cycling


3
Nov 25

Stealing daylight

Did you enjoy Catober? I have a great time with that daily feature. A cat a day really makes the month go by faster, content-wise. Somehow. You might think it puts a lot of pressure on the process. A photo a day of cats doing cute things! You’d be wrong. The only hard part is catching them in various places among their routines. And then keeping all of that straight. Capturing the moments is the easy part. Choosing which ones to use, that’s the impossible part. There are only 31 days in Catober, after all.

It started like this.

And it ended like this.

You can see the full collection on the Catober, just scroll back to see the whole month.

Except it hasn’t ended yet. I still have some great shots to share, and I’ll put them up tomorrow.

But today there are other photos. We, too, are experiencing the time change, which means a lot of seasonal changes. Which means the sun went down at 4:52 yesterday. Which means that, for the next few months, it will really feel like we’re stealing daylight.

That’s what yesterday’s bike ride was like. Soft colors and blurry textures and stealing daylight. And also reed grass.

Quite a bit of reed grass. That just comes with being a little close to the water, I guess.

The cover crops in this field are shockingly green just now. I’m used to seeing corn in there, but the season has, of course passed.

And in its place things are turning a delightful series of yellows and browns. Oh, it is nice for a time. Even the vibrance and vigor of that soon will fade. It’s just around the corner, or the curve, if you will.

Now it may look like it is getting dark here, but that’s just the trees. Besides, I still have about 14 miles to go from here. I didn’t know that at the time.

At the time I was just starting to figure out where I was going to go from here. First up the king’s highway, then Main Street, and then the old road, back into town. From there, it was a four-and-a-half-mile tempo ride home. No longer stealing daylight, but racing it.

Stupid seasonal change. Why can’t it be light until 8 or 9 p.m.? And also warmer. Not much, just five or 10 degrees, for outdoor purposes.

It was a productive night. Watched a football game. Got most of Tuesday’s class prep done, got some things graded and so on. And it continued on into today. I wrote some things that needed to be written, including a job ad for a student employee role. And I was on a roll. My big to do list for the week is already down to just four things.

Two or three more days like this will feel like momentum.

That’s the opposite of what I had on the bike today. I set out to ride my 40 km time trial, but I simultaneously realized that I didn’t have the legs I wanted for that, or the time I needed for that. So I changed my route, mid-route to make it back before dark. Instead, I did 35 km.

I could have totally made it.

And, then after dinner I finished up tomorrow’s work. We’ll see how that goes.


27
Oct 25

The You Have To Live Your Life rides

Over the course of three easy rides Saturday, Sunday and today, I got in 60 miles. These, and whatever else I can sneak in for the next two weeks, will be dubbed the You Have To Live Your Life Rides. I’m calling them that because of what the doctor said, now, two weeks ago. I wasn’t supposed to ride at all, for fear of bothering an incision. But when you have a little back surgery and you feel good you want to go out and say you rode the day after you had back surgery no matter how silly all of this is.

The doctor and I discussed this. I wasn’t supposed to do anything for two weeks, so I went on three easy rides in those two weeks. They were concerned about stretching the incision and tearing stitches. Not as much as me! I respected the doctor’s orders. But I couldn’t just sit still for two, maybe four weeks. But the point, on a road bike, is to keep your upper body still anyway. So I figured I could do that, and I had a few easy rides, just around the neighborhood stuff, not even trying to tax my legs. The weather, work, and my little procedure meant I only had three rides of 41 total miles in those two weeks. And, still, I felt like a blob.

In that discussion with the doctor I said I would not get in the drops. And I did not. I tried, briefly and only out of curiosity. It felt uncomfortable. So I rode on the hoods and at the stem. He said that the actual recommendation was three-to-four weeks, but you have to live your life. And so here I am, the beginning of week three, out enjoying the beautiful fall weather.

That’s a little branch off a creek off the river. Water comes up onto the road. The reflections are always nice. The traffic is light, and usually respectful.

I’ve gone through this little town, well, about 100 times or so now, let’s say. I’ve never noticed this little library before. I may have to donate some books to it.

I think I will wait, however, until after next week. The wolfman is lurking just a block or two away.

On Sunday afternoon we went out for an easy ride. It was not easy, because whatever I had that passed for fitness is gone, and we road into the wind at the beginning and I had to chase this one.

Sometimes you time these things just right.

And sometimes you just get lucky.

There are times when you can understand the moment, appreciate the perfection of it, the strain of what you’re doing, the purity of what you’re after, and how a perfect day can’t last. I should spend more time enjoying that than fearing the fleeting.

Anyway, yesterday was a beautiful day. I should have been out to enjoy more of it, because they don’t last forever. But responsibilities do.

I got out just a little bit earlier for an easy hour today, in between work chores, of course. You have to live your life.


17
Oct 25

Scenes from a bike ride

It was work work work. And at the end of the day, we took a bike ride.

There she goes, trying to get away from me.

And there I am, trying to keep up with her.

And there’s my lovely bride trying to pull away again.

We passed another guy on the road. He was on the wrong side of the road at the time. We passed him again as we headed back. Happily he was pointed the correct way that time.

Cruising by some corn stalks.

And some lovely silhouettes.

That’s where the weekend begins. And with some more grading tonight. So I’ll get to that, and you can pass the time enjoying the latest entries in Catober.


15
Oct 25

No one, absolutely no one, likes a censor

After a full day’s worth of working in the home office, we went out for a brief bike ride. I’m still taking it easy, so I did not push hard on the pedals, except when going uphill. And I stayed out of the drops, until the very end of the ride, when I decided to see what that’d feel like. I quickly decided to not do that. My back and I are in careful and close consultation throughout this recovery period.

We saw the sheep, though.

Then, just a few miles from home, we lost the sun.

A few farms later, we found it once again.

It was a 14-mile ride. And another easy one. It was just nice to be outside. Perfect gilet weather, too.

Last night a colleague in Texas shared with me a photo from a mutual colleague in Indiana, which I am assured is a real place, though I’ve never heard of it. The photo was a letter, an incredibly abrasive pink slip. The recipient of that letter had shared it himself, and this was part of a series of events that will be a national story by tomorrow, or Friday at the latest.

What happened, the student media adviser at Indiana University was fired. The incendiary letter framed the dismissal as a “lack of leadership and ability to work in alignment with the University’s direction for the Student Media Plan is unacceptable,” but this is a move toward censorship. My colleague was fired for doing his job: standing in defense against censorship.

Here’s the first story written in the professional Indy Star, fittingly written by First Amendment reporter Cate Charron, a former editor-in-chief of the IDS. And, most importantly, here are the current editors of the highly regarded, and directly impacted, Indiana Daily Student.

Media School Dean David Tolchinsky terminated Director of Student Media Jim Rodenbush on Tuesday afternoon after he refused to censor the Indiana Daily Student.

Ahead of our Oct. 16 newspaper, which was to include a Homecoming guide inside, the Media School directed us to print no news in the paper, an order blatantly in defiance of our editorial independence and the Student Media Charter.

“… nothing but information about homecoming — no other news at all, and particularly no traditional front page news coverage,” read Rodenbush’s Oct. 7 email to the IDS co-editors-in-chief, relaying the IU Media School’s directive.

Telling us what we can and cannot print is unlawful censorship, established by legal precedent surrounding speech law on public college campuses.

Administrators ignored Rodenbush, who said he would not tell us what to print or not print in our paper. In a meeting Sept. 25 with administrators, he said doing so would be censorship.

“How do we frame that, you know, in a way that’s not seen as censorship?” Ron McFall, assistant dean of strategy and administration at the Media School, asked in that meeting.

Read the whole thing; it’s quite the stinging letter aimed at the Media School and the university as a whole.

We’ve been gone from there for two-plus years, so I know the prologue, but not the details of what’s transpired recently. I know what I’ve read, how the faculty have no trust in the university president, how everyone on campus still has an acid taste in their mouths after being under a sniper rifle last year, how the university is desperately trying to make the president’s plagiarism problem go away, and how the university is intent on reshaping itself in modern social contexts. (Indiana is a long, long, long way from Herman B. Wells.) I know those things from following the work of the IU student media.

I also know those people. Rodenbush, the now fired adviser, I worked alongside for about five years. That dean? I gave him a tour of the Media School when he was applying for the job. The last quote from that other guy? That quote makes perfect sense coming from him. Go read that again.

There are others in the Media School apparently involved, who are, frankly, not worth the time to type about.

Much will be made of budget issues. In the last few years, for budget reasons, the paper has endured staff cuts and slashed production runs. But student newsrooms are first and foremost learning laboratories. You must allow the students the opportunity to learn to produce so that they are adequately, appropriately, prepared. The building that houses the IDS has a tremendous print newsroom, three television studios, a half-dozen or so podcast studios and even more editing suites. You teach people their craft in these spaces. And, at Indiana, they have always learned it well. I can’t tell you how many Hearst Awards have been won under the IDS masthead, or how many Pulitzer Prize careers the newspaper has launched in its 158 years.

I can tell you this. Now, for editorial reasons, they’re killing the newsprint altogether. Hours after they fired Rodenbush, the university canceled the paper’s print run.

This is a laughable demonstration of university censorship, by any measure. This was a letter the editors wrote today:

The Media School is more focused on censorship than real solutions for student media. Is this really the best use of the university’s resources? Or of ours? Editorial decisions, including the contents of our print product, firmly lie in the hands of the students.

This is not about print. This is about a breach of editorial independence. If IU decides certain types of content are “bad for business,” what stops them from prohibiting stories that hold them to account on our other platforms?

None of this surprises me. I worked in student media for 15 years, including at IU. I defended outlets against censorship, including at IU. I know the low regard that some in The Media School have for student media. There’s often a tension between student media and a university administration, particularly an administration of small caliber. All of this is sad and unfortunate and inappropriate and illegal, but it is not unpredictable.

Jim Rodenbush, who is a real pro, knew this was turning bad. His firing is unfortunate for him and his family, but he’s a great colleague and good at what he does; he won’t be down long.

The student-journalists at IU will suffer. In fact, they already are.

Think of them. They are college students. They have a full course load. Some of them work jobs. They also have lives and responsibilities and their own amusements and problems. They spend some (sometimes a lot) of their free time learning their craft in student-media. They do this in public. They learn in public. They make their mistakes in public. They are often very impressive. They deserve respect. Instead, these people, at 20- or 21-years old feel as if they have targets on their backs. placed there by university and school administrators, people that seemingly do not understand journalism, censorship, the First Amendment, or the true value of student-journalists.

The student body, indeed, the city itself will lose out. Bloomington is almost a newspaper desert at this point. Public media, devastated nationally, is under all sorts of transitions on that campus — who knows what becomes of that. Major media is an hour up the road.

And now, the famed Indiana Daily Student — the third largest employer on campus, winner of 25 Pacemaker Awards (the collegiate equivalent of the Pulitzer Prize) and previously an incredible recruiting tool — has been reduced to a website and an app.

Letters are being written. IDS alumni are distributing a joint protest letter for signatures. There’s a formal alumni association letter in the works. The journalism faculty will speak up soon, I assume. The name of the great Ernie Pyle, the most famous IDS alumnus, will be invoked. The Student Press Law Center is poised. The story has just begun.

Students will cover it.


13
Oct 25

Recovery began right away

I’m feeling fine, thanks. I had a little procedure Friday. Because there was a cutting implement and blood and gauze and stitches, I’m calling it a surgery. Look, I walked out of the room and to the car and had lunch after, so clearly no big deal. It was a dermatology thing, removing a small spot on my back. So I had back surgery. That’s how I’ll tell the tale. It was a preemptive sort of thing. They put some gauze and tape on me, I pulled my t-shirt on, and they re-taped it because that move loosened the tape.

This has been the extent of it. I woke up Saturday and felt pretty terrible. It’d been probably 12 or so hours since I’d taken any Tylenol and I tend to sleep on that side. So once a new OTC dose kicked in and I started moving around, it was fine.

In the medium term, I can’t do anything that involves a lot of exertion for two to four weeks. In the short term that has meant discovering which movements don’t hurt. Nothing too big and sweeping. Also, no sudden movements. And don’t pick up anything heavier than a gallon of milk. So, eight pounds. And I can’t lift and bend anything. So I’ll put my empty backpack on a chair or table, and then put my computer in it and that’ll be about it. And also the cats.

Not in my bag, just in general. I’ll pick up the cats.

In the long term the location of this incision is the primary problem. It is very near the shoulder blade. Now, for the purposes of wound healing, just imagine how much you use your arms and shoulders in a day.

But it feels OK. At its worst it feels like a sharply pulled muscle. In a way, it is very similar to that. And while it is in a tricky spot, the incision is helpful in letting me know if I am about to do too much. So I’m not doing too much.

You can, I’ve learned, sit awkwardly on it. That’s no fun.

Anyway, stitches out in 12 days. And then whatever new restrictions or limitations I’m given.

Of course, I was on my bike the next day. I am a cyclist. We came home from the skin pro’s office and I stood over my bike, just to see what it’d feel like. They said no heavy exertion. You’re not supposed to move around a lot on your bike anyway. I figured I would soft pedal, keep my hands on the hoods or at the stem, because if I went down to the drops that’d change my body position and might involve a flexing of the shoulders and back. So Saturday I clipped in and went around the loop our house is on, fully committed to go back inside if it felt bad. It felt fine.

I rode around on some neighborhood roads, just to be outside and say I pedaled a little bit that day. I got in about 10 miles. It was 40 minutes or so and I didn’t even work up a sweat. (You’re just going to have to let me do something over the course of two to four weeks, and this I can do.) Also, for that first day, I chose quite neighborhood roads that looked like this.

I went over and checked on the horses.

Also, I saw their neigh-boring friend.

And I noted that one of our other neighbors, who has a nice little herd of cattle, has stocked up the hay barn.

That was it. A super easy spin the day after back surgery. (We’re calling it that.) If I become a legendary athlete, we’ll point to this as one of those defining moments in my story.

More likely, we’ll just be looking at the flowers — but you never know.

This bush does not stop, and I respect its output a great deal.

And the bush daisy still looks wonderfully inspired.

We have this small planter hanging on the fence that cordons off the little vegetable garden. This year, despite however many seeds we put into the thing, it gave us nothing until just now, this beautiful little specimen. I’m glad I stopped by for a closer look.

And now, back to work. We’re talking about two new stories in my criticism class tomorrow, and audiences in org comm. I have decided to turn my dislike for fans, some of ’em anyway, into a comical presentation about social identity theory. So I have to finish those notes, and find the gaudiest team gear I have, to help prove the point.