Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Deep Sea
The images in this article on the New York Times are really beautiful. It's obvious, but at the same time weird, that a whole world of creatures lives almost literally a stone's throw away from us, but we've never seen most of them. I wonder what they'd think of us if they came up to the surface and could explore the land. I can see how Shigeru Miyamoto could be moved to create video game worlds based on all the intricacies of nature. I wonder what he'd make using the deep sea as a starting point.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
How time flies
I didn't realize I hadn't posted since Wednesday. WTF? I don't know what happened. Literally. I can't remember what happened in the days since then. Well, except for yesterday when Kerry's family was in town, and I got schooled at tennis, and then did a ride.
The long and short of it all is that I realized that 1) hill repeats are the bomb diggity, but I think I mentioned this already. 2) I suck at tennis. 3) Getting drunk/almost drunk and really, really, reeeeeaally full on meatloaf turns out to be a bad feeling for most of the rest of the night and the next morning. 4) When you see someone on the bus who you know, but don't have their number, it makes for an interesting wave-and-watch-them-drive-away moment.
In the off chance that you read this, hi Lizzy.
Ed. Note: I totally forgot to mention that on my drive downtown for a meeting on Friday, I saw a gal on a Masi fixie. It made me sad that I was stuck in a car, going to a meeting all dressed up in work clothes. Lame. We should all just bike, camp and drink all day, every day.
The long and short of it all is that I realized that 1) hill repeats are the bomb diggity, but I think I mentioned this already. 2) I suck at tennis. 3) Getting drunk/almost drunk and really, really, reeeeeaally full on meatloaf turns out to be a bad feeling for most of the rest of the night and the next morning. 4) When you see someone on the bus who you know, but don't have their number, it makes for an interesting wave-and-watch-them-drive-away moment.
In the off chance that you read this, hi Lizzy.
Ed. Note: I totally forgot to mention that on my drive downtown for a meeting on Friday, I saw a gal on a Masi fixie. It made me sad that I was stuck in a car, going to a meeting all dressed up in work clothes. Lame. We should all just bike, camp and drink all day, every day.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Work and stuff. Awesome!!
Like a lot of people, I don't really like to post about work. Today though a coworker sent me a link I thought was pretty interesting, and got me thinking about life and work in more broad terms than normal.
First the link.
There's lots of talk on the site about enjoying what you're doing, and having a purpose for doing it. I guess this is common sense when you think about it. No one likes busy work, or at least few people that I know. Thinking about this then reminded me of a line one of my instructors would tell me. At the beginning of any new project he'd ask if we were excited about it. If the answer wasn't an emphatic "yes", then he'd push us to get excited about it. He understood that the key to doing good work was to truly believe that the work you'd be doing on that project would be the best work you had ever done. I still tell myself that from time to time, especially on what are otherwise boring jobs. It's strange how such a simple change in perspective can dramatically change how one works, and at what degree of quality the final piece posesses.
Oh right, this is a bike blog. Tonight, I'm going to think about how great my ride is going to be, and it will likely be totally, and completely, awesome.
Awesome.
First the link.
There's lots of talk on the site about enjoying what you're doing, and having a purpose for doing it. I guess this is common sense when you think about it. No one likes busy work, or at least few people that I know. Thinking about this then reminded me of a line one of my instructors would tell me. At the beginning of any new project he'd ask if we were excited about it. If the answer wasn't an emphatic "yes", then he'd push us to get excited about it. He understood that the key to doing good work was to truly believe that the work you'd be doing on that project would be the best work you had ever done. I still tell myself that from time to time, especially on what are otherwise boring jobs. It's strange how such a simple change in perspective can dramatically change how one works, and at what degree of quality the final piece posesses.
Oh right, this is a bike blog. Tonight, I'm going to think about how great my ride is going to be, and it will likely be totally, and completely, awesome.
Awesome.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
The hills are alive
Although yesterday, they weren't alive with the sound of music, just the sweet sounds of belabored breathing and regular grunting.
Because of the wicked wind that was blowing in yesterday at somewhere around 20 mph, and because of the seemingly inevitable downpour (which never came), I decided to stick close to home and do hill repeats. I figured out that from the bottom of the Grand Ave hill to the very top was about200 130 feet. Five laps and about 12 miles later that meant I had climbed 650 feet. I was sure at the time that I had conquered a thousand feet, or right around that amount, but double checking this morning it turns out that it wasn't quite as impressive as I had hoped for.
Either way, I did learn something that surprised me. Normally I ride at a pace that leaves me pretty worn out when I get home. I don't really have much left in my legs when I roll into the driveway. This time though, even though it was hard, and I was definitely winded, my legs felt pretty fresh. I think the alternating hard workout followed by a few minutes of cool down cleared out my legs and kept lactic acid from building up. It's like a pre-built interval workout, and you don't even have to do anything but ride it. Sweet.
Now that I know I can withstand the tedium of riding a 2 mile loop over and over again, I'd be interested to see how I'd do on some bigger hills. I just checked and Ohio Street out to HWY 13 is just shy of 300 feet vertical gain. I'll be sure and post how that goes when the time comes.
Because of the wicked wind that was blowing in yesterday at somewhere around 20 mph, and because of the seemingly inevitable downpour (which never came), I decided to stick close to home and do hill repeats. I figured out that from the bottom of the Grand Ave hill to the very top was about
Either way, I did learn something that surprised me. Normally I ride at a pace that leaves me pretty worn out when I get home. I don't really have much left in my legs when I roll into the driveway. This time though, even though it was hard, and I was definitely winded, my legs felt pretty fresh. I think the alternating hard workout followed by a few minutes of cool down cleared out my legs and kept lactic acid from building up. It's like a pre-built interval workout, and you don't even have to do anything but ride it. Sweet.
Now that I know I can withstand the tedium of riding a 2 mile loop over and over again, I'd be interested to see how I'd do on some bigger hills. I just checked and Ohio Street out to HWY 13 is just shy of 300 feet vertical gain. I'll be sure and post how that goes when the time comes.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Thinking back
Last night's ride was tough. Ten minutes into the ride I hit the Ohio Street hill, and slogged my way up it. I was slow, and feeling sluggish. The next hour and a half followed suit. I was convinced something was off on my bike. Maybe a flat? Nope. Maybe a rubbing brake pad? Nope. Just tired, empty, worn-out legs.
The highlight of the ride though, and arguably of this year so far, was on the last mile. I cool down coming back in through the neighborhood, and as usual, was cruising along. I noticed after a few blocks that a kid was flying down the sidewalk on his mountain bike. We were neck and neck. I'd outrun him in spots, and then I'd hear him catching his breath and then the whirrrr of his chain as he pushed on by me. A few blocks later another kid on a BMX bike rode up on my other side and asked if I wanted to race. I agreed, and we cruised along for several blocks. He informed me that he was on a "trick" bike, so that's why he couldn't go any faster (although we were doing about 15, which seemed pretty impressive for a 12 year old on a BMX). A few blocks later he said he had to stop, because he wasn't allowed to go any further past this block. In the end he edged me out for the win.
I couldn't help but smile. It reminded me of all the summer nights as a kid that we'd race around the neighborhood. Everywhere was new back then. We would go cruise around the new development that was being put in at the end of our street. We'd make jumps in the dirt and see who could get the most air. I remember one summer day where I rode off on my own, venturing what I know now to be only about 4 miles, but it felt like a world away at the time. There's something comforting about knowing that our own experiences, however many worlds away from us now, are not gone entirely, just picked up and experienced again by someone else.
The highlight of the ride though, and arguably of this year so far, was on the last mile. I cool down coming back in through the neighborhood, and as usual, was cruising along. I noticed after a few blocks that a kid was flying down the sidewalk on his mountain bike. We were neck and neck. I'd outrun him in spots, and then I'd hear him catching his breath and then the whirrrr of his chain as he pushed on by me. A few blocks later another kid on a BMX bike rode up on my other side and asked if I wanted to race. I agreed, and we cruised along for several blocks. He informed me that he was on a "trick" bike, so that's why he couldn't go any faster (although we were doing about 15, which seemed pretty impressive for a 12 year old on a BMX). A few blocks later he said he had to stop, because he wasn't allowed to go any further past this block. In the end he edged me out for the win.
I couldn't help but smile. It reminded me of all the summer nights as a kid that we'd race around the neighborhood. Everywhere was new back then. We would go cruise around the new development that was being put in at the end of our street. We'd make jumps in the dirt and see who could get the most air. I remember one summer day where I rode off on my own, venturing what I know now to be only about 4 miles, but it felt like a world away at the time. There's something comforting about knowing that our own experiences, however many worlds away from us now, are not gone entirely, just picked up and experienced again by someone else.
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