Check This Out

Just a little something I came across on a trip to Cokeville, WY last weekend. This is a sign that could only be encountered in Wyoming. It makes me think though ... maybe I need to re-calibrate my computer. I could have sworn I was only doing 24 when I encountered the antelope last week.

Irony

I believe that it is ironic the way the I ended my last post. "Regardless, we'll keep on running and looking out for what's right up ahead." The irony came last Sunday afternoon as I was out for a two hour bike ride. It was my first time taking the tri bike out this Spring and the day was beautiful. Temperatures in the mid 60's and not a cloud in sight. I was really excited to spend some time in the aerobars, since up till now most of my seat time had been spent on the trainer or commuting around town.

Everything was so peaceful and warm, I couldn't help but let my self fall in to a meditative state. That's when things went very wrong.

I was cruising along in the aeros; counting the number of chew cans along the side of the highway. To my best guess I was doing around 22-25 mph when I found myself airborne. I quickly returned to earth though and began sliding down the shoulder of the road. Once I finally stopped and unattached myself from the bike, my first thought went to the condition of my full carbon Specialized Transition Pro. It faired amazingly well, with only some cosmetic scrapes. My body did what it was supposed to do. It sacrificed itself for the bike. Once the bike was OK, I had to figure out what had caused this. As I looked 25 feet back from my current position, I realized that I had ramped over the very same dead antelope that I noticed from the other side of the road on the way out. The very same inanimate hazard that I had seen less than a half hour before. After comprehending what I had just done, I finally checked my body out. I wiped off the gravel and bemoaned the destruction to my kit. All damage was confined to my left side, with most of the focus on my elbow and knee. (I will spare everyone the gory pics, but if you are interested in checking out the damage.) My next thought was... this is going to hurt tomorrow! I straightened out my handlebars, phoned a friend for a ride and headed towards town.

My pride was hurt more than anything. I took me two days before I visited the doctor. I actually did a 9 mile run yesterday and the knee felt great. I'll get through this; it's only a minor setback. The term we use to describe this situation in wildland firefighting is situational awareness (SA) and my SA was definitely lacking that day. So for now I'm not going to make any promises, because you never know what might come back to bite you.

Going Down the Road

On most days when I'm running, I see one thing out ahead of me…the backside of my dog Winnie.

OK, that's not the only thing I see. It's actually pretty amazing all the things I observe while running. A couple weeks ago while in Mexico, I couldn't help but noticing all the similarities between Mexico and Wyoming. The thing is, no matter where I run, I always get the same funny looks. They are trying to figure out what exactly this tall, scrawny white guy and his dog are doing and why this runner can't find somewhere else to run. Most of the roads I run on were not designed for cohabitation between bipeds and motorists. While running on the roads and highways provides lots of observations; I am finding a lots of things to see on the local paths. Worland has only had a running/biking path for about nine months now. It is quickly becoming my favorite spot to people watch.

I use to come home from a workout and be excited that I saw someone else running. Now I can visit the local path and find people and dogs out exercising at about any time of day. I have seen folks running, walking, cycling and kids skateboarding, I've even seen people driving "rascal" scooters down the path. I was almost tempted to run home, grab my long board and really show those kids how to ride. It's encouraging to see people outside doing things. It makes me feel like part of a greater community. Someday, maybe Winnie and I won't be looked at with such bewilderment. People might just smile and wave. Regardless, we'll keep on running and looking out for what's right up ahead.

Viva Mexico!

It has been quite a long time since I posted anything to this site. Call it apathy, call it life, definately can't call it blog-fade though. So much has changed in life since last May. A race season has come and gone. The same is true for swim season. Now, as Spring blossoms, I find myself in Tulum, Mexico with my brother and sister-in-law. I don't exactly know what to call this trip. At times it is vacation, but it is also open water swim training. I can run for the first time all winter in just shorts and a t-shirt. If I think about it though, it is really a time to escape, to put things into perspective, and begin the next chapter of my life.

This is not my first time in Mexico, nor is it the first time to swim in the Caribbean Sea. It is the first time though, that I have allowed my mind to be free of life's pressures in a long while. It is the first time I have used the ocean as anything more than just a playground. Swimming with my brother for the first time since high school, reminded me of how life comes full circle. I may be a better swimmer now than I was 13 years ago, but he still finds a way to keep up. While some would consider fins to be cheating, I just think it as him using the resources he has available.

My brother and sister-in-law have been the best supporters of both my training and my life this past year. They were cheerleaders, councilers, and they challenged me to a 50 mile mountain bike race. Well that last one wasn't so much in support, as it was to show me that miles on the road don't equate to miles on the trail. It was all for my benefit though. In less than a week I will return to Wyoming with a new mindset, a little tan, and some much needed endurance. More than anything though, I will have a greater appreciation for Mexico and all it has to offer. Adios!

LBS

Worland is a fairly small town in North Central Wyoming. We don't have a bike path, we don't have an outdoor pool, we don't even have a Walmart. OK, that last one we could probably continue to live without. What we do have though, is a great Local Bike Shop (LBS). Larsen's Bicycles is fastly becoming my home away from home. Last Saturday I spent a couple of hours hanging out, working on a rim had been bent in a recent race. In those few hours I saw a perfect cross section of the community. There were young kids looking for the first ride or their next upgrade. Parents were looking for graduation gifts, while others were searching for a way to spend more time with their families. Older couples were finding a way be together outside. It was like sitting in a coffee shop, with a twist. The occasional out of control youth was bouncing off the walls, while old timers stopped by just to provide sage wisdom. Lisa, the owner and sole full time employee, spent the time visiting with customers, wrenching on bikes (new and old), and slimming the heck out of tires (If you've never heard of goat heads read, Bolder in Boulder's blog.)

I purchased my last two bikes from Lisa. My most recent purchase is the beauty seen above. I went fishing for a road frame to build a singlespeed commuter and brought home this baby for $10. What she had just laying around was a 1983 Trek 560, that was originally sold by Larsen's Bicycles in Powell, WY. The thing was in excellent condition for a 25 year old steel racer. I ordered all of the parts necessary to turn it into a modern singlespeed worthy of a big city messanger from my LBS. I received the care and concern that you would expect from your best friend. For that she has a customer for life and I have a bike for hopefully that long.

Springtime in the Rockies

My first open water swim of the year was just under a month ago. I swam in Boysen Resevior on April 19th, the water temp was 48.6. The looks on the fisherman's faces when I pulled up, put on my wetsuit, placed a life vest on my dog Winnie, and hopped in, was priceless. They watched me the whole time through a set of binoculars, I know it wasn't out concern for our well being, but morbid curiosity. I then did my first race in Boulder, CO where the water was a balmy 56 degrees. At least, a couple hundred other crazies chose to join me for that one. Other than a chilly swim the rest of the race took place on a bluebird day.

The next race was in Gillette, WY, last weekend. I braved 4 inches of newly fallen snow just to drive the 160 miles there. I awoke on race morning to find snow on the ground, the wind blowing around 20, and a rain/snow mix falling from the sky. I was up for whatever mother nature could throw at me. As everyone was sitting around the pool trying to psych themselves up for the challenge, another athlete asked me if I was a local. I let him know that I had driven in the night before, to which he asked if I was crazy. Maybe I was, but then we all must have been since all 45 athletes that showed up, raced. When I placed my running shoes out in the snow for T2, I threw a towel over them, just to keep more rain and snow out. Then when I flatted 4 miles into the bike leg, I struggled to pry my tire, which had frozen to the rim, off. It took almost 8 minutes to change the tire, with wet gloves on. Those are the scenarios that you don't exactly practice for. The rest of the race was more a battle against the elements than each other. I loved it, I had a great time. Not everyone was happy after the race, I heard quotes about frozen feet and the worst race ever. I bet if you asked to same people today, they would have a whole new perspective. Triathlon is the greatest sport ever and I will be there come rain or shine.

Family Affair

First triathlon of the year, over and done with. The season started out with the Tri For Your Cause Early Season in Boulder, CO on May 4th. My brother and his wife came along with me for support. The only time my brother has done a triathlon was in 1995 at a Bud Light Series race in Marshall, MN. I remember he, myself, one or two more athletes, and our high school swimming and track coaches made the trip accross South Dakota to olympic distance race near my swim coaches home town. Thinking back, it was an open water, lake swim and I flatted twice on the bike course for a DNF. I spent the rest of the race cheering on my brother and the rest of our team. This time it was his turn to cheer me on. Nothing is more exciting than having your own personal cheering squad. Exiting the water, they were there. When I tried to do a Superman running bike mount and flopped out of T1, they were there. When I came a across the finish line, they were there for me.

Now it is my turn to be there for them. Upon returning home from the race I talked to my brother. He told me they had gone swimming yesterday, the first time in almost a year. Now they are planning on doing the Cheyenne Sprint Triathlon in July with me. I was so enthused to hear that I was bringing someone back into the sport and as for my sister-in-law, a rookie. I am far from being an expert, I am simply a student of the sport. If I can only give them a small piece of the education that this sport has given me since my return, I know they will do great.