The Road Ahead, Literally

The car is packed, the sails are set, and the cow is fat. Time for the slaughter.

Yes, I get to see Colorado, Wyoming, Utah, Idaho, Oregon, and Washington in the next 2 days.

Yes, I will be driving my Thunderbird with my bike in the front seat, chained to my wrist.

Yes, the rest of my earthly possessions will be in the back seat.

Yes, when jumpstarting my car this morning, I blew out the stereo and will have no music.

Yes, I'm considering driving with earbuds in at a low volume, and I don't care what you think. (Mom, I do care what you think, and won't do that just so you won't worry)

Yes, I will be spending 600 consecutive miles of my weekend on I-84.

Yes, I will be reviewing two hotels for Yahoo! Travel solely on the basis of their continental breakfasts, which I will be sampling after assessing the serenity of their parking lots overnight.

Yes, I will be signing up for trial memberships under aliases at two gyms along the way to stay on my training program.

Yes, I know all of this is ridiculous.

And no, I wouldn't have it any other way.

21 hours of America, baby.

Preparing for the Road

As astounding as it seems to me, and as near-unbelievable as it may be, tomorrow is my last day in Dillon. It's been a very rewarding and enjoyable 3 weeks. I've trained with more discipline than I ever have before (it's easier than you think when you live in the gym and your profession demands at least 10 hours a week of working out), enjoyed some of the most picturesque views Colorado has to offer (I would have preferred to use "panoramas" instead of "views", but I couldn't bring myself to utilize such cheesy alliteration in this blog), got in a few more (perhaps my last of the season - gasp!) snow days, and spent a lot of time reading, writing, and relaxing. It's been borderline luxurious (although my mother would probably not consider living out of a backpack for 3 weeks and sleeping on a couch that may or may not house a dead mouse (I can avoid alliteration, but witty rhyming was irresistible) in the back room of a gym "luxurious, I would, and do).

All that being said, it's still exciting to have the open road lying ahead. I leave first thing (well, second thing - I have to spin first, of course) Friday morning, heading points northwest to Seattle, WA. After almost 8 years of telling all of my friends I'd come back, I'm finally making good on my word. Interestingly enough, I don't get even the slightest impression that any of them ever doubted me. I'm excited to spend some legitimate time in the Pacific Northwest again - part of me never really left. It's not so much that I know it's my home, but that I know it can be my home base.

Seattle is near the Cascade mountains (which serve to complement both my cycling and snowboarding obsessions), the Puget Sound (for the stray day - more witty rhyming - when I need the water), Canada (it's always fun to be able to shoot into another country for a day or even just a beer should you feel like it ), and is home to a major international airport (which makes getting to major international destinations a lot more accessible).

I struggle to find things I don't agree with about Seattle. I look forward to jazz shows, city (real city!) commuting by bike, excessive amounts of coffee, and the hundreds of other little luxuries a city proper has to offer. I look forward to reconnecting with friends, and to finding new ones. I look forward to learning how to ride a bike all over again. I look forward to rejoining my first kickball team on the field of competition. I look forward to what I don't know yet to look forward to.

"The world is as a book, and those who do not travel read but only the first page." - St. Augustine

My First Ever Repost

Below is an excerpt from the Do Lectures (www.dolectures.com) blog, and I felt it was worth reposting. Enjoy.

The magic is in the middle.

If the polo mint didn’t have a hole, it wouldn’t be the same.

Of course, you would have around 25% more mint.

But the magic would have gone.

The Polo would no longer be The Polo.

It’s often the case of what you don’t do, don’t have, don’t say, ends up defining you.

Take The Do Lectures as another example. It’s special because of the bit in the middle.

Of course, the talks are inspiring.

And yes, the attendees are the most progressive and driven people you could ever wish to meet.

But those things alone don’t explain the magic.

The bit in the middle is in the canteen, in the pub late at night, around the campfire until dawn. It’s all the talk that takes place there that gives The Do Lectures the magic.

You see, most talks, most conferences do a great job of inspiring you, then you have a cup of tea or a beer and off you go on your way home.

But ideas need conversation, they need debate, they need challenging, they need people with different viewpoints, they need airplay.

In short, they need you to stay.

One Of My Clients Has It Together

Below is a link to a story about one of my clients here in Dillon - he has successfully built the county's first net-zero energy home (meaning it produces more energy than it uses). Using special building materials, solar paneling, a masonry heater, and many more very cool advances, he's got the coolest house on the block.

http://www.summitdaily.com/article/20100422/NEWS/100429960/1078&ParentProfile=1055

Congrats, Clark - I'm inspired.

A thought

How can one compete against others without first staking a claim of victory within one's self?

I think of this while pondering the names and legacies of the great champions in their venues. No matter the arena, this statement holds altruistic.

I'm challenging myself, because I have not yet won. I have not defeated all of the shortcomings that reside inside of me, and their strangleholds - although abstract and even fragile at times - continue to try and hold me back. Their cries of restraint are what limit my potential, not the will or the talent or the positioning of those ahead of me.

I think of this not because I have misstep, but because I believe I am starting to learn how to succeed.

Christmas

Yes, Christmas. It's snowing outside, the NFL is on TV today, and I ate entirely too much food for breakfast. It's just like Christmas.

The training week is going well, and I feel as though my body is starting to catch up to the demands I'm imposing on it. 25 hours a week is a lot for a body to get used too. I'm loving the new bike more and more every day, and it seems as though this investment has fueled my desire to succeed on the bike more so then ever. My view of the wonderful two-wheeled machine is changing slowly, from just a way to get around to that and so much more - a fitness tool, a weapon in competition, a benchmark to measure one's self with. You can spend all the time working on the vanity of physical appearance, but I know how true it is that you're only as fit as your heart and lungs.

My days have been consisting of a lot of training, a lot of resting, a lot of reading books (I'm in the middle of Timothy Findley's "Famous Last Words", a riveting novel about an eccentric author's life and demise in the madness of WW2), and a lot of chocolate milk and peanut butter. Admit it, you wish you could copiously imbibe chocolate milk by the gallon as a part of your fitness protocol. Bike more, and you probably can (gratuitous plug for takeyourbike.org).

Touching on the TYB front, things are progressing. We're refining our website daily, building our support base, jumping through all of the legal hoops that are involved with setting up a NPO (trust me, there are many), and fine tuning our promotions efforts as they pertain to our Border2Border tour this fall. Realizing that most of the population can't drop their job and other obligations for 5-6 weeks and bike down the Pacific coast, we're going to be marketing and organizing "minitours" such as Seattle-Portland, San Francisco-LA, and LA-San Diego. The main benefits of this move include appeal to local/regional sponsors (local bike shops, bike clubs, and other startup advocacy groups) and accessibility to our target market (the real commuters, for a whom a 2-3 day bike trip is within reach amidst their life priorities). This is most definitely a growing process, and one that I'm rather enjoying at that. The options of the world never cease to humble me by shedding light on that which I don't know.

It's astounding how a simple snowfall and the right song can define a mood for a day... my optimism and enthusiasm today is proof of that. Do yourself a favor and take a listen to Nada Surf's "Inside of Love". It's worth making the time.

Ah... weekends.

It's an intriguing feeling to wake up with one's legs feeling heavier than when you went to sleep, and then to check the time and realize that your body demanded a full ten hours of sleep. For some of you this may be a common happening (the sleep part), but for me a ten hour night's sleep is near unheard of. Taking into account the sensation of ballast in my legs, I couldn't deny the argument that my body needed it. I suppose these are the sorts of revelations I can look forward to as I acclimate myself into a full-fledged training lifestyle.

You could argue that I've been living a training lifestyle for some time now, but what I'm referencing here is an entirely different beast. I would argue that the corner was turned when I started viewing meals as "refueling" or sleep as "recovery". To do so - in my mind, anyway - dissipates a certain humanity from the day's offerings, but within the sacrifice lies the discipline. It's not to say that I don't enjoy a good meal with good company or a good night's sleep for what they are, nor do I diminish the value of these things as they stand, but my perspective has shifted. The first steps are being taken.

I enjoyed my weekend (which includes a "rest" day in my self-imposed training program) smiting Mother Nature and going snowboarding. I had grand plans to do some cycling, but a mid-April storm fouled up the streets - unswayed, I headed for the resorts and chased down some turns.

I spent both Saturday and Sunday at Copper Mountain, which is a freestyle Mecca in the snowboarding world (I'd argue top 10 in the US) and the home base of Camp Woodward, the US's premier snowboard and skateboard training facility. The camp is home to a number of trampolines, foam pits, air bags, and dive pools - all of which exists solely to allow riders to hone their skills in a low consequence environment before waging battle in the real venue. Pretty cool stuff, and a very unique perspective on the sports.

Copper was a good time, and their many parks (you can hit 5 in one run) provided a plethora of stimulation for my freestyle-oriented mind. I didn't push the limits much, but I had a lot of fun looking at some new features, thinking creatively (one of my favorite lines of the weekend was a rail-to-fence ollie out of the park- to fence ollie back in- to jib barrel combo), and playing around. Something about closing weekend brings a little mischief and mayhem out of people, and throwing snowballs and spraying unsuspecting skiers never gets old...

I'm back at my home/office/training compound now, and am fresh off of a 90 minute hammerfest on the spin bike (the streets were still too fouled up to launch an outdoor assault on my legs), and am looking forward to that aforementioned "recovery". I have a heavy week ahead of me, and hope to do some sightseeing as well.

Keeping busy is a skill only granted to the creative and a burden only laid upon the subservient. Perspective is everything.