Jack-ass 3: The County Convention

Let me begin by saying that it was not my car in the parking lot which sported the "W" sticker. I learned my lesson early in the first go-round, thank you very much.

For anyone who has ever wondered how one living in the good old U.S. of A. could become disillusioned with the idea of democracy and/or the election process, I invite them to look no further than their county party convention. However, "invite" might be the wrong word; "condemn," maybe. Or "suffer." Yes, suffer, for that is exactly what I did for a little under six hours yesterday morning and afternoon at the Guadalupe County Democratic Convention.


Way back on Texas Primary day, I made the somewhat foolish mistake of signing up to be an alternate to the convention. With but two days remaining until the convention, and no word from anyone about my required presence at the convention, I presumed I was "out of the woods" and made plans for Saturday, including a ride with SAW, as well as dinner and a hockey game with N---, S---, and K---. Come Thursday, though, I got a phone call. And an email. After a return phone call, where I was assured all would be wrapped up within four hours; I would be finished by 2 o'clock. It is with this assurance in mind that I set out Saturday morning to perform my civic duty. I should have known by the overflowing parking lot at the Lion's Hall down the road that this would not end well.

By 9:15, I was signed in as an alternate and seated in the hall, waiting for the show to get going. A cursory glance at the agenda revealed that my 2:00 PM time frame was off by an hour; if all went well, we'd be out around three o'clock. All was not going well, as semi-organized chaos ruled supreme in the lair of the Lion's. Microphone problems and other setup issues were resolved relatively quickly, and, at 10:03, the county chairperson began introductions and a series of hackneyed political rhetoric. Shortly after, the chair admitted he was stalling for time because roll call for delegates had not been remedied, so he introduced a few of the county candidates for local positions: one constable and one precinct chair. The former proved why an outline or some form of organization of thoughts for public speaking is a good thing by rambling on for better than ten minutes about his own history and a non-profit organization he's established in the county seat. All I really got out of why he would make a better constable was that he's established an NPO, is a veteran, and is younger than the current constable. Yes, younger. Well, shucks. No wonder there was such a dynamic turnout for the Democratic party this year: The presidential candidates on their side of the fence are younger than that of the Republican. Heck, I'm sure Clinton & Obama combined are younger than McCain. But, I digress.

The second candidate kept things mercifully short, acknowledging she did not have much to say, simply asking for votes; guess she was running unopposed. Surprise, surprise.

Two-and-a-half hours after arriving, it is determined that I am to be bumped up to a delegate. Why it took them two-and-a-half hours to determine this is beyond me, for none of the @#(%* delegates from my precinct bothered to show up; only alternates did. Because of this, three precincts wound up being combined in order to get some predetermined number of folks to vote for delegates. This took another hour, another thirty minutes to go outside and determine who would be delegate to the state convention, who would be alternate, and then develop & implement strategies to ensure the delegate guaranteed to vote for the candidate that our "side" wanted would win the precinct vote. Sounds a lot like cheating, and, in a way it was. I felt like such a whore for allowing myself to be used as such but I just wanted to get it over with. Ironic, that, the night before, N--- & I had watched Goya's Ghost, which used the backdrop of the latter days of the Spanish Inquisition (and subsequent days & effects of the French Revolution -- egads! will I ever be rid of that blasted subject?) to tell its story, part of which focused on what people will do to stop pain. And that was me: I just wanted the pain to stop and get on with it.

Precincts successfully divided over the candidate & delegate selection, we rejoined the rest of the delegates and began voting on resolutions to be put before the state convention. After a handful of resolutions (there were some twenty or thirty requiring voting), I excused myself and made for home. I'd had enough. Yeah, I'm pleased as punch to call America home, and the country has been good to me, but I just can't help but feel we, the citizens, have had the proverbial wool pulled over our collective eyes. Even at the local level, power rests in the hands of those who, literally, play the system and have the time to do so. Most are white men; even more are retired. And the masses remain mute for no better reason than to not want to rock the boat. Smile, nod, and pray that it'll all work out in the end.

Speaking of the end, this is the end of this one. Thanks for reading.//d

Is This Thing On?

After a week and a day, I am led to believe that the computer geniuses at AccuWeb have fixed my Blog problem, again. I say "again" because this wasn't the first time I encountered publishing errors, and, from the sound of it, I am not alone. A cursory perusal of the 'groups' section at Google gives one the impression there are some serious coding errors in Google's blogging software and its abilities to work with all servers. They don't seem too keen on fixing them, nor do they seem too willing to communicate directly with their end-users to. With practices like these, Google could very well be the next Microsoft.

Slam against the software giants complete, I am off to shower and then head to work. I've been a lot under the weather the past few days, and tomorrow's stint at the county Democratic convention may be just well-enough timed to give me some of the rest I require but am so hesitant to take. Oh, and I'm racing next Sunday, too. Check back the afternoon of the sixth to find out just how hysterical (or tragic) that will be. Thanks for reading.

To Race or Not to Race?

I told myself I would not race in 2008. I broke that vow today by signing up for the Longhorn 70.3 that takes place in October. Right now, instead of cleaning my wreck of a house, I am debating whether or not to register for an Olympic-distance race that will be held up at TSR in early April. Yeah, as in a few weeks. Yup, it's primed for one of those "Gee, imagine if I would've trained" reminisces that seem so popular on this site.

Rather than act irrationally, for the Longhorn did rely upon much thought and was possible only because of some significant savings on a major purchase (shh...it's a secret!), I will wait on deciding upon the Spenco Olympic. Same goes for BSLT 70.3 (N--- wants to go view the course, for it is her goal to race it after finishing graduate school), and any other race for that matter. It would likely work to my advantage to wait, as I emailed off to SportKilt tonight touting the glories of the Hiking Kilt and a casual request for sponsorship. In any event, I'm going to need to pick up my training in order to have even a good showing on the Parkway. Fortunately, I'm feeling frisky after this morning's session with Y Knot; L--- rocks as a PT.

The clock on the computer reads 10:19 PM, which means it's likely closer to 10:30. I really need to go get my butt in gear on house cleaning. N--- is coming over tomorrow, and it'd be a shame to have her truck cleaner than my house.

Stay tuned to find out how the racing goes (or doesn't). As always, thanks for reading.

Extreme DVD

My DVD player crapped out on me the other day, so I headed over to the local Sony outlet store and eyed a 400-disc changer for a hair over one C-note. My walkout price, including extended warranty was $149, a fraction of what I paid for my first DVD player. I get it home, get it loaded and am floored by the quality over my previous Denon player. Trouble is, the changer is friggin' huge. Plus, programming data for the ~150 DVDs that did not have pre-coded data looks to be a right pain in the rumpus. Do I really need a 400-disc changer? Do I really want to spend the rest of my spring break programming DVD data?

Hmm...as I type this, I think I have found my answer. It's back to Sony I go...

The Invisible Hill

Spring Break is finally here. Nine whole days without the pressures of school. The kids get to go to the coast (or wherever it is they actually do go) while the teachers get to...grade. This one gets to ride his bike, too.

The break started out nice enough. Friday night: Softball game, ride home (including seeing B--- -- haven't seen him in a coon's age!), quick trip to San Marcos to pick up a new DVD player. Saturday: 50-mile ride with SAW in the morning, followed by a lovely afternoon with N--- (she's feeling better now [thank you for your concern]), including a hike around Friederich Wildernessl Area. I am so looking forward to this trail running thing. Sunday: Rest & recovery day, including a workout at the gym, where my right leg reminded me it's still FUBAR'd and needs some attention. That'll come tomorrow & Wednesday.

Today found me out on my bike again, this time for a 68-mile round-trip jaunt out to the lake and back. The 'back' part was a real bear, too, as the wind was howling at gale-force velocity the entire trip. Going out wasn't so bad, as it was mostly to the rear (never a direct tailwind), but once I turned on to River Road in Sattler, the ride exploded in toughness. Yes, there was the aforementioned wind, but River Road is apparently undergoing some repairs and is extremely rough over about a two-mile stretch. Thank heavens I was on an aluminum bike to allow me to feel every bump, jump, and jaw-rattling piece of the road. True, I complain today, but I know I'll be grateful I did the ride a few months from now, when the rest of the roadies are only then riding into shape with their assorted challenges. Glad I can get (most of) mine out of the way now.

And, speaking of challenges, my right leg. It completely cramped up on me yesterday in the pool, making me thankful that I've a doctor's appointment scheduled for tomorrow morning, followed by an appointment with a PT on Wednesday (she called during my ride this morning -- thanks, L---!). Between the two of them, I'm hoping this thing can get taken care of, pronto. I'm tired of not firing at anything resembling 80%, let alone anything higher.

Which now leads me to question if I should completely dis racing this season, as planned. Yes, it's expensive as all get-out, but there is one I'd kind of like to do: Longhorn IM 70.3. I'd also like to do Buffalo Springs again, but I know that's just out of the budget, what with race fees, travel, and lodging. The former, however, is not until October, so I've some time to mull it over. Incidentally, I didn't race the Blue Norther'. R--- did and had a decent showing, too, finishing 29th OA & 4th in AG. Good show.

Now that I have overcome that is the unending, invisible hill that is the howling wind, I need to overcome the second one: the general lack of will to work on my school stuff. The snoozing cat in my lap is of little use in the department, so methinks I'll put some tea on for a start...see where it goes from there.

Enjoy your week, be it at work or on break. Thanks for reading.

Holla if Ya Hear Me!

Quick post to brag about the morning.

Rode the commuter to breakfast with the boys, which was a great spin workout on a horribly humid morning. Got home, slipped into the Mizunos and took off for a 3.53 out & back on Live Oak. Time: 25:50. Pace: 7:19. Thank you, Tupac.

Now I just need to see about getting my transition times down in readying myself for work. Check back Sunday to see if I decided to do the Blue Norther' Du and how that went, if I did. Thanks for reading.

T-2 Days & Counting

Spring break is almost here. I can hear it. I can smell it. I can say that most every day has been planned, with work taking up a good chunk of it. Yeah, teachers get lots of time off every year.

I'd intended to check in sooner, after that horrible post this past Monday, but I didn't make it back in due to technical duties. Dude, R--- got a Dell...and I got it back up & running. A corrupt registry file, a quick reinstall of Windows, and a near eternity spent trying to hunt down drivers & shiznit for the the accursed laptop. Lucky for me, the original owner was able to be located and he still had the driver CD. Yes, life is good.

For me, anyway. N---'s been under the weather, so I got to play Nurse D tonight, picking up medicines & OJ so thick with pulp, one needed a spoon to get it out of the container. Sure hope that does the trick. Buying Benedryl & fruit juice is about the extent of my medical training.

Time to recharge my own batteries for a bit. Will post again once I'm back at max capacity. Thanks for reading.

Movie Night

I thought I had seen some of the worst films around, considering my past with RHPS. Tonight, however, it was proven to me that there is always something worse than the worst movie you've ever seen. Tonight, it was the 1963 "classic" The Raven.

Starring Vincent Price, Boris Karloff, and some other biggie of 1960s horror movie fame, this film was intended to be based upon the poem of the same name by Edgar Allan Poe. Apart from the title and a few stanzas, the film had precisely squat to do with the poem. The only bright side is that by suffering through it tonight, I have saved myself from the fateful mistake of waiting until class on Wednesday to watch it...three <expletive> times.

After The Raven, I popped in a 25-minute short of Poe's "The Tell Tale Heart" and felt melancholic enough to not need RHPS to cleanse my memory of The Raven. I ended the video orgy with Sir Ian McKellen's adaptation of Richard III, which was perfectly timed to Richard's great fall and the buttoning of the last button on my last shirt. How nice.

Lame post tonight, but I just wanted to share with you my miserable experience of The Raven. May you never have to suffer through anything so horrible. Ever. Actually, I guess it's too late for suffering through horrors to the eyes if you've made it this far, but, still, thanks for reading.

Miles and Miles of Texas

This past weekend was the inaugural Texas Independence Relay, a 207-mile relay off-the-charts ultra marathon. It tested every aspect of every athlete participating in it. Apparently, my mantra from the 2007 racing season continues: "Gee, imagined if I would have trained."

TIR was broken into forty legs, not including a prologue and epilogue. The pro & epilogues would be run by the team as a whole, while each of the forty legs would be run by individual members of the team. The team fortunate enough to have someone of my intensity, especially with regards to training (refer to aforementioned mantra to discover just how serious I am about training), was composed of eight employees of N---'s workplace (including N---), a trio of teenage cross country runners, and mois. Our team name was "San Antonio Soles," and, while not my personal preference for a team name, it apparently didn't hurt us, nor did my running each of my legs in a skirt.

Get Ready
The lead-up to TIR was typical of my racing the past year or so: Train at the absolute minimum due to either work or weather. To a certain degree, I think it was even below the minimum, as I seem to still be somewhat recovering from my post-White Rock injury (yeah, that one; it's been, what, nearly three months?). Funny thing about the whole knee bit is that running the 27.49 miles this past weekend seemed to have helped it. Weird, I know.

Somewhat of a training schedule was attempted, though, mostly focused around multiple 10ks on the Parkway. Unfortunately, the weather 'round these parts has been wackier than usual, so most of those planned 10ks were sidelined. Other than the final leg of the relay, it didn't seem to affect me much; my times were decent, considering how out of shape I was (and still am; where the @#%* is spring?), how far I had to run, and my absolute lack of adequate nutrition over the weekend. But I get ahead of myself.

Come race morning, N--- & I headed to the Institute to meet up with the rest of the team. I kind of didn't like that I had to drive the 30+ miles THE OTHER WAY before going to Gonzales, but the company made it worthwhile. The plan was to meet at 4:45, so N--- & I were there, ready to roll by 4:30. We didn't get under way until well after 5:00, making it look like we weren't going to make it to our registration time of 6:30...but, we did. With a superb striking of a gong (don't ask; I didn't) by N---, the Soles were on course, covering the 1.13 mile prologue in just over ten minutes. From there, it was into the van and off to Shiner to wait for our van to become active. Killing time in a doughnut shop, I graded some papers and took a little jog around the block to loosen up my legs; it was supposed to be eight hours before my first leg. Yeah, supposed to be.

Remember those cross country runners I mentioned? Thanks to their speedy leg work, as well as the concerted efforts of everyone else on the team, we were running nearly 90 minutes ahead of schedule. By the time S--- was spotted heading towards the red tent, I was stretched, hydrated, and ready to run, SportKilt and all. As S--- slapped the band on my wrist to start my leg, I glanced at the time: 2:42. This was going to be an awesome race.



Leg #1: Stage 11: Flatonia to Schulenberg
The 6.36 miles were completed in 50:06, averaging 7:52. While disappointed at not having hit closer to a 7:30 mile, I had to keep in mind several things: 1) It was hot; 2) I was unfamiliar with the terrain; 3) I'd been up without sleep since 3:30 in the morning; 4) I was hungry; 5) I still had three more legs to run before this was all said & done.

J--- ran after I did, so after his leg, we decided to head into Columbus for dinner. Most of the van went to Whataburger for burgers, but there was a Denny's next door, and a real, sit-down style meal was just too tempting. For the record, it would be nearly 1:00 the next afternoon, which made my French Toast Slam all the tastier, even in retrospect.

Leg #2: Stage 21: Eagle Lake - Chesterville
Darkness spread its cloak over the TIR in grand fashion. Stars sequined the cloak, bringing back childhood memories of stargazing and a feeling of heartache that, save a worldwide power failure, I would never see a sky like that near my home ever again. Sigh.

Digression aside, the evening legs would prove to be everyone's best, given the perfect running conditions. Granted, some stretches were somewhat scary, most of all, S---'s crossing of some river whose name escapes me. The promised police officers were either late or otherwise not there, making for what could have been a rather harrowing crossing, but the Department of Public Safety arrived shortly before S--- did at the bridge. True, the conditions were not idyllic, but S--- did make it across safely, as, apparently, did all other runners.

My leg would begin just after 9:30 that night, a 6.76-mile journey from the middle of nowhere to the edge of nowhere. However, I knew N--- was waiting for me, so I hurried myself as quickly as I would allow, given that I knew I had two legs remaining and that sleep would be a luxury we were likely to have to do without. Time for this leg clocked in at 52:09, averaging 7:40/mile. This was closer to my intended target pace. Too bad it would be the closest I would get.

Leg #3: Stage 31: Hershey Trail - Houston
"Bigfoot is scared of rhino noises."

Such was the advice of another team awating their runner in George Bush Park a little after four in the morning. Closer to the city, the stars had been drowned out by the glow of the gluttonous lights of H-town, making for an incredibly dark run. My headlamp, though, kept my path illuminated, including the "Bridge Out - 1 Mile" sign I spotted fifteen minutes into my run. Thankfully, the bridge was not really out, and I traversed the 6.79 miles without incident, save the loss of my reflective belt when I shed my long-sleeve shirt shortly after crossing the aforementioned bridge; the humidity was horrible.

Malnutrition was beginning to take its toll on me by this point. My stomach was in knots prior to the start of the stage, but mercifully subsided for most of the run. By the time I finished, I was famished, and my time reflected that the stage that remained to be run would be the most difficult of all. For stage 31, though, I managed a pathetic pace of 8:36/mile, racking up a stage time totaling 58:28. I suck but would suck more before we made it to San Jacinto.

Leg #4: Stage 38: South Houston - Deer Park
Daybreak brought no relief to my stomach. I was on the verge of hurling what remained of my Denny's feast from the evening before and the few bananas and Clif Bars I'd managed to ingest since when I spotted J--- making his way to me. He looked how I felt, and I knew I would look even worse at the conclusion of the next 6.45 miles. Just shy of an hour later, I would be proven correct. Sometimes, it wouldn't be so bad to be wrong, and I do wish this could have been one of those times.

There were some memorable spots to this leg, though. In addition to getting "Chick'd" (all-woman's team whose slogan on the back of the team shirts stated, "You just got CHICK'D") by a former Olympian, a support van helped me with navigation, hydration, and encouragement -- the latter provided in a Scottish accent, no less. Funny how the Scotsman was about the only one on-course not to comment on my attire (law enforcement seemed to like it; gang bangers cruising the hood Sunday morning didn't), but I, again, digress.

Stage 38 proved itself challenging for more than just the exhaustion, though. Myriad turns and obstacles (cars, brush, dogs, aforementioned gang bangers) made the course particularily difficult, but not insurmountable. Once I got my bearing on the directions and realized how close I was to the finish, I was able to pick up the pace some, but would prove to be trivial, for my finishing time for the 6.45-mile Sunday morning jaunt through the neighborhood clocked in at 56:26; 8:45/mile. Still, I didn't care, but for the .36-mile epilogue, my running for the Texas Independence Relay was over. Yee--haw.



What Doesn't Kilt You...
N--- brought the team home in style. Her form looked great, and the smile on her face, all the way to the finish, was a site for tired, sore eyes. Not to be outdone by her boyfriend in his kilt, N--- even wore a sport skirt as she brought us all home.

And so we finished. Total team time was 29:12:43 (8:36/mile) to cover the 207 miles and miles of Texas. Out of 63 teams in our division, we finished 19th. After crossing the finish, we received our finisher's medal (hefty things, too, although bailing wire, instead of the red zip ties, would have been a nicer touch), pizzas (warm food!), and beverages. Faces stuffed, we piled back in to the vans and headed home...well, to S---'s parents' home, first, for a much-needed shower. Gotta say, were it not for that post-race shower, the mid-race shower (and hour or so sleep) in the hotel rooms S--- scored for us using her rewards points, and the uber-comfy support van, the experience would have been drastically different. Thank you, S---, for everything.



Of course, thanks goes out to everyone on the team. The crew in van #2 totally rocked, for, apart from my snap when trying to navigate out of downtown H-town, not a harsh word was to be had amongst us all. Van #1 was just that, too, for, were it not for the cross country super stars, our pace would not have been as high as it was.

A poet once wrote that "a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." Thankfully, he didn't have to smell us or our vans, for we smelled anything but sweet. However, a team by any other name, or with any other people at the helm or on the run, would not have had the soul to survive the intensity of the 2008 Texas Independence Relay. That's not to say I'm definitely running it again next year (TIR's proximity to TAKS is a major detractor, plus, I'm still considering IMAZ for 2009), but were I to, I can think of no better teammates to have.

Long post, I know, but thanks for reading.

TIR is Here

After several months and virtually no training, my first 'race' of the season is here. Fortunately, it's being run more for the fun than for time, but the Texas Independence Relay will be challenging. My bags are packed, and I need only pick up my groceries. Hope there's enough room in the SUV S--- has secured for our use.

The girls' basketball team played in the state semifinals tonight up in A-town. I played chaperon, but it went remarkably well. We were back at the school and all the kids were picked up & gone by a few minutes past ten. Far better than any of the swim meets last season.

I feel inclined to write more, but my eyes are heavy and my mind is wasted; today was a long day. The next several days promise to be every bit as long, only with several 6+ mile legs thrown in to wear me down physically, as well. I can't wait.

Wait I must, though, before writing more. Remember the Alamo and remember to check back for another update next week. Thanks for reading.

All the HITS.

What a day. I'd hoped/planned to be in bed around 9-ish this evening, but that didn't pan out too well (obviously, given the hour of this posting) due to a death in the family.

Mum called to let me know A--- had been discovered dead by some guy she had been living with. Aunt D--- is still in shock, and I guess I am, too. I've not talked with or seen A--- in nearly ten years, but I feel that hers was a lost life, finally lost. Sad. We read about people like this with great frequency but seldom connect that these people were real, with a real family, with dreams that were forever deferred.

I went & stayed with Mum for the evening, as Dad was at a church meeting and was unaware of the sadness that had encircled his house. The time was spent comforting Mum, trying to comfort N--- (on the phone; she'd had a rough day at the office), and finally getting around to grading those extra-credit papers I assigned nearly a month ago (eh, grades aren't due until Monday; I have time). Once home, it was time to ready the lessons for tomorrow and then request a return for a cell phone I stupidly bought in the wee hours of Tuesday, during a marathon grading session. Never, ever shop online for something you only think you might need when really, really tired. Phone turned out to be a piece (slick design, but entirely too kiddy & toy-like for my needs; not sure how D--- has managed with his, but he is with a different provider in a different city), so back it goes, providing the company permits it. Their stated online return policy is not in agreement with what's printed on the back of the invoice, nor does it jive with the online RMA request form. Hope I don't get screwed for more than the $30 I paid for overnight shipping. God, I am a putz. Actually, I'm more than that: I am a tired putz.

Now that that's straight, I'm going to drag myself off to bed. I still need to get my bag together for TIR and figure out what I'm going to eat this weekend whilst on the road. All the HITS, indeed. And, yes, "HITS" is an anagram; enjoy.

I'm off to bed. With the road trip to the game in A-town tomorrow, my next post won't be until Monday, at the earliest. Hope this tides you over real nice-like. Thanks for reading.

Readin', Writin', More Readin'

It is 2:43 in the morning, and I have just finished reading my fourth & sixth periods' essays. And I still think I need to do an Ironman to prove how much of an endurance athlete I am? Then again, I think I would have finished an IM-distance race in less time than it took me to read, annotate, and grade this last round of ramblings from the land o' BS High.

Not much point to this posting, other than to say to someone that I am done. Yawp. Yawn. Good night.

Case of the Mondays

Hackneyed, and possibly even used on my site before, but I don't care; I needed a subject and it fit, for today was so much a Monday.

It began with the Monday morning traffic jam at the copier that likes to do just that. Fortunately, it cooperated today, and I got my copies run in (more or less) enough time. Skip a few mintues into first period and an interruption by the techies to berate me and my telephone configuration (typical: never a problem when the problem solvers are around), and you start to get an idea of how my day was going. Actually, it wasn't too shabby after that, other than my diet going to heck because of the amount of stress I perceive myself to be under. But then I got thirsty after lunch.

Only once have I been more disgusted by how water tastes, but that was at least in a public swimming pool. This stuff, from the drinking fountain, tasted like paint, minus the consistency. A few email exchanges with faculty confirmed something was amiss in the aqua, and, with the vending machines out of bottled water, I found myself out of luck for a drink -- the entire afternoon. Ugg.

About the only bit of good news that came about from today was my refund from the bout I had with identity theft a few weeks back. That, I hope, is now completely behind me, and I am back on track with being in the relative money. At least, I'm feeling pretty good about my finances at the moment. Let's hope lightning doesn't strike anytime in the next few dozen years.

I'm still sorely out of shape, despite my hammeresque performance this past Saturday on the SAW ride -- and with a blown bearing on my front wheel, thank you very much. Of course, there will be no cycling options this weekend, as TIR (Texas Independence Relay) starts in the wee hours of Saturday morning. I've my leg assignments and times, and it looks like I'll have a good 7+ hours in between running duties, making for a not-so-rest-deprived weekend as initially planned. Check back in a week or so for an update on how that panned out.

Um...not much else to report. Web site's coming along with updates, and I've my name in a couple more hats for sponsorship. After TIR, methinks I'll be hitting up SportKilt, et al for funding options, both for racing this year and my consideration of a run at Ironman. Arizona in the spring is out, given the mad preparation required for TAKS -- I'm off right now to grade the final batch of essays, as a matter of fact. Wonderful way to end such a relative waste of a day.

With that said, I'll quit wasting your time and go off to read my kiddos' writing. Thanks for reading mine.

Please, Make It Stop!

I thought that after Saturday, things would get back to normal. I would be able to sleep. I would be able to eat better. I would not be awake past midnight, typing my thoughts for you, the world, to read. Boy, do I feel foolish.

The school's production of High School Musical ended two days ago, and I'm still hearing those @$(*& songs in my head. I've prescribed for myself a steady diet of Cure and Nine Inch Nails, but, thus far, to no avail. It does help when I'm at work and my mind is heavily occupied, but get me at home, and it's a different story. Even now, with Year Zero blaring in 7.1 channels of super awesome stereo, I can still hear how "this could be the start of something new"; new my arse; this crap's getting old, fast. With daylight savings time fast approaching, I'm hoping to catch B--- out on a ride sometime and query him about that background, semi-subliminal technique he mentioned some churches have made use of and the likelihood of the Mouse House making use of it, as well. But, I digress.

It looks as though my last post was on the 10th, so, let's see what all has transpired since N--- ran her season PR at the Houston Half:

• I didn't bandit the Houston Half. Much contemplation, coupled with much bad-mouthing of yours truly and/or anyone who even thinks about banditting a race, made me rethink things. That, plus a tight calf muscle which debilitates running, kept me off the course, and in the Houston Convention Center, grading papers. How exciting.
  
• Annual post-holiday party in Big D at D--- & K---'s. Oodles of fun, as always, though I fear a separation growing between the former & me. Perhaps I'm just misreading, what, with everything going on in our respective lives. I would truly hate to lose a friend as good as he.
• Chat with N---'s dad about the future. Went well and has made me feel confident about where N--- & I are headed and how we're going to get there.
• Sponsorship from Rudy Project. Not the multi-million dollar deal I was hoping for, but the discount on shades & lids has been handy. I so cannot wait to race with my new Syton.
• Aforementioned wrapping of HSM. Wonderful show to have been a part of. Not sure if I'll go again if asked, for the time commitment was a bit more than I bargained for. Still, apart from the technical difficulties beyond the control of all parties involved with production, all comments have been positive; the kids (for the most part) truly acted like real professionals. Color me impressed.
• Texas Independence Relay is now less than one month out. Looking forward to it, despite the self-perceived pathetic condition I find myself in. I just think it'll be cool to do it.
• It's TAKS season. The big test is exactly one month from tomorrow, and I'm a little concerned. I've been unable to spend as much time on writing as I would have liked, but I hope to remedy that, beginning this week. I'll pull out the prompts and get the kids to writing. Well, that's the plan, anyway. Hope it works here; it did at HMS.
  

Year Zero is winding down, so I guess I'll cue up Disintegration and make my way to bed with TTC. Tomorrow is a whole new day and another chance to get a whole lot of grading done. I'll need to be on top of my game to ensure that gets done, too. So, good night, and thanks for reading.

Red Lining

A couple of weeks ago, I made a post detailing my personal dilemma over using Oakley sunglasses with a Rudy Project helmet for racing & training. In concluding the post, which took me some two hours to compose in the wee hours of a Sunday morning, I'd decided to continue using the Oakley shades and pass the RP lid off to commuting duties, where it wouldn't really matter what it was seen with; my commuting rig itself is a hodge-podge of parts. I thought I could put the (non)issue behind me and get back to the more important issues of the day.

Through a series of rather fortunate events, a dialogue with RP was opened, and I found myself the ultra-pleased recipient of a pair of SportMask sunglasses, one of RP's flagships for their current lineup. According to my contact at RP, this particular style will be available later in the year, but is, at present, possessed only by Chris McCormack, 2007 winner of Kona, and yours truly. Pretty effin' cool, I think.

(as a side note, I noticed that the custom design I created for my Radars last summer was the same that Sam McGlone wore for her debut at Kona -- once again, pretty effin' cool.)

While I've yet to run or ride with the shades (midterms are next week, and I was way behind schedule), I've tried them on and tried the lens swapping feature. Here's my assessment thus far:

• Unbelievably light weight (0.88 oz., according to the spec sheet)
• Slick adjustment via the nose piece (akin to the Tayo models [best sunglasses ever])
• Easy lens exchange, although I did notice some minor chipping on the overcoat of the Racing Red lens. This could have been a defect in the original manufacturing of the lens, though; I noticed no additional chipping with the two or three subsequent removals & reinsertions of the frame pieces from & to the lens itself.
• The red "Rudy Project" badges on the sides of the ear stems could get snagged, removing them from the ear stems. Should that (unlikely situation) ever occur, the badges appear to be easily replaceable.
• Hard carrying case is vastly improved over the cumbersome hard plastic case of glasses of yore, though its general design for dual-lens glasses eliminates the possibility of storing additional lenses for the SportMask, something hope to get resolved before this March's Texas Independence Relay

My plan is to sport them on the commute to work tomorrow, as well as at the Houston Half this Sunday (what do you think: should I bandit?) . I hope to eventually shift my entire sunglass array back over to RP (the hinges on the Oakley SquareWires are driving me batty), as well as replace my aging Atmos with something from Rudy (the RP helmet N--- got me for Christmas [the one that started all this ruckus] will be used for TT training, as well as for mountain biking)...maybe one of the older models, as the next gen stuff isn't available for another month or two; you can probably guess how impatient I am.

And thus ends my posting for tonight. It's getting late, and I still need to update my school Web site with next week's midterm info. I'll check back in after the weekend to say how N--- did, let you, my avid, sometimes rabid(?), readers know if I decided to bandit and how the SportMask did on its first few outings. As always, thanks for reading.

Yo-ga! Yo-ga!

I was feeling like absolute poop tonight. I really needed to get a swim in, and even made enough progress on the PAPE2 midterm to allow myself to go to the gym, but time got the better of me; lunch for the rest of the week still needed to be prepared, which included a trip to the grocer.

After talking with N--- (tomorrow's her birthday!), I changed into a pair of shorts and popped in a DVD I bought a few years ago, Yoga Conditioning for Athletes. I'd not done much of anything resembling yoga for several months, so I navigated my way through the DVD to the five-minute "mini" workouts, thinking I could handle that. Within seconds, I realized just how tight my body had become, but I persevered, stretching to the best of my (in)ability.

Who knew five minutes could make such a huge difference in one's physical & psychological well-being? When finished with the set, I felt completely rejuvenated, including nearly no pain in my right leg (it has since returned with some emphasis, but is much less noticeable than it was three hours ago.

And that's my two-bit post for tonight. I felt the strong urge to write something, but I didn't know where to begin. Yea, yoga.

I'm hoping to get a bit more sleep tonight, so my next posting should be a tad more coherent. Thanks for reading.

To Infinity, and Beyond

Today is the third day of the year 2008. It is the first day this week I have had Internet access at home.

When school let out for the holidays, I thought about signing on with this local ISP that provides a wireless solution for connectivity. Pretty ingenious, but pretty expensive, too -- at least for the startup. This ISP (which shall remain nameless, just in case they've any spiders out there, scouring the Web for people badmouthing them, regardless of how deserved such badmouthing may be) let me know they would be shutting down for the weekend and the ensuing holidays, but they would reopen on Wednesday, December 26th. I could then get signed up for wireless Internet service and be online in no time. No problem, and off I went to have a very merry Christmas.

Come Boxing Day, I called AT&T to cancel my service with them, disconnecting gramma's old telephone number in the process. I then trotted across the street to be greeted by a sign indicating they (the wireless ISP [shall I call them WISP?]) would be closed through the 26th, reopening on the 27th. No problem, thought I, as my AT&T service was to be active until the 27th. Goodness, was I ever mistaken.

On the morning of the 27th, my service was off-line, as promised. I made for the WISP when they opened at the early hour of 10:00, and had my contract & credit card ready for service, with the exception of one question on the contract: They wanted my mummy's maiden name. The WISP agreed to an alternate security question (after erroneously informing me that mother's maiden name was required by the DHS), so I signed on the dotted line and was promptly told it would be Monday (12/31) before my service could be connected: A technician needed to go on-site to plug in the access numbers into their proprietary piece of wireless hardware. When the lady behind the counter was queried for the reasoning, she had no real answer to speak of, stating there was not an ISP out there that would provide IP addresses for its servers. I retorted that every ISP I've ever dealt with did, she suggested I go sign up with them. I snatched my credit card and contract, told her I would, and left.

Five minutes later, I'm on the phone with AT&T, letting them know that I had made a grave mistake and wished to come home. They were more than forgiving, but could not return the old phone number to me; something to do with order processing time. Fine, no problem...new starting point for me in the house, or something. By 2:00 that afternoon, telephone and DSL service were back online. Life was again good. At least, until Monday.

Monday morning, I get up to go ride with J--- and a few other guys from Spectrum to Castroville (75-mile recovery-type ride out near Castroville). Trouble was, the Internet service was down, so I couldn't check weather temperature in SA-town, wind chill, and so on. What ever; I'd check it when I got home. And I did. Nobody at AT&T had an answer for me. The order that was put in the preceding Thursday (12/27) for service, could be open as late as eight o'clock that evening, and I should call back if need-be. I did, and continued to do so through this afternoon. For what ever reason, the physical line in the house went south on me and needed to be serviced. After two visits from a tech and three phone calls to the phone company, my service appears to be back up & running at 100%. I'm almost there, myself.

Today was my first bit of real, physical exercise for the new year. Yeah, I took the Felt out for an 18-mile jaunt yesterday, but that wasn't all too tough, despite the strong cross winds and frigid wind chill. Today, I ran the Parkway, feeling the effects of too much food and not enough exercise over the holidays. I had got to get back in the habit of eating healthily and making use of the gym when the weather outside is not cooperating with what I want to do. Guess that's a good enough resolution to tack on to the one of taking better care of myself. Cool.

Also, there has been some interesting developments in the eyewear & helmet department(s), but I'll report on that some time down the road. For now, I need to write my portion of the junior's midterm and tend to some house chores before bed time. I plan on hitting the gym tomorrow morning before HSM practice at 8:30. Yes, I am a glutton for punishment. Happy New Year, and thanks for reading.

Mind Games

All this trouble over a bucket. A "brain bucket", that is, and for the past week, I've been worrying my pretty little head over the best options for my pretty little head.

See, N--- got me this new Rudy Project helmet for Christmas, complete with USAT decals & whatnot, and it is super-duper sweet. Trouble is, I've been running Oakley eyewear the past eight or so months, and, being the brand snob that I am, I just cannot mix and match the two...at least, not on the road. Further, sweet as the new RP helmet is, its color scheme doesn't match up too well with the rest of my gear, save the shoes I use for triathlon. To get around these dilemmas, I've been pricing Rudy Project eyewear and helmets, but I'm having a hard time justifying the additional costs involved for the former, to say nothing of finding something that satisfies my seemingly high standards. e-Rudy. om does have some nice closeout deals on both, but I'm not sold on those products' ability to please me; I don't want to settle.

To address the first issue (cost), I'm essentially screwed: Stick with Oakley, and I'll need to look at not only a new helmet (~$120+, depending on make/model), but also the cost of an additional lens for the Radar -- which I have only now learned how to replace. Should I opt for Rudy Project, I'm looking at a new helmet ($60 for a closeout special) and new casual glasses ($135 and up, depending on materials). Either manufacturer would require a new helmet for TT, but Oakley gives me more options, especially for looks.

Yes, when it comes to gear, looks are important: If you feel fast, you are fast. But, even if you aren't fast, you should at least look good. The RP lid does go well with my Sidi tri shoes, and the RP Freeon shades look good with everything I have, with the possible exception of my new running shoes; the Oakley Radar matches them perfectly.

Looking at the clock in the upper left of my screen, I see that I've been working on this post for over an hour -- nearly two. This is really <expletive> sad that I'm spending so much time & energy (to say nothing of potential money) on such a trivial issue. What I think I'm going to do is stick with Oakley. I already have both the sport and casual glasses, both of which are not only to my liking, but the former is also of my own design. The RP lid will be relegated to commuter duties, for which it is well-suited (nicer visor, bug liner, über-comfy fit), and I'll go with something along the lines of a Bell Sweep for road cycling...maybe even an XC model, too -- if I can get my arse out on my MTB more than once or twice a year.

With that said, I bid you a pleasant morning (even if it is 4:53 in the morning), and I go off to read Joyce and sip on some green tea. I do hope I'm not getting sick.

Stay warm. Happy New Year, and thanks for reading.

Rock, Rock On

Since February 10th, I have run 801.934 miles; a little over 400 miles of that was in preparation for the last 26.2, better known as the Wellstone Dallas White Rock Marathon.

My second marathon in my relatively short career as a runner (and I use the term loosely; despite my low mileage for the year, I still consider myself a cyclist), White Rock was also the second marathon for which I trained this year. After the debacle of Tri101, I refocused my training efforts on the San Antonio Marathon, but an injury sidelined me, and I did not think I would be able to be ready for it. So, White Rock it was to be, as a few folks from Steele were also running it. Misery, after all, does love its company.

Come race day, I was, indeed, miserable. The same injury that sidelined me from San Antonio continued to nag at me, though became somewhat migratory, moving from the lower ab area to the glutes, then to the hamstrings and knee area, before settling, in all places, in my neck & shoulder. Truly, I am at a loss for explaining any of it. I just suffered through the pain...probably better than what I did the weather.

The final email from the organizers of the Rock said to plan for "hot and humid" weather on race day. Come Sunday morning, it was anything but hot, anything but humid. Temperatures hovered in the low 40s and radar showed thundershowers scattered all over the Dallas metroplex. Joy.

With a slight change in apparel for the race, N--- & I headed off for the AA Center (um, that's American Airlines Center...where the Stars play) and the start of our respective races (she was running the half, again as a training run for the Houston Half). I did decide to don my SportKilt (worn with tri shorts this time -- I learned my lesson on traditional Scottish styles [use your imagination] at the SkirtChaser 5k), and I'm glad I did, for the kilt helped shield my legs from the bitter cold. Movement was not at all inhibited, and commentary from racers & spectators alike helped keep me motivated. However, I was not the most uniquely dressed runner on the course: A group of relay runners were wearing identical "Stewie" costumes, confirming that runners are a truly unique breed.

Okay, the nitty gritty.

My cohorts from work all finished within their target times, and I did too: My official finish time was 3:28:55 (hours:minutes:seconds), a new personal record, bettering my time from San Antonio 2007, by nearly three minutes. It wasn't quite the 3:20:00-ish finish I was shooting for, but for that, I blame my myriad injuries and my less-than-smart decision to chuck my gloves before making it to the lake. In reviewing my splits, I can see how my times started going down within a mile or two of confronting the whipping, chilling winds of White Rock Lake. I somewhat recovered the last few miles of the marathon, but by then, it was too late; my target time was shot. All the same, I am happy, for two reasons: 1) I set a new PR; 2) I can quit running so #(*& much and start riding my bikes again.

The 2007 competitive season is more or less at an end, so I can start thinking about 2008. In all honesty, I don't think I'll be racing much, but, as I am considering a run at IMAZ in 2009, a few key races will be necessary for fitness tests only. Up for consideration are at least two HIM distance triathlons, Tour de Gruene, San Antoino Marathon (now the "San Antonio Rock and Roll Marathon"), and the SunMart 50k trail race. Already set in stone are the Texas Independence Day Relay and Beach to Bay Relay Marathon. Providing I can keep constant with training for all three disciplines through the year (running will not be a problem, save continued injury), I should be in good shape for my sub-12 finish goal for IMAZ a year from April. If not...well, stay tuned to find out how all that goes.

For the "Thank Yous", it's the usual cast of characters, with a few new faces: D--- & K--- for inspiring me to "tri" and run in the first place; N--- for unbelievable support that would make even a pro envious; the R---s, for wonderful accommodations & hospitality; the Steele crew for keeping my psyched about the race as training dragged on; and, of course, my own family, both locally and in Dallas. The latter made the weekend every bit as memorable as crossing the finish line.

Winding down what will likely be the final posting for this year (unless I get SEVERELY bored during the winter holidays), I wish you a happy holiday season and thank you for reading.

Born Again?

I was ready to up & quit today.

Because Tri101 was canceled, I've been busting my bum the past few months to ready myself for the White Rock Marathon on December 9th. As a result, my swim & bike became virtually non-existent, save the occasional commute to work, and I literally could not tell morning from night when out for a run. This, joined with a nagging leg injury (got an appointment with a PT Friday next to try & remedy that -- just in time for the marathon!), had me in something resembling a pissy mood toward endurance sport training, be it marathon and even triathlon. I had doubts of formally setting my sights on Arizona in 2009.

Had doubts.

After a conversation with a fellow runner at school this morning, I got to thinking about things. Yeah, I'm fast. Not as fast as I could be, but I'm no pro (tri)athlete with an unlimited budget of resources. I'm just me: a high school English teacher with no one to answer to other than myself. While it does hurt the pocketbook when paying for stuff (race fees, bike parts, technical clothing -- and the list goes on), it is quite liberating when it comes to accounting for race results.

I skipped last night's scheduled 14-mile run due to the aforementioned nagging leg injury and a general will to not want to run for two hours in the dark. I did, however, make it out tonight for a light, 6-mile trek up & down the Parkway. While on this trek, I again became energized on making a good run at White Rock next weekend, even if I will have to drive back from Dallas by myself (N--- has been summoned to another training the following week; she flies out of Dallas that afternoon; merd). As for IMAZ, it's still up in the air. I've some time before registration opens, plus by not taking the crash-course method to training that has been so common to my marathon training these past two years, I think I can avoid the burnout. Then again, I'm also counting on some mad encouragement from my buddy D---, himself an Ironman.

For now, though, I'm going to take the snoozing kitty atop my lap into the bedroom, cuddle up and go to sleep. Thanks for reading, faithful readers -- and yes, I now know there are more than one of you. And so, a parting note: Like you, dear readers, I've encountered innumerable people in life, and some have been exceedingly dishonest. Unless mentioning someone by some semblance of a name (N---, D---, etc.), don't presume I'm talking about you.

Whatever your reason for reading, thanks for doing so.