3 crahes in 3 days

FYI..I'm pulling old posts from my myspace page...which I'm pretty sure I'll quit visiting soon.  I'll slowly get my old posts over.  This is one from when I first started riding off road.  Sadly, not much has changed...except now I can do Panther with no problem.    The date was ...oh heck...a few years ago..

3 Crashes in 3 Days

Current mood:mellow

New band I'm recommending?   Not at all.  But it would be a cool band name, better than lots I hear.  But it's just my last 3 days on a bike.

OK, back-story.  I started trying to get healthy after I quit smoking and joined a gym.  I also started swimming.  My first mile in the water took me an hour and 15 minutes but I made it, slowly.  Started running on the treadmill.  Once again, all gains came very slowly. I remember the first time I ran 2 minutes in a row.  (I'd really been out of shape.)  I saw the ad for the super sprint triathlon and decided to try it.  My bike training consisted of getting on the bike I'd bought at Sports Authority years ago and pedaling six miles around the neighborhood (the same distance as the race) the day before the race.  (Not exactly the best strategy, to be sure.)   I finished the race, it was very hard.  Decided my bike sucked totally.  Left it on my front porch for a few days and it was thankfully stolen.  So was in the market for a new bike.

My friend Bev (some of you know her, some of you know her by her reputation only, the defender of her shorter friend and assaulter of drunk obnoxious Trixies who dare to take my spot by the stage when I go to get another beer) and her husband have been into biking for years, and she kept talking more about it.  They are road bikers, they've done centuries and across Florida rides, so she was helpful getting me into the sport.  She found a sweet Giant hybrid in a thrift store for $10.  (Kevin, you don't know but the bike was originally destined for you but it is a woman's bike so I got it....haha.)  I took it to my local shop and got it road ready and took off.  Started going up to Flatwoods, a park close to my house.  It's got a 7 mile paved  one way loop, with a 2 mile jaunt over to another entrance that's two way.  I was so proud the first time I made it around the 7 mile loop.  And then, my god, I made it 2 loops, 14 miles.  OK, so it took over an hour, but damnit, I did it. 

I decided to try another tri, sprint distance.  Don't remember the exact distances but think the swim was 1/2 mile, bike 12 miles, and the run was 4 miles)...In this one everyone had their age on the back of their calves and that determined your wave.  I did OK in the swim (I sucked but didn't drown....Swimming is not supposed to be a contact sport but it is in a tri) and ran back to the transition area (slowly...I was barefoot and the pavement hurt my tender feet) and got going pretty quickly on my bike.  I knew so little about biking at this point.  I was clueless.  EVERYBODY passed me.  Some guy pulled up and said ....hey, you're doing this on a fat tire too...good for you. (I didn't know what he meant by fat tire at that point, an off road vs. a road bike.)  And pedaled on past me.  I saw the waves behind me pass me.  I saw the ages inked on their calves.  Saw the 40s pass me by, the 50s, the 60s...when a lady 70+ zipped by me, I resolved to get a better bike.
http://www.tampabays10.com/news/local/article.aspx?storyid=43445

I did pass one woman on the bike.  She was really overweight.  But I was delighted with that one small victory.  As I pulled into the transition area, my son Justen, about 9 at the time cried out, LOUDLY, "ALL RIGHT, MOM!!!! YOU'RE NOT IN DEAD LAST!!!" because there were still people behind me.  Every one in earshot howled with laughter. He didn't get the wave thing.  I was in dead last for my age group.  I resolved then and there to get a better bike, so a while later I bought an entry level road bike by Giant.  The bike shop fit me, I've got an XXS frame.

I kept riding up and Flatwoods and slowly improved.  Got going a few more miles every time.  Bev would ride with me sometimes.  One time she asked if I wanted to make it harder and I said NO.  So, let's FF to about a year ago. Bev and I were riding.  We got going late, it was a brutally hot day.  I'll admit it now, for the first time, that I was probably a bit hung over.  My mom had been staying with me after major surgery for almost 2 months at that point, and quite frankly, driving me nucking futs. I'm thinking that was part of it, 'cause I don't think I was that out of shape....but...about a mile into our ride we find this tiny baby tortoise in the middle of the paved path. (Hell, now that I think about it it may have been a tortoise vs. a terrapin) but Bev was convinced it needed to get to water and the next water source was a mile + away so she took off with this little critter it one hand.  She kept going faster and faster and I tried to keep up.  It was really, really hot and humid and I was huffing and puffing trying to keep up with her.  We got to the bridge with water and she let the critter go and we resumed our ride.  Went up to the other parking lot and came back, and about 7 miles into our ride I started feeling queasy.  I tried to ride thru it but realized I couldn't.  Aimed for some shade, got off my bike, and did the recommended thing by putting my head between my legs. 

Right then a park ranger truck drove up.   It was a serendipitous coincidence.   I was feeling pretty damned nauseous.  The ranger put my bike in the back of his truck, put me in the air conditioned cab, and took me back to the parking lot.  Bev rode her bike back.  I was feeling pretty queasy and the ranger kept up a steady flow of chatter……  'you've got to ride at your own pace, not try to keep up with someone else.'…. I checked my reflection in the mirror to see if I was bright purple and was relieved that I was only a  mottled  red.  We were almost back to the parking lot when I realized the radio in the truck was tuned to my radio station, 88.5.  I brightened up a bit and started talking about the station and that I had a show. A friendship was forged that day.  The ranger's name is Clint, and he, along with his wife (the very dynamic Barb), have become my bike mentors.  He encouraged me to get a computer for my road bike and keep the cadence between 90-100.  He's worked on my bike.  He gave me an old set of pedals and encouraged me to get the clips (which I finally did a few weeks ago w/ my economic stimulation check.) They both went with me to look at a mountain bike.   In exchange I've baked for them and made CD mixes (things I'm good at.)

I've had my mountain bike for about two months now.  The thoughts from all the riders  I know here in Tampa is that full suspension is really, really good to have here on the trails we have, with all of the roots.  I scoured Craig's List for months and finally found a used, small frame full suspension mountain bike at a price I could afford.  The woman who sold it to me had just moved from CA.  She'd had it a year, been out a few times on it, had fallen and decided she preferred a road bike.  A Trek Fuel 80.  Sweet, sweet bike.  Almost too big for me but I'm making it work.
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Tuesday I went mountain biking with my friend John, fondly known as big John.  He's one big, gregarious guy.  Kept apologizing for talking my ear off but I don't mind.  It's positive chatter, not negative.  John's been riding for 15 years and would be a super competitive rider if he'd lose 50 lbs, but he just enjoys getting out in the woods and I feel fortunate that I've found him to ride with.  I tell everyone that I made the mistake of saying hello to him and it was all over.  We've been riding buddies ever since.

So anyway, I'm a pretty timid rider.  Some of the trails here are very technical, with really sharp turns, roots and stumps and palmetto roots in the trail, and a lot of sand.  I've gotten better but I'm still a beginner.  In our park system where I ride there's a main trail that's a 15 mile loop, some tricky stuff and some smooth and easy stuff.  John and I had done that before, and I wanted to try some of the myriad side trails.  An aside, when I go over some really tough stuff I tend to curse a lot.  Potty mouth Jennifer, really.  My favorite epitaph that day was "Fuck me!" when I conquered some difficult terrain.  I told John he could tell all his cohorts that he had a woman screaming, demanding to have sex with him.  Anyway, he took me down Indian (noted at the beginning: Very Difficult Trail) and I just had one part that I had to get off and walk my bike over.  Felt good about that.  Then we went over to Heartbreak Ridge (also noted, Very Difficult Trail) and we go in and I'm almost immediately knocked off my bike when my handlebars hit a tree that I misjudged. But I didn't fall.  That was later.

When I'd heard the name of the trail, Heartbreak Ridge, I envisioned something high in the sky.  This is not.  This is a ridge through a swamp.  The trail itself is less than a foot wide and on either side it slopes sharply down into the bog.  It's dry now but during the rainy season it'd be wet and filled with mosquitoes.  When I say 'trail' what I really mean is tree roots.  For part of the trail there is no dirt, it's just gnarly tree roots. John kept saying, 'OK, that was the bad part,' and then we'd hit something worse.  I know you're supposed to keep your eyes focused further down the trail and not look down but I looked down, marveling at the mass of knotty roots below me, and BAM! I fell down.  Injuries:  my pride.  I picked the bike and myself up, walked it over a mass of tanglewoody knotty roots, and resumed the ride.  I'm pretty short, don't have far to fall, and I know in my heart of hearts that wiping out is part of this sport.  I felt good about that wreck, no blood, no damage.

So, Wednesday I go riding my road bike with my friend Andrew.  Andrew recently was laid off from his job (which he is delighted about, BTW, it was an incredibly stressful job and he was about at his wit's end anyway and he got a sweet severance package so overall it's all for the best) so he had time to go riding during a weekday.  We head up to Flatwoods, do the seven mile loop, then during the next loop we decide to head over to the Bruce B. Downs side, which adds four miles to your trip.  This is only my third or fourth ride with my new pedals and shoes with the clips.  Andrew was entertaining me with his stories about the crashes he had had with the clips.  We had gone down the gulley and were going up the hill when I saw a ranger truck.  The ranger honked and waved and I knew it was Clint.  He was slowing down to say hi so I tried to stop my bike while I was going up hill and I slowed and I realized to my horror that I had not clipped out and BAM! down I went.  I lay on the hot pavement, stunned, for a moment.  I'd hit my knee pretty good, it was bleeding.  Andrew was watching, bemused, and Clint pulled up, hopped out of the truck and drawled, "Aren't you glad I gave you those pedals?"  They both had a good laugh at my expense.  I guess I'm glad that if I did it, it was in front of two friends and not a bunch of strangers.  Clint continued, "Man, I wish I'd seen you go down, it must have been spectacular.  I just saw the aftermath."  He offered first aid for my bleeding knee but I said I'd wait until after the ride.  OK, so second crash in two days, blood's been drawn.  I was a bit shaky but walked my bike up the hill and Andrew and I continued the ride.

I'd been emailing back and forth a bit with Barb.  She's recently started the Florida Women's Cycling Network.  To join, they ask your goals.  One of mine is to be able to conquer Panther, another one of the difficult trails.  I'd tried to ride it a month ago and had fallen and ended up walking most of it.  She offered to take me and help me.  "You'd ride with me???" I was dumbfounded.  She's an expert level mountain biker.  But her goal is to encourage riders and make them better.  We met Thursday in the parking lot at Trout Creek.  The first thing she had me do is go over the cement parking stoppers.  I worked up the courage and rode around and aimed my bike toward the barrier.  I almost pulled up at the last minute but my bike went over, anyway.  Damn, I could do it!  Did that another half dozen times or so.  She said those barriers were bigger than any roots we would encounter out on the trail.  She was building my confidence up.

She got behind me as we rode, "Keep pedaling, keep pedaling," was her mantra.  Through the turns, everything, keep pedaling, keep pedaling.  Brake if you need to but keep pedaling while you're braking.  She kept on with tip after tip, and encouragement.  If I touched down she'd have me redo that section.  Momentum is your friend.  Your bike is built to handle this, your bike can get over anything in this trail, you've just got to pedal it and point it in the right direction.  Look down the trail, not right in front of you, pick your line and ride it, look down the trail. And keep pedaling, keep pedaling.  I was working hard, breathing like the bikers in The Triplets of Belleville (wonderfully funny and quirky movie, French, animated.)  I had some trouble when the trail disappeared almost entirely due to the hogs digging for roots and it was down to mere inches but she rode through it without a problem.  We kicked some of the dirt back so I had more trail to ride on so I made it thru that, but right after that were two huge trees with their huge tree roots to go over, and after that was a series of palmetto roots to go over.  The tree roots got me the first time, I stepped off.  Did it again and got to the palmettos and my bike stopped flat against one of the big palmettos (I would pick the line with the highest roots to get over.)  I finally muscled my way over the palmettos and was feeling pretty good about it.  Barb was on my tail, encouraging me.  I was looking ahead and saw a fairly sharp turn, followed by another big series of palmettos.  I knew I had to pick up some speed to make it over that series of roots.  I still don't know what happened but one second I'm riding and the next BAM! I'm on the ground.  I hit hard. I didn't even have time to anticipate going down and formulate a plan to make it more dramatic.  Barb approached and asked, timidly, "Are you mad?"  I'm pretty sure I laughed.  I wasn't mad, just hurt.  I had blood dripping down my leg this time.  I had a fairly deep cut on my knee- right above the previous day's injury- and my elbow and arm were scraped up, too.  Oh, boy, my worst injury yet!  I was really shaky and it took a few minutes to recover, but we did finish the trail.  Barb was apologetic, worried about me.  I told her not to worry about it, but I did not feel like taking Panther back the other way.  We took a different trail back to the car, much easier.

She regaled me with tales of her crashes on the way back.  It's part of the sport.  She did say she had some knee pads she was going to lend me.  If I'd had them on then I wouldn't have been hurt in the crash.  Yes, yes, yes I'll take the knee pads.  She said she was timid when she first started too, and that made me feel better.  She's been at it ten years, she pointed out, and I've been at it two months.  I will get better, she promised. 

I got home and didn't shower right away.  Had to show off my bloody knee to my kids, "Hey guys, you ready to come biking with me???" and wait for my husband to get home so I could elicit as much sympathy as possible.  It worked; I got him to make dinner (heat up leftovers.)

This morning I got a text from Clint.  He'd sent it last night but I was probably already asleep.  It said: 'Momentum is your friend.  Your Trek will go over everything even if u don't."  I replied back, 'The faster you go, the harder you fall.'

I was supposed to go riding with John and Bev today but Bev backed out and I decided not to take a chance on four for four.  My knee is pretty damned achy, as is my arm.  I think I'll heal for a day or two before I hit the trails again.

There's a reason they call it work

I've been back at work since the end of January. 

I knew how lucky I'd been before to be able to stay home.  I hope I let my husband know how grateful I was for the time I got.  I got years to perfect the art of being a domestic goddess.  (I never learned the art of keeping my house clean, however.) I was definitely spoiled rotten.  I still am, I've just got to go to work 4 or 5 days a week.  Sigh.

Is the job that bad?  No, not at all.  I work for a great company.  I spend all day on the phone and talk to nice people, most of whom absolutely love the company I work for.  I mean, really, who loves their insurance company, or their bank?  USAA members do.

I just miss my free time...so much!

I miss time to go thrifting.  I miss time to take my dog to the woods for a walk.  I miss riding my bike all the time.  I miss cooking.  I miss baking.  I miss sitting on the computer at home and hearing what my boys are doing in the background. I miss going to shows (sorta, this aging thing has something to do with it.) I miss my friends.  I miss going to the station and doing a show.  Basically, I miss my freedom.

So, it's not forever.  If I can ever get a regular schedule and get into a rhythm I'm hoping I can find a way to fit exercise back into my life.  Only getting a ride in two times a week is just not working for me.  On one hand, I'm enjoying getting a paycheck and not feeling under the gun financially; on the other hand I'm already trying to figure out how long before I can retire.

Is this post hopelessly whiny?  Probably.  I am grateful for what I have and am grateful for what I had in the past.  I am counting my blessings.  I just wish work didn't take up so much of my time.

Old 97's...Wednesday, March 2, 2011. Skipper's Smokehouse

I'll try to be as succinct as possible.  Not my normal MO, I know.  The more I write, the more Ranch Style Doritos I'll eat.

WMNF announced the Old 97's show a long time ago, October or November. Way before I knew that I'd no longer have a show.  I was ecstatic.   I considered it my birthday present. 

The Old 97's are an amazing live band.  I've seem them just a few times...one time in St. Pete on their Satellite Rides tour, and a few times in Austin at SXSW.  Every time I see them, they always give their all and always deliver a memorable show.  Rhett Miller is the consummate frontman.  Extremely good looking and sexy, a pretty boy, really, but he's got the rock god moves down.  He can churn his right hand playing his guitar (think Pete Townshend doing the windmill from his shoulder....Rhett somehow does that from his elbow) and whip his hair around in a frenzied state like no one else.  He can move his hips like Elvis and make the girls scream like Elvis and, damn it, I'm not immune to his charms.  Quite frankly, he makes me swoon.

I'm no more immune to his charms now than I was ten years ago, but this was the first time I was going to actually meet him.  How did I handle it?  Like the total fan girl that I am.

I was backstage for the opening band, watching them through the curtain.  He came up and started grooving on them.  The band was Those Darlin's, three young women and a guy drummer.  The lead singer is dynamic.  She's got a mop of floppy black hair on her head, perfect pale skin, a gorgeous face, amazing dimples and eyes that can bug out.  During their set she went through a gamut of facial expressions, and was totally engaging.

Rhett came up to me and said, "Hi, I'm Rhett." and I stuttered and said that I know who you are.  He said, "This song is great!" and turned his full attention to Those Darlin's.  I was able to observe him from close up.  My take?  He could pass for 25.  Really.  I think he's over 40. His bandmates all have gray hair.  Rhett probably dyes his but you can't tell.  His face is still youthful and his moves are those of a very young man.

The Old 97's were supposed to go on at 10, and it was my job to get them on.   But they weren't quite ready.  Their sound guy and guitar tech had to get their stuff set up.  I had a few conversations with them about how it was to be announced.  They have their opening music that they file on state to.  We were gonna wait for that, then I was gonna do the announcing.  I asked if they wanted me to include anything (not that I'd remember) and they told me to do whatever I want.  Mention Texas.

We're all backstage and they hear their cue music.  They all rush onstage and I follow and they're fiddling, getting their instruments set up.  And I become overwhelmed with my duties.  I'm ON STAGE AND ABOUT TO ANNOUNCE THE OLD 97's!!!!!  I cup my hands over my mouth and just start to sway back and forth with disbelief.  You know?  One of those moments that you couldn't imagine would ever happen in your life...well....it's right there in front of you.   It's happening right now.  I'm a part of this.  I AM SO LUCKY!  I AM SO ....I DON'T KNOW...DANG...(my hands are still clasped over my mouth in disbelief)...I heard Rhett say from my right side "We're ready..."  and I still stood there, struck dumb, with my hands over my mouth.  Rhett said it again.  "We're ready!" and I talked into the microphone and think I did a credible short and sweet intro.

Then I went to the side of the stage and enjoyed one of the best shows of my life.

Sound was not the best.  Had good parts and bad parts of sound.  Rhett was not happy...I could tell it from my vantage point but pretty sure the rest of the audience didn't know.

Was told after wards by friends that I was singing along with all the lyrics.  Really, I was in a 'feel very special' zone, and just had a blast.

Rhett acknowledged  me on his way out and then again after the encore.  I'm sure he wouldn't recognize me if we met tomorrow, but it doesn't matter.  In the moment, he made it matter.

OK, I  need to wrap this up before I forget the details.

It was an awesome night, an awesome show.

Thanks for reading.

Another foggy ride

Another cyclist was killed a week ago Sunday.  He was riding along, minding his own business, doing everything right, and a reckless, racing driver took his life.  It could have been me.

So why am I so adamant about riding my bike to work?  Because I can?  Because it makes me feel good, physically?  Because I feel superior and smug to all those lost sheep behind the wheels of their gas guzzling automobiles?

I'm ashamed but truthful in admitting that I do feel somewhat righteous about my bike commute.  There are so many positive aspects:


1) Exercise...I get an hour of sprint intervals in a day.  16.5 miles alternating easy and hard efforts

2) I don't have to deal with  the horrible traffic leaving the building in the afternoon.  I can glide right to the front of the line with my bike.

3) I'm saving wear and tear on my car. And saving $ on gas consumption.

4) Since the building is getting so crowded and people are having to park outside of the garage, I'm easing the parking burden by not bringing a car.

But this morning had me rethinking.  It was foggy outside, more dense than last week.  Every time I stopped I had to wipe off my glasses, and I didn't have the proper tools (ie cotton cloth) in which to wipe my glasses.  Most of the ride I pushed them down to the end of my nose and peered over them.  I couldn't see well (all is fuzzy with no glasses) but it was better than looking through lenses that were totally wet and soaked and spotted.

The fog was so dense (I was thinking London Pea Soup) that I couldn't see cars approaching me until they were almost on top of me.  If I couldn't see them, then they surely couldn't see me.  I kept that caveat in mind as I rode to work in the thick fog.  The danger was real, but it was still cool.  To quote Van Morrison, I felt like I was going 'Into The Mystic.'  When I turned off BBD on the detour, it was right after dawn.  A bit more light was creeping in.  A deer crossed the street right in front of me; ran from one patch of the woods to another.  Amazing to think that they're still there, coexisting with so many humans.

Awesome morning going in, very relaxed ride coming home. 

This part of life is good.

Settling In

So....what am I supposed to be doing right now instead of writing this?

I've got tomorrow night's dinner cooking, and we just finished eating tonight's dinner, which I made after getting home from work.  Both boys had orthodontist appointments, so drove them there (teeth fix, teeth fix), then to Publix for a quick stock up, before coming home and starting dinner around 6, and getting it on the table a little after 7.  This is all still new.  Figured I work on tomorrow's dinner tonight and get it ready to go into the crockpot in the morning.

I had energy to do all this because I rode my bike to work this morning.  It doesn't matter how early I get up, I'm always rushing to get out the door.  I want to leave at 6:50 and probably started pedaling about 6:57.  I hit the lights well today so timing was good.  But dang it was cold.  My legs were fine: I had my neon yellow tights on.  But my upper body was pretty chilled.  I warmed up with the ride to where the contrast felt good.   My skin was cold on the outside but heat was pouring out of the inside.  It was a foggy morning, my first.  And that added another fun aspect to the ride: my glasses kept getting wet, just like the windshield of a car.  However, I don't have windshield wipers on my glasses.  Maybe next pair.

I'm supposed to be studying for my licensing exam, which is Thursday.  But I can't read another word about insurance tonight.   I'm gonna finish the chores I'm working on, including cleaning the kitchen, and head to bed.  I did have a talk with the boys about how their responsibilities are going to change around here.  The key phrase is 'going to'.  If we just left those two words out and added the ing to change (after dropping the e of course) then it would all be good.  It's a work in progress.

Work's going well.  I get another pay check on Thursday.  I'm so excited.  I get paid!  I get paid!  I feel like doing the Snoopy dance.

The boys are taking off for a four day in the mountains this weekend.  I want to go, but I can't get any time off work.  I miss the mountains, man.  So, I get to be all by myself for four days.  That should be an adventure.

OK, tomorrow night's dinner needs my attention.

Good night.

Getting used to it all

This is week two of back to work.  I'm slowly getting used to it.  After 9 1/2 years of doing what I want, when I want, it's still hard to think about giving up that freedom.  However, what I get in return is pretty appealing.  A paycheck!  I get my first one tomorrow.  I'll be able to sign on to my bank account and see the money that I earned in there.  The first line of most property insurance policies say something like this..."In exchange for a premium we will provide the following coverage...."  That's kinda how a job is.  In exchange for your time and labor, we'll provide you with some money.

The first week of work was orientation:  This is USAA and this is who we are and how we operate and why we do it this way and for whom we do it.  We're a great organization, we're proud of what we do; if we chose you to work here you must be pretty terrific, too.  We expect a lot out of you, but we'll give you a lot in return.

This week is licensing.  I've got to get some sort of FL Insurance License.  USAA pays for this contractor to teach us to pass the test.  All personal lines.  I've had a license in the past, but I didn't keep up with my Continuing Education requirements, so my license has lapsed.  I've got to sit through this class.  It's all very dry stuff.  And I know most of it already.  To the other 13 folks in the class, these are all new concepts.  I know the terms but admit to not knowing/remembering the minutiae. So half the time I'm trying to not fall asleep, and the rest of the time I'm trying to cram some stuff into my head.  I've found games to play so it looks like I'm paying attention and taking notes.   I'll start with a word and change one letter in it and see how far I can go.  It goes something like this:

SHARE
STARE
START
STARE
SPARE
SPARS
STARS
STIRS

ETC...

OK, that one ended quickly, but today I filled up pages of my notebook doing this.  Gotta keep that brain engaged!

I've encountered some unexpected kindness, too, along the way.  I rode my bike in yesterday for the second time.  (Last Thursday was the first, didn't ride my bike to work on Friday because I had an off road ride planned for after work ((Can I make an acronym for it?  BRAW?  Bike Ride After Work?  With A Friend.  BRAWWAF.  OK.  That's it!))

Didn't commute Monday because I'd ridden Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

Yesterday (Tuesday) I got going late.  My plan is to leave the house at 6:50 to be at my desk by 8 and have enough time to shower beforehand.  Of course, I didn't get out of the house until 7.  The first part of the ride was no problem.  I was flying.  Looking down at my speedometer, I was hitting 20+ mph on the flats and got over 25 mph on the slight downhill on 50th.  Woo hoo.  Then I have to stop for a light.  It's like doing a half hour of interval training. I arrive at work sweaty and feeling strong.

Yesterday I got caught at the light on Bruce B. Downs.  I'm crossing BBD and it's a really, really long light.  I'd say at least three minutes between green lights for my lane.  I was sitting at the front of the traffic lane and a motorcycle pulled up next to me (a loud Mfing Harley.  I know some people love them but I hate them!) There's a Suburban behind us, but the driver is hanging back about 30 feet, not sure what to make of the bicyclist and motorcyclist side by side in the lane ahead of her.  I exchange a few words with the guy on the motorcycle, complaining about the length of the light.  The turn signal finally switches green for the left hand lane, the signal that we get to go next.  After the left hand turn has their run, the light switches over and goes to giving the left hand turn on BBD.  They missed me and motorcycle man.  We weren't heavy enough to trip the signal, so we had to sit through another light cycle.  Not a fast prospect!  I turned around and gestured for Suburban lady to please come forward, and she finally did and tripped the signal and we got the next light.

I got into the building, stinky and sweaty and was due at my desk in 10 minutes.  I got to the gym and did a quick PTA shower (was first introduced to this term when I was 18 and me and my best friend took our senior cruise and were roommates with two aging blondes from Miami who were both hoots..it means 'Pussy Tits and Armpits' but you can make up any variation that fits your body parts!) and was trying get dressed and was bemoaning to myself about my blouse, that I'd planned to press.  This woman, whom I've never seen before, took my blouse and ironed it for me.  I was just flabbergasted.  I was trying to get dressed, still trying to dry off, put my eye make up on....gather my stuff up...and I was just floored.  I thanked her and she said, "The morning crew'll do it for you!"  Again, I'm impressed about the place where I'm working.  I made it to my desk, one floor up and 3/4 of the way across the building, only a few minutes late.

On the way home I got passed by 2 guys from the USF Cycling Team.  They passed me at a light.  I caught up and said, "Hey, if you don't mind, I'll draft off you guys!"  They said, sure, but we're turning off at 42nd.  I said Me too! so I followed them for the short time before the turn off.  When we finally got to 42nd they took off like I was standing still.  I glanced at my speedometer and I was doing 18-20 mph, but these were 2 young skinny fit cyclist dudes.  They left me like I was standing at a bus stop.  But it was fun, for the few minutes we were riding together, feathering through the crowded intersections with an (albeit small) group.  The three of us were more noticeable together than any one of us would have been alone.

Didn't commute today because I had another
BRAWWAF.  And I hope to have another BRAWWAF on Friday.  Tomorrow, if all goes to plan, I'll ride my bike to work.

I still am worried about what I'll do if/when/when I get a flat.  I got a flat on my mountain bike over the weekend, and I was gonna change it myself.  My friend Nancy ended up doing most of it.  I need to learn to do this stuff.  Or I'll stick my thumb out on BBD and beg for a ride to work.

OK, bed time.  Thanks for reading.

First day of Bike Commute

I started back to work with USAA on Monday.  One of the things that I've been looking forward as part of going back to work is being a bike commuter.  It's part of what I believe in.  


I truly believe we'd be a better society if more people got out of their cars and onto their bikes for their ride to work.  I know that a lot of that has to do with the infrastructure and Tampa's is NOT bike friendly.  My commute is 50th across Fowler, left on Fletcher, right on 42nd up to Bruce B. Downs (BBD).  There is a nice bike lane on 50th.  There's a nice lane on Fletcher.  There's a nice bike lane on 42nd.  Until the stop sign (don't know the cross roads.)  The bike lane disappears.  But it's only 200 feet or so up to BBD.  There is a nice bike lane, but it's a really busy and fast street.  I've got school buses going by at 50 mph, which can be pretty unsettling for a bicycle.  Fortunately, it's only about 100 yards before a real bike commuter path starts that's 10 feet or so off the road.  That's a nice path for a few miles, but then construction starts up and they've shut off the bike lane so I've got to take a detour and go back behind Lowe's and wait for that light.  Again, I've got to say, that's a long freaking light.  Maybe it goes slower since I'm out in the elements on my bike, but coming and going today seemed to take forever.

I'm about 8 miles away from work.  I've got a bike lane most of the way.  It's flat.  It's an easy commute.  I'm happy.

But there's still all the other stuff to worry about.  I try to make eye contact with the driver of a car I'm approaching, but way too often they're on their cell phones or staring at their phone's screen, texting.  And I know it's because that bikes aren't a big enough part of the culture; they're not trained to look out for us.  I'm supposed to be a biking advocate, like Alan Snel, but I'm finding myself cursing the drivers far too often.  I almost fell over on the way home.  I stopped and unclipped  because a car was right in the path of the bike lane and didn't have any idea I was there....but didn't get my balance and almost toppled over.  I'm so glad for that save.

I left this morning a few minutes later than I'd planned (never good for a first go) but had a good ride to work.  One thing I noticed though; the traffic lights lasted a LOT longer during rush hour than they did when I did the same ride at mid day.  So, waiting for traffic lights or hitting traffic lights correctly can probably add or subtract 8 or so minutes from my commute.

Got to work, and had not planned properly.  Couldn't find my bike lock so I spent minutes fumbling for that.  Made my way to the gym and to the shower. Had 15 minutes to undress, shower, dry off, do hair and face, dress and make it to my desk. And I fought with the plumbing.   I thought turning the valve on all the way would get me hot water, but it didn't seem to work.  I danced in a cold water shower.  Didn't take a full shower; didn't have time.  Had a PTA shower.  Got some hot water by turning the valve half way back to cold (???)  I was so confused but had no time to ask anybody.  Managed to make it to my chair right at 8 o'clock.

Ride home was sweet.  Arrived home feeling refreshed.  Had some freaky moments..I was threading between two lanes of traffic without a proper bike lane. Was pretending I was  NYC bike messenger.   Hoping folks would see me in my bright red shirt.  But, you know what?  I arrived home feeling great.

Will continue next week.

Night.

Last Friday of Freedom

It's official.  I start back with USAA on Monday.  I'm excited and scared.  Some people thrive on change.  I can't say that I thrive on change, but I don't shirk from it, either.  I approach change with caution and some trepidation (kinda like me on an unfamiliar bike trail.)  I'm never all out balls to the wall unless I know what I'm doing.  I don't dive into water not knowing how deep is.  (OK, enough metaphors already...I'm sure you get it.)  The point is, I'm on the brink of a major life change, so I'm taking a deep breath and focusing on forward.  I'm trying to be mindful and observant of what's happening to me; I'm far more self aware than I was when I first started with USAA on January 2, 1989.

This past week has been a flurry of activity.  Do I spend my final days of freedom being productive or lazy?  I did a little of both.  Got some great rides in, cooked some fabulous meals (well, that's nothing new) hung with friends and kids and goofed off a lot. Finally joined Facebook so I now know what all the fuss is about and have played Zuma Blitz way too often.  I've also been running carpool 2x in the morning and 1x in the afternoon, so I've been spending over an hour and a half a day in my car, just shuttling kids (I'll be happy to say adios to that chore, for sure.)

Was going to ride yesterday morning, but woke up in the middle of the night to thunderstorms, so I knew the ride wouldn't happen.  That was OK.  My legs were still recovering from riding Croom on Thursday.  Riding my mountain bike in actual hills, not knowing what's coming up around the next corner.  Bombing downhills.  It was fun, but a lot different from Flatwoods.  I felt well exercised after leaving Croom, and eating at Maw's Vittles in Brooksville capped off the experience.

Friday started out rainy, as I said.  Met Nancy and we ate lunch at Latam at Centro Asturiano in Ybor City.  They had a Cuban Buffet that was fabulous.  We then headed over the the Restaurant Warehouse.  Steve's husband owns New World Brewery and had recently joined this wholesale-for-the-restaurant-trade club.  He'd warned us to wear our heavy coats in, and he was right.  It's a big warehouse, very reminiscent of Sanwa on Hillsborough.  I love all things food and all things restaurant related, so I had a ball touring the aisles with Nancy.  When we went into the refrigerated section, even with our coats and hats and gloves, we still froze.   There was a sign that they keep it between 28-32 degrees.  It was damned cold.  In truth, I didn't see that the prices were any better than Sanwa's on their items, and I could do better at the produce market on Hillsborough for most of the fruits and veggies, but I still had a great time.

After a busy afternoon, I headed back to Ybor to The Cuban Club.  WMNF is holding it's annual book and record sale today, so volunteers were needed to get the books out and organized.  We've been doing this for about 10 years now, and I've never seen so many books before.  The place was overflowing with donated goodies. It was overwhelming, but many hands, etc.  Tons of people make this happen, but Walter and Ray are the ones without whom it would not be possible.  I'm hoping the sale was successful.

Three of my favorite bands were playing Friday night at New World.  Headed over to New World and said hey to Devon of the Takers, who was opening, and to Matt from Have Gun, but I'm lousy at small talk with people I don't know really well, so I got a Creative Loafing, ordered a beer and pizza, and sat at the bar and tried to read in the very dim light. CL was supposed to run some ads for the book and record sale in exchange for them hanging flyers at the event.  The flyers were abundant.  I scanned the paper two times and did not see an ad for the book and record sale.  Hmmmm.   I have to say, IMHO, that New World Brewery makes the absolute best pizza.  The crust is thin, the red sauce is divine and garlicky, and the toppings of mushrooms, cheese and basil just exploded with flavor.  I had half of the pizza at that first sitting, two more sitting in my car later waiting to get out of the parking lot, and the last two for breakfast this morning.  Absolute, sheer pizza heaven.

After I ate, folks started showing up that I knew, so I had someone to hang/chat with.  Bev and Bryan.  Devon started playing about 10:30 and did a good 30-40 minute set.  He's from Gainesville but, as often as he plays out here,  he may as well live here.  I don't get out often, so it was great to see him.  He's got a voice for country music, writes amazing songs, and can play a mean guitar.  He's really got the chops to make it big.  Hope he gets to be more than a big fish in a small pond.  His former band was The Takers, and they have one record out.  Don't know the whys or hows of the band break up, but as long as Devon's still playing and writing songs, it's all good.

At the set break was heading out and ran into my good buddy, Eric, a park ranger at Wilderness Park.  I'd try to contact him earlier on Facebook about the show, but his internet has been down.  Jarrod was there with him, another park ranger.  Jarrod shared his flask with me (bourbon...like I needed anything) and it was great to see those guys out.  Eric asked me who I was there with.  I sorta shrugged, because I wasn't really with anyone.  It's just that people I know show up at these events, so I don't feel alone.  They were with two pretty young things, so I excused myself so they could concentrate on their dates.  As I turned around to leave them, there was Henry and his girlfriend. For a while, when USAA was doing their great experiment about combining Policy Service and Claims into one unit,  Henry had the desk across from me.  We see each other occasionally at shows.  He laughed when he heard I was going back to USAA.  He'd moved on a few years ago.

Will Quinlan and the Diviners were absolutely top notch.  There's a new bass player.  They played their familiar stuff extremely well.  He did a Tom Petty song.  And one of the new ones he played...wow!  it was just outstanding.  I admit I couldn't understand the lyrics, but musically, on the first fresh listen, it was as catchy as any song I've heard.  I can't wait for the new stuff to come out.

Have Gun were as totally wonderful as always.  It's such a treat to see a band in top form, with the audience singing along with the songs.  It was truly a special night.

Took forever to get out of the parking lot, and didn't get to bed until 2:30.  Fortunately, was able to go back to bed after breakfast and stayed in bed until 2:30 in the afternoon.  Woo-hoo!  Felt normal Saturday night.

A new chapter begins.