cycling


17
Aug 13

Thoughts on the Peachtree City Tri

I don’t want to use the word with any seriousness as it applies to me — we’ve had a lot of fun chats with people this summer about what allows you to use the word — but we woke up at 3 a.m. for a triathlon, so, today, I’m going to call myself a triathlete.

Said that before the race. Before the signing in, the body markings, the struggling to make sense of a narrow transition area, the restless, nervous and giddy waiting for the time trial swim start.

I stopped thinking that in the water, where I started thinking about I should get serious about swimming. Which means figuring my shoulder out, etc and ad nauseam. In the water I’m just hanging on, trying to finish and save some energy.

And, this morning, I helped save a woman. I came up alongside her just as she stopped swimming out and started swimming up. I asked her if she was OK, but she didn’t say anything. When I pulled just a bit in front of her I noticed her eyes were glassy and she looked like she was climbing a ladder. Went back, touched her elbow, talked to her and she didn’t even know I was there.

In these open water swims they have canoes and jet skis and kayaks to help people. I held her up while someone summoned over a nearby kayak and she grabbed on. I saw her later, I think it was her, on the bike. She was going out as I was coming back. And she looked good. But scary nonetheless.

I pedaled hard on the bike, looked down at the computer and realized I wasn’t halfway done with the ride, but rather just a few miles into it. And then a mile later I threw my chain. So a lot of people that shouldn’t have passed me. Later I’d pass a lot of them back. Without that chain problem I would have had a great ride.

This race runs through a planned neighborhood and all the nice people came out to cheer the racers on, which was pretty cool. They had bleachers up near the finish line. More people were braving the rain and unseasonably cool — I’ve never shivered in August, before today — to urge you into the run and congratulate you when you return.

The run weaved down a golf cart path through the woods, alongside the lake we just swam through and back again. Too many people passed me on the run, but that was to be expected.

My time was more than expected, which was disappointing. But I finished with a smile and I didn’t finish last. So at least those two goals were met.

Great day for it. Good race. Poor triathlete.

(The Yankee, of course, had a great race.)


16
Aug 13

The Unofficial Unified Swampers Theory

Greasy, if Aretha Franklin says it, is a good thing.

That’s not far from one of the places where I grew up. Aretha, in the Apple promo says “You just didn’t expect them to be as funky or as greasy as they were. This documentary looks great, if only to answer the question ‘Why Muscle Shoals?’

Which is the same as asking ‘Why not anywhere else?’

I have a theory, he said to the surprise of no one. Look at this map:

Think of all of the music that has come from the rough diamond of Memphis, New Orleans, Atlanta and Nashville. All of these places are where the Mississippi basin, the Delta, the Smoky Mountains, countless churches and a wide rural storytelling tradition meet. Inside the diamond is much of Mississippi, Birmingham and, right there, Muscle Shoals. There’s a lot of lyrical fertility in there.

Music comes from all over, but there’s a timeless quality — as pop culture goes — to a lot of the things produced in and around that little diagram.

Rode a bit this afternoon, just spinning little circles with my feet over to the bike shop. Bought new tubes and some drink supplements.

The nice thing is you can go over there in spandex and they don’t even blink. They get you in and out real quick. Can’t have you scaring everyone off.

I hit the last hill, the one we live on, and topped it in one gear. Usually it takes a third of the cassette. And I did it at a speed I can’t even average and that’s going uphill.

So, naturally, I’m going to choose to believe that means I’m improving. But we all know better.

I visited a physical therapist today. He wanted to test out my shoulder. The first thing he did was jab his massive, muscular finger right down onto the tops of the screws in my shoulder.

I do not like him very much.

But he says there are problems I shouldn’t have a year-plus later, so he’s sending me to a nationally renowned orthopedic guy. If I see that person next week as planned that’ll make my third ortho.

I’m starting to wish I’d noticed that chunk of wood that I hit last summer.

Things to read: Counting the Change:

In 2008 Jeff Zucker, then the president of NBCUniversal, a big entertainment group, lamented the trend of “trading analogue dollars for digital pennies”. But those pennies are starting to add up. And even Mr Zucker, now boss of CNN Worldwide, a TV news channel, has changed his tune. Old media is “well, well beyond digital pennies,” he says.

What has changed his mind? The surge in smartphones, tablet computers and broadband speeds has encouraged more people to pay for content they can carry around with them. According to eMarketer, a research firm, this year Americans will spend more time online or using computerised media than watching television.

And a Samford student wrote this one:

According to McCay, until recently, Alabama was seen as a “pass-through” state. Traffickers from other states take their “workers” and travel through Alabama to get to another state.

“Now that you see a Memphis girl being brought to Huntsville or Madison, you begin to think, ‘Ok, maybe we’re not just a pass-through state anymore,’ and we’re seeing more and more reports over the last several years that trafficking is in Alabama,” McCay said.

“It is happening,” McCay said, “and the thing that our task force is really trying to do is just raise the awareness primarily, just let people know that it is happening, get it on their radar. If you don’t know something is happening, how do you fix it?”

And I have to go to bed early tonight because I have to get up early tomorrow. Naturally I’ll be awake most of the evening. But I must try … Tomorrow, we race.

Hope you have a lovely weekend ahead of you.


14
Aug 13

Not the best day ever

I slept in, because I stayed up late, because I had a cup of tea and was wide awake for the next seven hours last night and early this morning.

So when I woke up the story was fully developed. A UPS plane had crashed on final approach into Birmingham. The pictures are horrific. The two pilots were dead. And, thankfully, for a change, I knew precisely where my step-dad was.

He flies out of the same hub as those two pilots. The co-pilot has been named, someone he doesn’t know. We’re still waiting to hear the identify of the pilot. The reporters at al.com have done an incredible job on the story if you’re interested in the latest.

I’m ready to turn away from it. I’ve covered stories about neighbors, became friends with people I covered over time. I’ve reported and written and read about some horrible things people to do to one another and have a healthy detachment.

But I’m invested a bit here, enough to set the whole day off. There were emails and Facebook and a few “That’s not him, is it?” questions.

It was not, but what could have been. I couldn’t tamp down the anxious feelings until the late evening.

sun

So I went out for a little bike ride in the rain, down through the neighborhood, around the roundabout and out the back. I planned to turn left, but as so often happens in the saddle I changed my mind almost mid-turn and went right.

The rain picked up and I smelled the river. The stagnant water at the boat launch. The still and mild decay of a fish. The synthetic carpet of a boat. The funky tinge of artificial bait that has been too long in the tackle box and couldn’t catch anything but weeds. There is no water there, but those were the smells. It made me think of my grandfather, and so I pedaled on.

I started having a tough time seeing through my sunglasses on the rainy, graying road. I enjoy a rainy ride, but this wasn’t quite the same. I hit a sprint stretch, wheeled to the right and realized I was cheating on all the turns. I blamed the new front tire. We don’t know each other yet. It doesn’t trust me to dive into turns yet. If I listen close the hum is saying what could have been?

I was dying on everything. But my socks were getting wet, so my feet were getting heavier and, thus, faster. That’s my theory, anyway. Doesn’t always work. I found myself shifting toward my easiest gears and climbing up the biggest hill of the day, which is no big hill. It is already a forgotten blur. So was most of the rest of the ride. Raindrops and panting. Chickening out in curves, full of unease about them, feeling my bike get lighter the few times I put in some speed.

Somewhere I picked up the smell of an old grandmother’s hairspray, baked in by decades of cigarettes. I don’t know why I smelled these things today, since I usually can’t smell anything. But I love being on my bike because it gives me time to think about things like that, the sensations, analogies and forgetting the whompwhompwhomp of my legs.

I took that picture above just before getting home, dawdling in the sprinkling rain and the purple and orange sky. I lingered to get the right fuzzy shot because a crisp one didn’t fit the mood. I took my time because getting home means going inside means cleaning my bike — the no-fun part of riding in the rain.

And there was still UPS plane talk. What could have been is such a bizarrely odd sensation. I got so distracted I almost gnarled two knuckles of my left hand in the spokes of my bike’s back wheel.

Here’s the last story I’m reading about it tonight:

More than 13,000 bags made by Freeset USA, a local nonprofit that provides jobs to women in Calcutta, India, were among the cargo lost when a UPS cargo plane crashed Wednesday morning near Birmingham-Shuttlesworth International Airport.

The company, which lost what amounted to its entire fall inventory of bags, has decided to begin selling a T-shirt to raise money for the families of the two pilots killed in the crash, according to a news release from the company.

[…]

The company is also worried about its 200 employees, mostly women freed from Calcutta’s sex trade.

People are donating via Twitter. Freeset’s Facebook page says they are working on the design. I know this company through Samford connections. They do incredible work and I’m glad they are involved here. Can’t wait to brag on them. That will be the best thing for a perfectly sad and strange day.


6
Aug 13

I put on sunblock for this

Woke up all ready for a nice calm medium length ride and found a flat.

The damage I did at that last triathlon had returned. The wound in the kevlar I found last weekend had fallen victim to some debris I picked up yesterday. I’ve ordered a new tire, but it hasn’t arrived yet.

liner

So I took off the old tire, pulled out the tube, found the leak was in the same place. Checked the liner there for any junk that’s going to hurt the next tube and cleaned the frame.

I have the my front tire died and my new one hasn’t arrived yet blues. A friend suggested there’s a song for that:

That song applies even when the bike is in working order..

And now I really want to ride.

(I really dislike sunblock.)


5
Aug 13

Things and the swing thereof

Mondays are Mondays. Mine are usually pretty great. Got in some important work and emailing.

Purchased and mailed a birthday card. (Happy Birthday to all the timely readers!) At the grocery store where I picked up the greeting card I saw this. I don’t mean to alarm anyone, but the championship trophy is shrinking.

trophy

I know because I had the pleasure of holding the trophy two years ago. It was the day this happened:

trophy

You see, Aubie “stole” the football trophy during the offseason, which led to a series promotional videos. (Happily the Trooper Taylor one is still on the site.) It all led to that home opener. Before the game we ran into someone we knew from the athletic department who was carrying the trophy in his backpack. He let us palm the trophy, Waterford crystal valued at over $30,000. It was bigger than this mockup.

Made a few business calls. Did some other work things. Work things? Yes, it is getting to be that time again.

Took a quick ride around town, one of those days where it didn’t feel especially good, but the time was an improvement. Looked down and the speed was faster. Only a mile per hour faster, which isn’t much given my baseline, but is enough to make the entire, familiar ride seem frantic. And even still I noticed new things in the textures of the road and the signs alongside it. I think that slightest increase of speed came from attacking a few hills a bit harder.

Then, on Red Route One, one of our speed segments where I just go as hard as possible for 10 minutes, I added some nice distance to my personal best. It is almost entirely downhill, I must confess, but it is great segment with one little roller and then a 90-degree righthand curve that lets you dive and accelerate for the next 500 meters. The last mile and a half is hard in the drops or in the ridiculous aero position.

I want to go ride it again just thinking about it.

Did I mention that this weekend I found another rode where I can break the speed limit on my bicycle? I think that makes three. Moving up in the world.

Not really. I’m still a terrible cyclist.

Chinese for dinner tonight. This was my fortune:

fortune

That might be my favorite one yet.

And now back to the emailing. I’m sending out varied tips to students who’ll run the newspaper and website this coming year. Lots of details. So many words. They’re just falling out of my fingers like rain.

Hey, rain. Told you we’ve had a wet summer. Some places on the coast recorded more than 20 inches. In July.

The two weather stations nearest us recorded a comparatively arid 8.8 inches and 10.10 inches in just the one month.