure from 150 to 85 psi). the second most exciting thing i noticed was how quiet everything now is. no more 'ping' that echoes through the woods. now only a 'ooo-sshhh ooo ooo-sshhh' from the fork oil over bumps. pure (2)bliss. ::

:: Hillbilly Deight ::

2007-06-05T02:30:00.001-04:00

:: when a ferrari is crafted in maranello, it dreams of one day breathing it's v12 fire on the f1 monte carlo course for the monaco fans. but when a chevy is assembled in detroit, the best it can hope for is belching some smoke and getting a lap or two in at hesston before the hood falls off ::

:: took a much needed break from comp-prep to watch the t.war battle it out with their 305 sprint car at the hesston, pa dirt track. for $5 you can get yourself 2 hotdogs, a pepsi, and the best damn bag of peanuts you'll ever eat. but there are a few rules to going to a dirt track race, so review the list below before you venture to one ::

- DO NOT take credit cards, debit cards, or anything of the like... cash only! i made this mistake the first time i went, and i had to speak to a 400 lb chap named 'bubba' who exclaimed through only 3 or 4 teef 'we ain't got none of them round here.' had to drive 45 minutes to get to the closest atm.
- DO NOT eat the cheeseburgers. eat hot dogs. this is about the only time they are safer. the cheeseburgers are scraped off the bottom of the trailers at load in that afternoon.
- keep your mouth shut after the third lap or so. unless you like a mouthful of dirt.
- DO NOT wear nice jeans or a polo shirt. find the rattiest, greasiest thing you can. you'll still look like you just came from church.
- DO NOT make eye contact with the locals. if one does catch you eye acknowledge him with a grunted 'eh buddhay' and move away quickly.
- be prepared for some interesting 'plumbing' in the 'restrooms'.
- if you loose your car in the parking lot, just squat down. you'll quickly find your car under all the jacked pick-em-ups.
- wrecks are NOT cool. rubbing is.
- when in the pits, lend a hand ripping the dangling bumpers off during yellow flags.
- always root for the car with the most parts falling off.

:: Giving It All ::

2007-06-01T22:09:00.001-04:00

:: there is something about giving it all, leaving every bit of yourself on the tarmac. many might not understand the feeling of the adrenaline seeping into the nervous system, blood coursing through the veins, air rushing into the lungs, goose-bumps prickling the skin, sweat blurring the vision, and afterwards, the bone deep ache. ::

:: thursday night club time trial and hitting 185 bpm cresting the final hill. after a fitful nights sleep of endorphine withdrawl, it was time to abuse the body and mind some more with black mo. 4682 ft over 42 miles, which is more than enough to kill any rush you have going and leave you in a glazed-eye stupor. that is of course, unless you can muster the courage to make the final kick before home a goose-bump raising sprint... ::

:: Blue Ball - More Gravity Demons ::

2007-05-28T21:59:00.000-04:00

:: started the day with a rather patriotic breakfast in honor of memorial day. and then it was off to confront the gravity demons. been playing the the topo program alot lately, looking for challenging rides that avoid the usual tadpole/lime factory. the highlight of todays ride is a 3.5 mi 800 ft climb... on gravel, followed by a 2.5 mi 850 ft descent... on gravel. good times and i have to say i love the conti tyres. following a boring stretch chasing dump trucks down 64 swung by to see my favorite pup drey (a 9 week old swiss mountain dog) who was especially glad to see me. then axeman, fishermans paradise, and another gravel climb up barnes lane. 54 mi and 4378 ft gravity demon defeating climbing. ::

:: Half Way ::

2007-05-24T19:03:00.002-04:00

::
i find myself on a desolate road today,
once dual lane path, now only goes one way,
i find myself on a desolate road today,
why cant you meet me half way?
...
once excitedly traveled, now become routine,
you wont see this, its never from you to me.
a threshold to the this kindness that i bestow,
at that edge, unobservant, you’ll never know.
...
i can not chase this any longer,
i too, wish that I were stronger.
my energy is completely consumed,
excitement about us, already doomed.
...
time for me is a scarce commodity,
respect for that, a modicum of decency,
that you could show me in my time of need,
don’t take my friendship for granted, i plead.
...
remember when i was down, feeling awful low?
i explained myself, but still you didn’t know.
generosity taken for granted and battered,
i need a friend too, when i feel tattered.
...
respect my thoughts as i respect yours
not the center of my world, there must be more.
a smile while desperation continues to grow.
don’t want to steal the glory of your painful show.
...
i will not always be here, waiting for you to call,
i may not always be willing, to lift you when you fall.
an insult now to apologize,
your actions show such words as lies.
...
i find myself on a desolate road today,
once dual lane path, now only goes one way,
i find myself on a desolate road today,
why couldnt you have met me half way?
::

:: Union Grove Road Race ::

2007-05-20T12:54:00.000-04:00

:: i honestly can't believe i am wasting time blogging about this, but it goes to serve my point(s) that i am surrounded by monkeys (more on this in a future post). i've done my fair share of races, probably upwards of 150 (no wise cracks about how slow i still am), and i thought i had seen it all. i should have been tipped off when the only search for union grove road race on google turns up flyers from years past, and in bike reg it's labeled as 'union grove road race ?' as soon as i showed up, i began to understand the '?'. it's been my long-standing strategy to show up at least 60 minutes before my start time, get partially dressed, roll to registration get my number, and then warm up. simple, effective, and it's worked for the 150+ races i've done. but not this time. registration is divided up into 2 lines a-m, and n-z. not like the categories most promoters use. well, the n-z line is virtually empty, while the a-m line wraps around the side of the church. 426 pre-registered riders for 16 races, each of which has two each: spreadsheet, number pile, and release pile. so that's 64 piles of numbers/releases and two overwhelmed people trying to give them out, with two people standing behind them doing nothing as far as i can see. 8:58 with a 9:02 start and i'm still in line waiting. the officials call all the 9:00 starters to the front (but not the 9:02 starters - 6 races started within 3 minutes). then my race is called to the start line, but i'm still in the registration line. if it weren't for a 10 minute delay, i'd have been racing in my bluejeans. (side note, 2 porta-johns for 426 pre-registered riders and fans........ come on! this isn't your first race. you needed to get there 2 hours ahead if you wanted to both register and use the facilities.). i roll up to the line with sport beans in hand, 2 pins in my number, helmet unbuckled, sunglasses in my hand, and skewers still loose. i address the problems in decreasing importance, throwing my beans into the weeds (at the promoter) as we leave the line, and buckle the helmet AFTER the first hairy downhill. i should back up... the previous races started with a shot, and apparently they were out of ammo. we got a 'go' followed by a 'wait, no' followed by a 'ok, go slow' followed by an all out sprint off the line towards the ones that sprinted on the first 'go'. back to the story. after buckling my helmet on the flat, the joker in front of me drops his chain (shifting to the little ring at 30+ on a flat, i dunno). he fumbles unsuccessfully for several seconds to reclaim union of chain and ring as the pack bumps and splits to avoid him. a few minutes later, mass confusion as 75 riders (assuming afore mentioned goon had rejoined us) attempt to squeeze together over a 10ft wide bridge. which is then followed by the 14% kick into a nasty headwind. 2 more goons drop their chains (and fall) and a gap opens never to be closed. 3 determined solo bridge attempts, and a few more with a pace line, and within moments i'm looking at 197 on the hrm and decide to live to race another day, and back it down to 150 to get a healthy training ride in. within the next 5 minutes 6 (!) cars with yellow flashing lights pass (not caravan or sag vehicles, and i don't know their purpose). as i cross the line for the first lap, one of the yellow lighted vehicles is sideways across the road. next lap, there are 2 vehicles at the start finish line in a standoff trying to get back into the parking lot. add to the mix folks walking across to join the registration line, a few loose dogs, menonities all over the 10 foot wide roads with their steel wheeled tractors, gravel in the corners, open grate bridges... you get the idea. it was of no surprise to me the number of folks after the race throwing their $80 bib shorts into the trash. oh, and i forgot to mention... the officials didn't know how many laps we had to do (and since i missed the pre-race meeting, neither did i). so i just kept doing laps until the next race started. and then one more just to prove my point. if i had stopped when i thought i was supposed to, i would have spent more time in line registering than actually riding. post race discussions with some of the other participants and non-participants that knew better, said the other races were equally chaotic - such as dropping a lap from the women's race without even telling them?!?. in short, i've crossed off all pro-am sponsored races for this year and next. unless of course, i can figure out a way to both register and use the facilities in under an hour. ::

:: ReLaX ::

2007-05-17T09:28:00.000-04:00

:: 'i tried to relax, but it felt like a waste of time.' in disbelief, i uttered those words to pop on the phone last night. a waste of time to relax, what has my life come to? yesterday was a milestone submitting my first peer reviewed paper (yawn), and i probably should be amped about taking a few days off, going for a leisurely ride, etc.. but i can't. comps are coming, i have ideas for another paper, i have to learn to code in LaTeX, the house needs to be cleaned, i have to clean the fish tank... i did take a break and go to the movies with dieter, and thankfully it was super scary. at one point i was thinking about references for aforementioned paper and realized i missed one. thankfully, super scary zombie guy jumps out and i was able for a moment to forget. but it was hardly relaxing. workaholic grad student is redundant. ::

:: Court Date ::

2007-04-07T16:23:00.000-04:00

:: first time trial of the year, it's 41 degrees with 50% change of severe thunderstorms which precludes wearing the sausage-suit and it's on april fool's day. how appropriate. a brief run down of my first official battle with the clock in '07. ::

4:45 am - alarm
4:53 am - alarm
5:01 am - alarm
5:09 am - shower
5:21 am - in the car, eta: 7:44 am - registration closes at 7:45
5:35 am - inebriated hillybilly in pickemp truck tries to ram me
5:37 am - hiding on dirt farm-road from inebriated hillybilly
6:56 am - registering
8:08:30 am - expected start
8:21:30 am - actual start
8:21:35 am - hr is 185 and tasting vanilla gu and sport beans
8:29:21 am - pass 5km mark & mental math reveals 16s off 40k/hour pace
8:29:30 am - fairly certain any faster and i might die
8:31:45 am - pass a giant pink easter bunny
8:37:25 am - jmiller, who started 3 minutes back, blows my doors off
8:37:30 am - 1 minute off 40k/hour @ 10k
8:39:00 am - see my 30 second man, and pick up the pace
8:40:00 am - catch 30 second man - actually an amish girl going to church
8:53:15 am - 2:15 off 40k/hour pace at 20k turn around
8:53:45 am - stomach rumbles and see spots
8:54:05 am - drop carboom! and am in the cinders during a botched feed attempt
8:54:15 am - in small ring despite going down hill
8:55:30 am - notice the nasty headwind
8:55-9:20 am - no recollection of anything
9:20:15 am - giant pink bunny makes me giggle
9:25:45 am - realize that aero helmets are claustrophobic
9:29:33 am - finish - 40km in 68:03, 21.93 mph average
12:45 am - nap

:: Good Enough To Eat ::

2007-03-30T21:08:00.000-04:00

:: this tree caught my eye on the ride today. it's apparently the favorite joint for the local woodpeckers, and the thought crossed my mind it might be tastier than the stiff-bar i'd been working on since i left the house. please pass the salt... ::

:: Gravity Demons ::

2007-03-25T22:43:00.001-04:00

:: after loosing the game of phone tag this morning with dieter, i struck out on my own for an adventure aboard the new steed. i was secretly relieved after a fitful night worring about bonking, being dropped, or worse yet, having to be waiten for. we'd originally planned to do some climbing, and i was nervous. while wolfing down some faccia luna pizza with the rakkit-brawl crew the other day, i had proclaimed 'i'm so fat, i'm going to go on 2 diets.' i was only half kidding. grad school has not been kind to both my mind and waist line the last few months. so back to the story, i was relieved when i was let off the hook for a day of climbing... flats with diets are bad enough. as i headed out of town it seems that my mind was conspiring with my legs and i didn't even notice the jullian pike sign. feeling a nagging, i made a u-turn and headed away from the flat ride. my body and mind were begging to escape the punishment, but i knew it had to be done.

black mo and the back injury ruined my will to ride last year, and it was time to face the gravity demons that were lurking in the back of my mind. i figure if i can make it today this early in the season, there will be no reason to fear them again. as julian kicked, the pvd jt remix started playing and my cadence quickened. as i lowered the jersey zipper, i almost raised lunch, and decided to back off a touch. eventually the top of the climb was in sight. 'welcome to moshannon', 'it's been awhile' seemed to be implied. the reservoir was still ice covered, and the air chilled to the bone. the views as always didn't disappoint. the descent down the 1500+ foot drop around loose gravel switchbacks left a smile on my face that took hours to fade. not even bonking on the final climb could wipe it away. i saw the man with the hammer, and laughed him off, digging deep into the energy reserves. no records were set today, but i no longer have to fear the gravity demons this season. ::

:: Carbon ::

2007-03-23T10:13:00.000-04:00

:: ...carbon carbon carbon titanium carbon carbon carbon... ::

:: Anticipation ::

2007-03-21T18:52:00.000-04:00

:: she has arrived, snuggled safely (i hope) in the bicycle shop basement still in it's shipping box. i haven't opened it yet; saving the glory for tomorrow. gives me something to get out of bed for in the morning. any ideas for a good feminine name? ::

:: Fudge Update '07 ::

2007-03-20T21:33:00.000-04:00

:: the mc.chump fudge shoppe has been working overtime producing this years batch of the infamous irish cream wiskey fudge, a recipe that has been handed down from my grand-pappy, and slightly modified by plump.chump hisself. three batches were made this year in rapid succession. batch #1 turned out excellent. batch #2 however, was a little off due primarily in part to the sampling of batch #1. upon much more careful measurements (and several glasses of water to sober up) batch #3 was also a success. after warning our staff assistant that 1) it was stronger than usual, and 2) it might be a bit soft at room temperature due to 1), she said "i don't care if i have to eat it with a spoon, don't change a thing next year..." dieter: "yum!" mum mc.chump, who moonlights as a tea-totaler, commented "it's delicious! strong, but delicious!" pop mc.chump was too busy fighting mum mc.chump to comment. ::

:: Another One ::

2007-03-18T02:42:00.000-04:00

:: ... bites the dust. another big news email today; my roommate and best friend from undergrad is tying the knot this summer. that's the second one this week... the other being my only classmate from undergrad. and the third one this month... my training partner from undergrad. if you count the two this past fall that makes five. and two babies. and i can honestly say i am happy for all of them. but i find it ironic that exactly two years ago today, sitting in the same place even, i got news that wasn't nearly as pleasant and is probably the reason it will be a long while before i have good news to share of the caliber like alot of my friends are having lately. don't get me wrong, i have a fantastic relationship with inanimate things... bicycles, my motorcycle and car, and matlab (at least occasionally anyway). the last thing i wast to do is detract from their joy; i just hope someday i'll feel like i can open up and have similar news to share. just don't hold your breath. ::

:: It's On ::

2007-03-14T13:44:00.000-04:00

:: monday am sitting at 'work' the back was twinging, and thoughts of another season over before it started crept in. since productivity was exceptionally low anyway, i phoned the shop and scheduled a fitting. g-man quickly noticed a 1.5cm hip imbalance, and coupled with low knees and high hips, the fitting took alot longer than either of us expected. after flipping the stem for a wicked rise, tweaking fore aft position, cleat placement, and adding a shojo sized saddle, i was off. aside from feeling like i was 11ft tall and being wary of corners, i felt like a new cyclist. for the first time in almost 9 months no twinge. generally after a ride it feels like there's been a parade of elephants across my back, but now it's like i've been to the spa. tuesday am we tweaked the tt position, and thankfully for my ego it doesn't look like my walmart inspired road bike. on the way home i was about to hit some construction when the flagger flipped the sign, smiled and waved. i shifted into 55x11 and put my head down and thought, it's on. ::

:: now i just have to }squeeze{ into my skinsuit... ::

:: Rakkit Bump ::

2007-03-05T23:46:00.000-04:00

:: rough day for the chumpster today was. first at the work game, and then on the courts. i should have known better... when my head isn't in it it's never pretty. a few games ago chumpster almost got knocked out when the wall ran into him. just when i thought the bruises and bumps both physical and mental were fading and gebnor was making cameos once in awhile, wham! thankfully the court survived to brawl another day. now to ease my bumps with some ice(cream) ::

impressive, eh?

:: No Athlete ::

2007-02-19T16:35:00.000-04:00

:: i am no athlete... any reader of fluxvapor knows as much after viewing the statistics of my recent return from rakkitbrawl retirement. irish sweater recently dropped me a line accusing me of playing against an imaginary friend because i had scored 3 (!) wins (in about 300 career games, which gives me a 0.01 +- 0.01 batting average). the sweater knows because he was my abuser back in the b-more before i met the dieter. anyways, i've recently been trying to get serious about the upcoming season, organize my goals and the like. the only conclusion i've come to is that i am no athlete. thinking back on my triumphs in the athletic venue only confirms one thing. i have a good shot of being spectacular compared to my competition if no-one shows up... usually anyway. a few examples to ponder: in little league soccer, i was the coaches first pick for goalie until the new kid who's brother was a pro-goalie for the cleveland crunch showed up. in high school i made the varsity lacrosse squad as a freshman. little did i know my position was defensive tackling dummy, and it was the first year of the team so there was no junior varsity for me to bench-warm... and as for cycling, i liked the time trial. used to do this series in maryland and have a few trophies from that: 1st place in the 19-23 age category with no-one winning 2nd or 3rd. cyclo-cross, i won a race when the feller ahead of me though he was done 5 ft from the actual finish and was already off his bike. i blew past like a *blur* and almost ended up in the pond. and in any state champs, if 10 people show up and 5 of them are from nj or md, i might be able to snag one of the 5 medals, on a good day, if i've been training like a dog. it's recently come to my attention that i might be no scientist either. i spent about 2 months developing a numerical simulation that takes a several hours to run. two weeks ago another feller in my group gave me two lines of code that show the same thing based on his analytic solution (thankfully his brother does not also play for the crunch). so in all respects, i'm fairly impressive. so long as there isn't anyone around to impress... ::

:: Gebnor returns ::

2007-02-12T01:52:00.000-04:00

:: overcoming your inner sho_jo... after failing to make an appearance the last few games, gebnor has returned! it seems also, that for the first time in the history of the sho_jo/dieter/gebnor battle, dieter scored an unprecedented low of only 7 (!) points. this miserable score is denoted by the red arrow pointing to game 34. (side note to the dieter fans... the majority of games where sho_jo scored zero or less points have been omitted. however, sho_jo's average score continues to rise). congratulations to gebnor who is perfecting his blistering ace serve. thanks to dieter for capturing such a serve on film, a feat in and of itself!

:: Victory is (was) mine ::

2007-02-09T03:49:00.000-04:00

:: special thanks to dieter for providing the stellar photography above. it's more he was sobbing rather than i was moving too quickly that caused the blurring. you see, i had just repressed the shojo and allowed the gebnor vander-vandecouter to take my place on the rakkitbawl court. it was a quite a trouncing - 17 gebnor, 15 dieter. but have no fear, gebor was quickly beaten back into submission by the dieter and has yet to make another appearance. even second game beginners are beating shojo in true plumpchump fashion. this was the first, and probably last, game of rakkit that i have ever won. it dates way back to the days of playing in the baltimore always the rakkitbridesmaid, never the rakkitbride. doing a statistical analysis of the recent performances, it is revealed shojo has a 2.8966 mean score, 2 median score, and a standard deviation of 2.2732. for the lay-folks out there, that means that 68% of the time i will score somewhere bewteen 0.6234 and 5.1698 (assuming my scores are normally distributed, with no skewness). plot coutesy of matlab (best buy has my camera for 8 weeks to diagnose if there is something wrong or not... the 'geek squad' couldn't tell. so you're going to get some matlab plots and stolen pics for awhile). ::

:: In A Little While ::

2007-02-06T01:23:00.000-04:00

::
in a little while, surely you'll be mine, in a little while i'll be there
in a little while, this hurt will hurt no more, i'll be home, love
when the night takes a deep breath, and the daylight has no end
if i crawl, if i come crawling home, will you be there?
in a little while, i won't be blown by every breeze
friday night running, to sunday on my knees
...
a man dreams one day to fly
a man takes a rocketship into the skies
he lives on star that's dying in the night
and follows in the trail, the scatter of light
...
slow down my bleeding heart
::
~U2

:: Goundhog Day ::

2007-02-02T12:40:00.000-04:00

:: straight from the prognosticating whistle pig of gobbler's knob... spring is on it's way! ::

:: Racquetball with Dieter ::

2007-01-19T15:36:00.000-04:00

:: tis the off-season, and all through the house,
i'm not riding, not even to visit with my grouse.
the bikes are nestled in the basement with care,
with deams of fresh asphalt and weather that is fair.
when i'm asleep, all snug in my bed,
visions of the pave, dance in my head.
i've put away the jerseys and my cycling caps,
it's a fine time of year to take lots of naps.
when on my cell phone there arose such a clatter,
i answer it quick to see what was the matter.
when what to my wondering ear should appear,
but dieter saying that racquetball is near.
he springs about the court so lively and quick,
that plump chump and sho jo begin to feel sick.
more rapid than eagles the volleys they came,
he laughed and he giggled and then called me names.
one bounce off the floor just after the wall,
straining, panting, and gasping, - onto the ground i fall.
i try not to cry, i try not to care,
but this silly game just doesn't seem fair.
dieter's eyes how they twinkle, his dimples how merry,
his cheeks are like roses, his nose like a cherry.
me i have a broad waist and a little round belly,
that shakes when i run like a bowl full of jelly.
with a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
know that failure was near, and i begin to dread.
and while laying his finger aside of his nose,
scored the match point and danced on his toes.
and i heard him exclaim as he rode out of sight,
eat a salad plump chump, no burgers tonight! ::

:: New Year ::

2007-01-10T22:04:00.000-04:00

:: i will not resolve to start this year better than the last. nor will i resolve to lose some weight and get in shape (any shape other than pear that is). i'm not planning to finish the phd. i won't try to be a better person or eat healthier. i'm not hoping to cat up this season, or win the state time trial. i'm not going to try and do anything different. maybe this way i won't be disappointed when it doesn't happen. ::

:: went to the gym today for the beginning of the pre-season lifting. in my mind i was trying to recount all the things that kept me from having the season i wanted to last year. it seems it was over as soon as it started, and it all took me by surprise. during my warm up i decided that the main failure of last season was the extreme of the ups and downs, and the lack of consistency. i was gun-ho for the rest of the work out up to the shoulder press, my weakest exercise - i had 25lbs on each arm and was straining. between sets the beefcake next to me grunted 'er, i er, took some of the plates off your machine. er, sorry...' at this point i noticed a blister on my hand. perhaps i should take the rest of the week off. ::

:: Merry Christmas ::

2006-12-24T15:37:00.000-04:00

:: merry christmas! ::

:: Companion ::

2006-12-16T01:35:00.000-04:00

:: hello dear friend. it's been some time since our last rendevouz. i have missed your company. even though you don't ask, i feel the need to justify by recent absence. it is of no matter to you; you've been so patient with me; if only i could be as patient with myself. hurry here, hurry there. no time for my one truly precious friend. but now we are together at last, sharing intimate time with no distractions. i speak of my worries through labored breaths but they fall on deaf ears. it's for the best, i don't need them anyway. it's not rude, this selective hearing of yours: you choose to hear the sounds of beauty and peace which i am too troubled to notice. as i become mute following your lead the silence shouts of serenity. how can a soul be filled with such chaos, and just outside the skin tranquility surrounds? it is a mystery as profound as how an inanimate object can fulfill my longing for a loyal companion. ::

:: Geeks in Paradise ::

2006-12-05T01:18:00.000-04:00

:: aloha blog fans! i'm so sorry for the delinquency of my posting of late, but i have been suffering through life in waikiki for a conference. as i sit here typing this much overdue update i am looking at the sunset over the south pacific, eating a hawaiian pizza with pineapples that were picked this morning, and listening to some hula music with a fruity umbrella drink. it's dropped to 86 and i am freezing! but don't feel sorry for me friends, in 3.5 hours i will be boarding a plane to return to beautiful buffalo and will be glad to be able to make snow angels tomorrow night... anywhos, on to the post! i've learned some things this past week: scientists and the tropics go together like chocolate and pickles. i'm not sure where along the way to a phd that you take the phasion for phds, but i think i missed it. it is quite a site to see the talks end for the day and within minutes my colleagues are headed for the beach... in the worst possible attire. they've shed their lab coats, but i think to save humiliation they should keep them. donning the brightest and tackiest aloha shirts (tacky aloha shirt is redundant, i realize, but those chosen by the science community are especially tacky) with slide rules and calculators in the chest pockets, teva sandals, knee high socks (!) shorty shorts hiked up to the point of resembling steve urkle, and a half quart each of zinc oxide on their noses. after 20 minutes on the beach they return to the conference (still in their tevas, urkel shorts, and tacky-tastic aloha shirts) looking like a freshly boiled maine lobster (aside from their snow white noses thanks to the zno). perhaps that the smarter one gets the less they feel the need to impress. i don't claim to be a fashionista, but i do think that perhaps someone should publish a peer-review article on proper tropical attire before they allow geeks in paradise. ::

:: Death Day ::

2006-11-18T16:21:00.000-04:00

:: today is not about fitness. nor is it about speed. it is not about the numbers; i do not care about calories burned or average heart rate. i will not critique my fitness, technique, or form in my mind. resisting tempatation, i remain calm so as to soak it all in; figure out what it all means. under my jacket i wear the same jersey i had on that pivotal day 6 years ago, which usually hangs in a hallowed place in my closet. i can feel it there. i feel the scar on my scalp under my helmet. i remember the way the forest looked and smelled and felt. i remember the deer and i wonder if he knows the chain of events that his presence set in motion. like a signpost along the road of life, he marks the beginning of a new direction. at first it seemed like a detour, an inconvience. and at an especially inconvient time. but such are death days. i fear that if i hadn't been taken so low, i would not have understood the meaning of the climb back up. and so today is a somber celebration. ::

:: Yellow Line ::

2006-11-16T14:37:00.000-04:00

:: 8:27 am 38 deg f. the overnight downpour has subsided to a drizzle and a heavy fog has descended on the slumbering valley. astride the fixed gear and heading for the mountains, it's time to punish my body and refresh my soul after the lackluster performances of late; heading out of town hoping to escape both the fog and the feeling of disappointment. instead it seems to close in with each mile. the vibrant colors a few weeks ago are all gone save one: the vibrant yellow line i am chasing into the mist. unzipping my jacket, i pause for a moment and steam pours off my chest instantly merging with the other surrounding vapors. the yellow line hangs before me like a cord dangling from the heavens begging to be ascended. the fog continues to thicken with each revolution and quite soon the only definite shapes are the jagged line of dead leaves to the right and the yellow line to the left; and both disappear just paces ahead. for a few moments it feels that this is my yellow line: i don't have to share it with anyone. it's only expectation of me is to continue my quest upwards. following this line with lead me home safely i'm sure, but not before first forcing me to confront apprehensions hiding in the corners of my mind. my yellow line leads me to freedom, but only a few feet at a time. my legs struggle with the resistance of the grade. my mind struggles with the idea of turning back. my eyes struggle with vision of the road ahead, and i must trust that each forward movement will reveal a bit more. my yellow line rounds a corner and disappears into the fog... ... and so do i... ::

:: Express Lane ::

2006-11-10T19:05:00.000-04:00

:: or should i say 'alleged' express lane. a recent trip to weggies was prompted by a need for some essential food items: bread, milk, milano cookies... a quick in and out and i would be feasting on my recent acquisitions in no-time. i took stock of the situation at the check out. at the far end like a mirage in the desert, an almost vacant express lane. quickly counting the items in my basket i found i was one over, and put back a pack of milanos (have no fear, i still had 2 more in my basket). as i approached the checkout nirvana, i spotted an older gentleman in one of those powered shopping scooters and i could sense he was heading for my lane. in an instant our gazes locked; stopped dead in our tracks, watching each others move. something out of a western, i half expected tumble weed to blow across weggies grand concourse. mothers pulled their children back into the safety of the aisles while stock boys cowered in fear. i'm not sure who made the first draw in this shopping dual to the death but we were off like a shot. his rubber wheels leaving black streaks while the electric motors howled. it was either my athletic prowess or my three wheeled dualer missing his shift into fourth, but i was gaining and i could taste the victory of a speedy checkout. having been beaten he swerved his supermarket go!kart and took the lane next to me nearly upsetting the apple stand in the process. i set my basket on the floor and leaned on my knees to catch my breath. out of the corner of my eye, i could see the belt was piled high. not 7 or 8, but twenty, perhaps thirty items. most were un-coded produce... the clerk searching the cheat sheet, each one getting their own turn on the scale. i heard the elderly man next to me snickering as he was already getting his food scanned. ahead there was fumbling for the club card. the political corrector in me thought that now would be an excellent time to teach the child in the cart how to count. perhaps he could then explain to his mother that 30 is greater than 7. significantly greater. then there was a request to use a check, and upon remembering the coupons, she fished them out of her pocket, uncrumpled them smoothing each on the counter and picking at the pocket lint. at this point geezer was already on his way. as i left the store i looked for a moral in this newest life lesson - express lane it is not. ::

:: Warmth ::

2006-11-07T16:31:00.000-04:00

:: there are very few things that can give more warmth on a grey rainy day than a venti white mocha from *bucks. except maybe buying a cuddly pooh bear for a friends' very early arrival. i got the call late saturday night, and having never been close to the process before, i was fairly anxious with anticipation of meeting my new pal. i wasn't quite prepared, so thankfully target was still open and had a fantastic plush winnie the pooh bear for a last minute purchase. i rushed through the next days activies finding it hard to concentrate, and even harder to put forth the usual enthusiasm (funny because i had one of the better races of the season). not bothering to wait around for the official results i was off; a mission to accomplish. traffic seemed to be moving exceptionally slow as i headed to the hospital. i had only hoped to see my friends, wish them congratulations, and deliver the pooh bear. i was amazed i would be allowed into the nicu! i took extra care scrubbing in, and donned the yellow apron. my little pal was at the end of the row; some of his neighbors had parents watching over them, and my heart sank for others that were left alone. i was able to spend almost 2 hours with my new buddy, who didn't do much more than eat and sleep, and occasionally fell asleep while eating - the simple life of a newborn. at one point between the business of eating and sleeping, his little hand wrapped around my finger and he squeezed with all his strength and opened his eyes as if to thank me for bringing a bear to keep him company. the look brought a warmth that i hope never to forget. ::

:: Fun Size ::

2006-11-04T17:16:00.000-04:00

:: is no-one enforcing the truth in labeling laws anymore? case and point: the snickers 'fun size' candy bar. i have yet to find anything 'fun' about this size. i dare say this sorry excuse for a treat is the antithesis of 'fun'. 9 times out of 10 while fumbling and straining with the tiny package, the minuscule morsel of goodness shoots across the room, bouncing off the wall, the lamp, and then under the couch. on your hands and knees as much out of hunger as to facilitate the search, you fish it out from it's final resting place and battle the dust bunny that has already begun nibbling on your chocolate coated caramel encapsulated peanut packed indulgence. you pop it in your mouth and chew ferociously. unsatisfied, you grab a second. third. tenth. before you know it, you are nearly buried alive in wrappers which makes me think they should change the slogan to 'hungry? don't grab a 'fun size!''. take action political correctors!!! the real 'fun size' is the $1.19 corner minit mart monster affectionately referred to as 'the big one' (or 'king size' to the outsiders). this massively robust bulk of scrumptious gratification is worthy to be bequeathed with the moniker of 'fun size'. ...while the emaciated variety is relinquished to 'why bother?' ::

:: Nite Ride ::

2006-11-03T03:31:00.000-04:00

:: daylight is slipping away i log out and heed the call of the ride. there is a briskness in the air that warns to enjoy every moment that is left before winter. the once familiar trail has been turned into something new as the shadows grow long and leaves hide the ground. how well do i remember this trail that i've been down so many times? intuition takes over and my trusty steed hops over obstacles and weaves between unseen puddles as if out of my control: i am the autopilot. it becomes inevitable and i have to use the high intensity discharge. suddenly all color is lost in it's garish blue grey glow. things alive seem lifeless, but the beings of my mind are animated. the bushes have arms that reach out and tap my legs. i quicken the pace feeling something following me, but the only thing behind me are the worries of the day. i quicken the pace. i ride first under and then next to and then above the highway. i feel free, not being bound by the tarmac. approaching the home of mr. grouse, i mute the light and soften the tempo, hoping not to disturb his slumber. reaching the halfway point i am faced with an option - head straight home or turn for more. before i realize, i've found the branch in the darkness and am heading down it. a steep rise in the trail is unfamiliar, but i am glad for chance to dig deep. the woods open to a field, and my presence startles a deer drinking at a pool in the moonlight. my blowtorch illuminates only his eyes as he peers back at me. then it happens - snakebite. a familiar sound and feeling as the life hisses out of the tyre, giving me pause to gaze at the stars. within a few minutes i am moving again and soon after i am rounding the final corner towards home. neighbors are cooking dinner, school children are doing math problems and practicing their piano lessons. chill is setting in and hunger is brewing, but i don't envy their warmth or comfort. the sun does not mean to slight us by leaving early this time of year. it means only force us to view things in a different light. ::

:: Skurd? ::

2006-10-31T10:50:00.000-04:00

Happy Halloween!!!

:: Daylight Savings ::

2006-10-30T10:40:00.000-04:00

:: an old indian saying meaning 'confuse the foreigners and make them learn to program their vcr'. doesn't this seem strange to anyone else? i understand why it was started - so we could tend to our gardens and feed the family. but how many of us garden anymore? and wegmans doesn't close, ever. wouldn't it just be easier to go into work an hour earlier in the summer so we could enjoy some daylight afterwards? do we really think 'it's only 8am, i can't start checking my email until 9'? i once heard someone say it's like cutting the bottom off your blanket and sewing it back to the top in the spring. then in the fall you cut that top off and sew it back on the bottom. ridiculous. but maybe the indians were right: i do need to dust off the manual for my vcr and learn to program it. (just don't tell them i have one that sets automatically! aha!) ::

:: Perspective ::

2006-10-28T12:22:00.000-04:00

:: a good many years ago i remember in science class learning about 'frame of reference'. it's really just the idea of how perspective applies to observations. a simple example is for us, it feels as if the earth is a solid non-moving mass (just the life on it is whizzing by). in reality, the earth is rotating about itself, the sun, the milky way, and so on. to the point that it could be moving at thousands of miles an hour or more. so back to the story already in progress: every weekend the usual suspects gather to throw the gauntlet. it's always intended to be in good fun, but we all take the preparation very seriously and when things get cattywhompus in the hour of power it ends up affecting us pretty severely in the following week. each day we are away we plot and plan and struggle with our inner-self, reliving each second on the hour and analyzing. there's a screening party in our minds and siskel and ebert are giving two thumbs down (each). such was this week. personally i was frustrated over loosing the tyre which, for this week at least, i blame for missing the top50 placing i had been hoping for. another of my endorphine craving cohorts was not fairing even as well as i in the cinema of the mind. we gathered around him in word and spirit trying to revive his passion because we see true genius. this was the week: licking our wounds and helping pals bandage theirs. and then it hits. the moment when the frame of reference for life is shifted, skewed, twisted, and warped. suddenly things are in the proper perspective: one of our gang has been diagnosed with lung cancer. that vile creature that has taken the life from, or out of, someone that we all know. and as it sometimes does, from a person with a clean life, embracing every day. someone who never saw it coming. we gather together this weekend not to improve ourselves but to lift our comrade. come monday, let's screen a different movie. ::

:: Dr. FeelGood ::

2006-10-23T12:42:00.000-04:00

:: i finally found the secret to feeling ok about life. of course i find the same thing almost every time i swing my leg over the top tube. it's amazing how short my memory is when it comes to this. things begin to pile up in life's inbox and a crushing feeling is overtaking my soul. "you can't possibly take time today to relax; there is too much to do and not enough time" i hear my inner voice saying. but there is a draw. 8am and the sun is shining. air is crisp. leaves are hundreds of colors - like a masters painting begging to be experienced. turning my head to ignore the inbox as i pass. it's only moments before a rush of endorphines are coursing through the veins. a twinkle appears behind the sleep sand still in my eyes; like that of a child on christmas morning. today the squirrels are busy collecting the final stores before winter. the juxtaposition of blue jays against the goldens and greens. a visit from the friendly ruffed grouse who asks me why it's been so long since my last visit. he's changed so much in the few weeks since our last meeting - looks much more mature but still has an inquisitive innocence that makes me envy his existence. after a hearty lunch i return my attention to the life inbox and begin to plug away. it seems no less insurmountable as it did a few hours before, but it's importance is now diluted. will i remember my secret tomorrow? mr. grouse, please pray that i do ::