re-toe-in

Mindful Mule has been squeaking a lot lately, again. This is great when you’re about to get doored and you slam on the brakes to let out a blood curdling squeal in order to politely inform the driver to shut their damn door, but mostly it’s a little annoying.

So, I re-toed the pads and was very lucky (or skilled) in the process as I nailed it on the first try – front and back – no hassle at all. Finished in record time – probably like twenty minutes – hardly even got my hands that greasy.

I’ve only tested them out on my super steep driveway with no helmet as is my strange tradition, but they were quiet and buttery all the way down. Hopefully they’ll stop me in normal street braking, too. Also, hope there’s not another post upcoming to tell you about how I had to readjust, again, as is often the case.

15 days ‘til Le Tour!

Tour Divide has started!

I love following this race. It’s an off road bike race/ride from Canada to Mexico along the Continental/Great Divide (Rockies). Self supported for the burliest of the burly. Epic doesn’t even come close to describing it.

Geoff isn’t in it this year. Neither is Jill. So I’m routing for Cricket! Chirp!

Take a listen.

S.R.T. Jogging

I don’t know what I’ve been doing lately but I haven’t been running. A couple days ago I went for the longest run I’ve done in a month, still only 9.5 miles. It was also the first time I’d been down in the Arroyo in that same time period. During that month there was a trickle of some 3-milers and the Mt Wilson race.

I have the excuse that I was sick for a while, but I’ve been pretty okay for a couple weeks now. I think it’s just always hard to get back on the running train when you’ve been off it for a while. Somehow your mind and body stop comprehending the point of running, especially for longer distances.

Once I got out there on the run in the Arroyo everything fell back into place pretty quickly and I end up running farther than planned. So that’s good. Maybe I’m back.

While I was out there I was thinking about the distinction between running and jogging. I’m not sure there’s really much of a difference. In general people probably think jogging is slower than running: J < R. It seems silly to base it on a rate of speed, for example: J < 6.5mph < R.

Back in the old days, when I was a kid, we called it jogging. Jogging meant you wake up at 6am, put on a sweat suit, and jog for 3 miles. If you were a jogger, you did this every day. Or maybe just once a week. I don’t know. Like I said, I was just a kid. I tried jogging a few times.

At some point in the 80’s, I’m guessing that someone at some company (Nike) realized that there was an incredible marketing opportunity associated with the hobby of jogging. “If we just change the name to running,” they said, “we’ll sell a million more shoes!” And so the hobby of jogging became the sport of running. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

As an example of the possible sense that the above made up story makes, consider for a moment the idea of trail jogging. It would never fly. Sounds stupid, they probably thought. But trail running, aha! Now we’ve got something. Now we’ve got a sport, something respectable.

Personally, I’m starting to like the sound of jogging. There’s not so much pressure. Joggers don’t need a stopwatch. Joggers can stop to say hello to people they encounter along the way. Joggers don’t have to replace their shoes every 300 miles – they can wait ‘til a thousand or whenever they feel like it or whenever they go on sale or fall apart.

So, what’s S.R.T. Jogging? It’s my new name for an old hobby: Sidewalk, Road, and Trail Jogging. For me, every jog starts on the sidewalk, then takes to the road, then if it’s a longer jog it takes to the trail. Most of the time (for me) it’s not really trail jogging in the sense that trail running implies, where you’re out on a goat trail racing up to the rocky outcrop at the peak of some fog enshrouded mystical peak; it’s just me down in the Arroyo cruising along with dirt under my feet passing by cool native plants like sage and sycamore and oak and toyon.

Chantry Flats Ride

Just got back from a new mountainy road ride that was really pretty nice. I took Masi (aka the Purple People Eater) up to Chantry Flats which is one of those old timey camp places up in the San Gabriel’s above Arcadia/Sierra Madre.

I’ve been up there before but not for a long time. I was probably up there as a kid for school hikes or something. The last time I was up there was when Mindful Mule was shiny and new back in maybe about 1995. Me and a couple friends drove our bikes up there and cruised around on some trails.

I’m not sure why I haven’t thought about it for the last 15 years. A few months ago while I was riding Totally 80’s on the Vintage Ride a flash of light caught my eye from up in the mountains. It looked like the reflection off a windshield but I couldn’t think of any roads that would be up there. It was way off in the distance on a hazy day so I couldn’t see very well to confirm.

Later that day, though, I checked out the map and it looked like there was a road heading up in them thar hills and wouldn’t ya know it led right up to Chantry Flats.

Fast forward to this morning. I rode up that road. It was a little steeper and longer than I expected/remembered, but it’s a great little mountain road and even has some fresh pavements sections.

There were tons of people up there. I had no idea it was such a destination. There must have been a hundred cars parked up there. Unbelievable! Great to see people out hiking and biking and picnicking and such, though. I guess Chantry is somewhat rare in that it’s pretty close to town and accessible by car and yet it really feels like you’re deep in the mountains.

The descent was awesome. Narrow road, tight turns, steep, and well paved. A classic, really. I got stuck behind some cars so I couldn’t let it all out but that’s probably better/safer on a first descent anyway.

“multimedia message”

A long, long time ago I told Shawn I’d send him a photo of a hillside filled with cactus. So here it is with stolen title (which, I think I finally get!) As you can see, it’s a horrible picture – taken with a phomera from a moving car – on the 101 just south of Camarillo – Conejo Pass, I believe.

“the mountain wins again”

The Mount Wilson Trail Race was yesterday in Sierra Madre. As always, it was a great event with lots of community involvement and familiar faces and food and drink and beautiful weather… and one big mountain to climb.

The day started off early riding east down Huntington, racing the sunrise over the mountains. That was actually a really nice part of the day. Totally empty and cool. Just me and Mindful Mule spinning along quietly, making our way to the start.

The field in this year’s race seemed to be a lot more spread out than normal or maybe I was just running in a lucky gap, but I had very few people around me for much of the race.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t take advantage of the extra space to move forward for a better time. I just couldn’t get myself together on this one. On the way up, I spent a lot of time at redline. And on the way down, where I can normally make up a lot of time, I was pretty tentative about my footing – probably a sign of old age. I kept saying to myself, just live to run another day. I really couldn’t be bothered to risk anything for a better time stamp: 1:43.

I don’t know what it is about that mountain but I can never seem to master it. The mountain will always win. I wouldn’t have it any other way, but hopefully circumstances and training will align for a slightly smoother run next year. I can hardly wait…

totally unprepared

The Mount Wilson run is tomorrow. I haven’t prepared at all in terms of training or resting or eating or anything. Hardly anyone I know is running it this year. Hopefully The Reverend will be there so we can go to the beer garden afterward. And maybe at least some familiar faces.

I’m not expecting much from myself for this run. My running pretty much dropped off the face of the earth after May 6th. Since then I’ve only run a few 3s. I’ve been sick and tired.

But I’m already signed up and it is a nice local tradition. So I’ll drag myself to the start in the morning and everything will probably be just fine.

one glove dream

I had a dream last night about bicycling. That’s not really news worthy. I dream about biking pretty much all the time these nights. Oh, wait, now that I’m digging into my subconscious, I ‘m remembering another biking dream from last night, too. See what I mean? Ho hum – do it all day, dream it all night.

In the first dream I was riding at night and it was somewhat cool. That’s how it’s been lately. It may sound surprising to those living in cooler climes, but I’m just now able to get rid of some of my warm layers on night rides home.

That’s not to say that I couldn’t, or haven’t, ridden home at night in shorts and a T, but there is a certain cozy factor that feels really nice right now. Maybe I’m in denial about the approaching heat wave, aka summer. Last night, in the non-dream world, what do you call that, “reality,” I rode back down the hill in jeans, double rolled on both sides, T, open flannel, and wool cap. I could have made it home without freezing to death in far, far less, of course, but like I said, it feels nice to cruise home easy down the hill, no chill, over-shirttails flapping behind, a burrito in the basket.

So, anyway, the dream. I was riding and I had one glove on and I was thinking, I wish I’d brought both gloves because this left hand feels cozy and nice.

And in the other dream I was riding Totally 80’s (eighty-eight Centurion, steel road bike with seven-speed downtube shifters) on a golf course. There were a couple other people riding with me, up ahead – I couldn’t quite catch up to them, of course, but it was an awesome ride along the cart paths and up against the banked mounds for the tees and greens. The grass was cut real short so we could pretty much ride wherever we wanted. There weren’t more than a couple golfers out to get in the way of. But then we came upon some equestrians so we had to dismount and follow the “bikes yield to hikers and horses” trail rules.

The toe clip straps on T80’s seemed to be those from the fixie (seventies Schwinn Supper Sport single speed, SSSSSS). They’ve got color to match the fixie, sort of a honey gold to compliment both the brown paint and natural sidewalls. I think, my subconscious wants me to get some matching blue toe clip straps for Totally 80’s blue-splashed front and rear frame and bar tape.

Plus. I think golf courses could be used for much more than golf. Many of them would make great parks. I’d also like to see more courses using a diversity of plant material, native to the area, rather than just endless blades of grass.

“They call me Mimi”

In memory of the sweetest little terror of a kitty.
(With help from James Taylor, Guns N’ Roses, and The Grateful Dead)

“Just yesterday morning
They let me know you were gone…
I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I’d see you, Baby, one more time again…”

“I used to love her…
I know I’d miss her
So I had to keep her
She’s buried right in my back yard.”

“I don’t know, it must have been the roses
Roses on the ribbons in her long brown hair…
All I know, I could not leave her there…”

rip

The Ride of Silence

The Ride of Silence took place last night at the Rose Bowl and locations all over the world. This annual ride honors those cyclists that have been injured or killed while on the bike while at the same time raising awareness that the streets are for people and bikes and cars and that we can be mindful and respectful of each other while we’re out there.

It was a beautiful evening for a ride. We rolled out just before sunset with about seventy riders and slowly made three laps around the loop. Silence was kept throughout the nearly one hour ride which allowed each of the riders the peace and space to reflect on their individual reasons for being there.

Ride on… mindfully, respectfully, safely.

California vs. Italia

For me this is usually a no brainer – I’d take Cali every time. But this week, California, or I should say, the Amgen Tour of California really screwed up. Cycle racing has a very longstanding tradition in Europe. Many races there go back over a hundred years. No car support back then, but that’s a story for another day. Today’s story is that for some idiotic reason, this year’s Tour of California was scheduled right in the middle of the Giro d’Italia – one of the three Grand Tours in the sport of cycling along with France and Spain. I love the tour of California and I thought it was great when they held it in Feb/March as they did for the first three years, or is it four now – whatever, it’s a very young race. It was awesome to crush the pros early in the season and show off California to the world as an epic place to cycle with wind and rain and snow and sun and killer mountains and huge crowds, etc. But scheduling it not only in the height of cycling season but in the middle of the Giro is really in poor taste and stepping on European toes. I shake my upward curled fingers at you ATofC.

once you go track… you can never go back

Well, that’s a bit of an overstatement, but I thought you’d appreciate the title. After nearly 600 miles of running almost exclusively in my superlight track shoes I finally gave myself a break today on a short run with Hilary and wore my old regular running shoes, Adizeros, I think they are, which also have around 500 miles on them but today they felt like running on pillows by comparison, except for the fact that they simultaneously felt like running in concrete boots as they’re super heavy, again, by comparison.

I had a really hard time getting started on today’s run. It was like I had forgotten how to run completely. That’s how different my running style has become with my track shoes.

The trouble with the track shoes, though, is that they beat the crap out of you and after several months of that and that I’m just trying to recover from a pretty wicked fever/cold… well, today I just needed a break.

After about 1km of uncoordinated clown running form the old style started to trickle back in and it really felt great. It was so easy and so easy to go fast.

I’m gonna keep running in those track shoes because I think they really do make me stronger, but I think I should mix it up a little more often so that I don’t hammer myself into submission every time I go out.

Two weeks from now is the Mt. Wilson Trail Race in Sierra Madre and suddenly I’m thinking it might be nice to run in the cushy shoes for the race. They’ll be great for the downhill, anyway. And with their high heels should make the uphills less steep?

So, I guess you can go back… it’ll just never be the same.

the doors of perception

Awakening from a daze, I find myself on foot in the Arroyo, again. Am I pushing further and further to find this place of transition, as in an addiction, or am I finding deeper thresholds to pass through? Over worked, my legs ache. The spring sun is intense – unadjusted, winter hide still browning, I’m blasted. Out of place, a desert sky hangs, still, above this tilted alluvial plain between my mountains and the Pacific. Doldrums between uncertain seasons – a strange emptiness lingers – like a ghost town, the doors of the tavern hang open, no wind or man to swing them. The earth and sky waiting on eternity.

Brown and Sycamore

Shoeless Jo(nah)!

Last night, under the cover of darkness, I ran barefoot – almost. I wore socks. I guess that’s about as minimalist as footwear can get. It was a short run – three miles.

I wore socks not so much for the slight protection they provide from bits and sticks on the road/sidewalk, but so that it wasn’t so obvious to those few people around that I was running barefoot. I chose dark socks for stealth-ness.

As it turns out, running in socks is also stealth in that it is very quiet. It makes for a nice quiet evening of running – ghosting along.

The run felt good, right, natural… duh. A bit blistery at the front of the foot but in time I think that can be adjusted to, especially if I get onto a trail.

Water on the sidewalk from some sprinklers was an unexpected obstacle. The feet got wet briefly but felt nice, cool. I wonder if that encouraged the blistering slightly.

A couple days ago I had a slight tweak in my left ankle/Achilles. I iced it after yesterday’s first run in the morning. It does seem odd to try the first “barefoot” running experiment on a tweaked ankle, but when the Spirit calls…

I look forward to trying this again…

Mindful Mule and Me

Yep, that’s my bike’s name – Mindful Mule. But really, it’s my name, too. I guess I named my bike after myself. It’s a good name, for both of us.

Mules tend to follow the same paths over and over again. Sometimes they can handle the load. But, they can also be stubborn for no particular reason.

Sometimes they just want to lie down and eat fresh veggies.

Mindful Mule knows the path well enough and tries to follow it – slow and steady and predictable – most of the time.

But, you have to remember that Mindful Mule is half horse, too. And sometimes he likes chasing the peloton around for a few laps. He can’t keep up for long, but just long enough to make the thoroughbreds a bit confused. “What’s this mule with the flannel roll strapped to his pack doing next to me!” they snort.

Mindful Mule is a work in progress. Mellow already, maybe, but not really mindful, fully. The Mindful part of the name is more of a goal, a reminder. ‘Cause when you’re a mule, it helps to keep your mind full – or… empty, rather.

blissing out on the road bikes

There’s not much more I really need to add to that title but basically the sun has been out and it’s been warm and I’ve been riding. And with that the hundred mile weekend has returned.

Her name was Lolo…

…she was a trackstar…
Photo: Dominic Ebenbichler/Reuters

I’ve been watching the coverage from the World Indoor Track Championships from Doha, Qatar. Last night was the women’s 60-meter hurdles final. All eyes were focused on the Canadian “speedball” in the middle lane but emerging like a shadow from the far lane Lolo Jones ran away from the field in the second half of the sprint. It was a beautiful blowout of a race. That’s how you do it, baby. That’s a finish. You make me cry…

Malibu Creek Trail Run

Maybe the best part of my day (or almost) was seeing snow on Brown Mountain on the way to the start.

Also, nice to see several deer grazing the meadow around the start area.

The sun was out for the start and mostly the whole race. Better than the rain that had been expected.

I had been worried about the creek crossing at the beginning of the course. The water was cold and way up the thighs but didn’t really bother me. It felt pretty good. It might have even helped to ice the legs and feet before the ascent. Wussed out and took off my shoes, though. Left the socks on, though, if that’s any consolation.

The climb up was steep at times but mostly runable. Great reward at the top - The Pacific! Cold wind coming off the ocean changed the mood for a little while. Could barely open my rolled fruit snack because I couldn’t feel/move my hands.

Ran out of water just before midway aid station. And again just before finish. Brought a 24+ ounce bottle. Maybe should have brought two. More aid stations or even a water jug between them could help.

Stomach cramps weren’t an issue finally in a race situation. I often get them at these events. Don’t know why. Too nervous maybe or trying harder. Every time I thought I felt a cramp coming on I just focused on complete breathing and they went away. Also visualized taking the form of Totally 80’s with her 7-speed freewheel and downtube shifters – light, simple, free – I’m not sure how I came to this but I liked it.

At the highpoint of elevation the wind died and the sun felt nice on my cold hands. Also at that point I knew things were gong well. All downhill from there. Plus I was singing the Veggie Burrito song which means I had a little hunger and my body was happy. If I had been wrecked I wouldn’t have had the energy to think about burritos. It goes like this: veggie burrito, veggie burrito, veggie burrito…

The descent was a little tricky due to lots of sticky mud. And since I don’t snug up my laces there were several sections that nearly pulled off my shoes.

The last few miles I was jamming. I saw a sign indicating 3.2 miles to the campground (start/finish) so I just floored it. It was nice to have energy left in the tank.

2h55m at the finish. I was happy to break 3 hours. Very satisfied. Actually, surprised with my performance.

Malibu Creek is a beautiful park (especially at this time of year). Really cool rock formations surrounded by my favorite native plant friends.

Made it back home in time to pass out on the couch in front of the Paris-Nice cycling coverage.

the truth about bicycling

Someone asked me recently if I’ve still been biking a lot. That’s the kind of question I get from people. It’s kind of a weird question, I think - unless it’s coming from another biker that understands the scale of my biking.

So when I was asked that, I tried to answer truthfully and say that actually I haven’t been biking that much lately. I’ve been really tired and just haven’t had the energy. I blamed it on getting old or maybe I’m still recovering from the holidays…

And then the questioner relaxes knowing that I can’t possibly justify hounding him about getting a bike and riding it somewhere, anywhere… to just replace a single car-mile… now he thinks he’s off the hook. Even Jonah has given up so we can all continue along merrily like we haven’t already fucked up the world. So, my activism failed that night. And I’m sorry.

The truth is, without realizing it, or intending to, I really pushed myself hard to finish off 2009 with high miles – the most of my life – a 50% increase from my second place year (2008.) And I might just be ever so slightly burned out. Not burned out on the bike, but just physically run down. So, I haven’t been riding that much.

Which is to say, I’m not on pace to set another record this year. However, I am on pace for an easy second. Not that pace really means anything at such an early month in the year. Things may change for better or for worse, of course.

But it doesn’t feel like I’ve been riding much, so that’s how I answer. It’s the truth from me and a lie to the questioner.