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cycling / music / Tuesday / video — Comments Off
28
Jan 25

The Thunder Song

I’m going to share this video and one or two from the encore and that’ll be it. So you like Guster and enjoy these, or you won’t have to deal with it for another day or two.

This one has acting and a song. It’s a musical! It’s bad acting, possibly deliberately so. It’s a comically, deliberately bad song. It’s possible that it is a deliberately bad musical.

Maybe this is the sort of comedy that requires familiarity with the subject matter to land. Maybe it works on it’s own, I dunno. But the Thunder God, Brian Rosenworcel, chews up the scenery every chance he gets, so trust me, it’s funny.

And if you think that this video being at the top of the post says something about the day, you’re correct! I spent the whole thing reading the first assignments of the semester. Nine down, 67 to go!

Doesn’t seem like so much when I say it like that, he thought, foolishly.

I did have my first ride in the better part of a week. I’ve been fighting a mild case of the sinuses since last Wednesday night. I’ve had much more annoying experiences with it in the past. This, even at it’s most frustrating with the late night coughing and the ragged sleeping, wasn’t all that bad. I have a lifetime of experience in this area, and I am familiar with the pattern. Yesterday, bowing to the onslaught of those little vitamin C supplements and regular doses of antihistamines and the liberal use of cough drops, my sinuses gave up. By Thursday or Friday this will all be forgotten. This evening, for the first time, it didn’t feel like the worst idea to hang my head over handlebars for an hour or so.

Which let me see the lighthouse.

Also, one of the problems of my sinuses are a bit of fatigue. Between that and poor sleep, who wants to ride a bike? I suppose I could have, but, I mean, who wants to ride a bike in their basement when they’re 33 percent sick?

Anyway, 22 miles, one big climb. I thought about doing more, but I was happy to be done. And tomorrow maybe I’ll try again.

cycling / Monday / video — Comments Off
20
Jan 25

No one saw that

We stayed indoors all weekend, because it was cold all weekend. That bitter, real winter sort of cold. It snowed Sunday evening, beginning a little later than expected and ended right on time. The cats were very much interested in the snow this time and I said, fine. Let me put on a jacket and some shoes.

They were not impressed with it for very long.

Ours are strictly indoor cats. Occasionally, one of them will time a door right and run outside, only to hide under a nearby bush. The other doesn’t try to sneak out a lot, but when she does, she’s off like a shot. So they know, basically, the front porch and one corner of the back of the house. Poseidon went that way, his favorite way around the back, and didn’t even make it to his rose bushes. Phoebe went the opposite way, to the right. I don’t know if either of them have ever gone that way. And you could see that she wanted to go back inside. The door should be over here, somewhere. But I think, all of it being unfamiliar and ridiculously cold besides, she lost track of where the door was. So I stopped recording and took her in. Poe was happy to see the door open, too.

These professional cuddlers and cover stealers are no match for mother nature.

When the snow ended the expert indicated we should go out and shovel, because it was the wet kind of snow and it would otherwise be trouble tomorrow. So there we were, 8 p.m. last night, hoping the neighbor’s little boy wasn’t already asleep so we wouldn’t disturb him with the “shhhhh shhhhhk shhhh shhhhhhk” sounds of winter.

But the driveway got cleared. Once again, enough to shovel, not enough to try the snowblower, which is doing it’s job of keeping real snowfalls far, far away from our driveway.

Today, the Canada geese flew over. I caught the tale end of the flock.

After which, I noticed there was a patch of snow right there on the road at the foot of our drive. Wouldn’t want anyone to have a problem with that as they passed by. So I set out to take care of that. Parka, because it’s cold. Hat, because same. Sunglasses, because of the reflective snow. Boots, because I have them. And three-quarters of the way down the drive I slipped on the ice. The shovel went to the left and back. My glasses went to the right and back, after scratching my nose and eyebrow. My body went back, and so did my head, right on the cement. Ker-ploof. Because my head no longer makes kerthunk noises.

So I was sprawled on the driveway for about six seconds, and then I said aloud, “Get up.” I rolled to my right, on a knee, and sat like that for a few moments to make sure I was ready and prepared. To stand up. On the ice. The micron-thin layer of which I’d just fallen on. The part that my lovely bride shoveled last night.

My part of the driveway was perfectly fine, by the way. And so was I. Once I got up I had to carefully navigate retrieving the shovel and glasses, but eventually I had them both in hand. At the street, I saw the snow was a hard-packed layer thinner than your favorite frosting on your favorite treat. It wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was my headache.

I kid. I’m fine. I’ll feel this tomorrow. But I was fine enough to have a 32-mile bike ride this evening. I did a course which just lapped me around one big hill over and over. Ten laps. I grew to hate that hill. It started with a sprint, and then a slight ramp, before nice little incline, which flatted out, turned left, and then gave you the real thing. And before you got into the downhill you were going back up again. Finally, you floated into the decent, to the left, and then the right, and the right, and the right some more. And then that sprint again.

Ten times.

On my last lap, though, I set three PRs. One for the lap itself. One for the climb, by just one-tenth of a second. And then I trimmed down the sprint by three seconds to end the thing.

If you think doing anything in laps is tedious, try it on a video game, in your basement, in the dead of winter.

cycling / Friday / site — Comments Off
17
Jan 25

I finally left Meta behind

My god-sister-in-law (just go with it) has a friend who is in a two-man band and they played a restaurant nearby this evening. So we braved the chill night air and drove to see them play. Gen X covers. They do a nice job. They can fade into the background or grab the room’s attention. Whatever is required at the moment. Good music! Very average cheeseburger!

Before that, I did this. It felt good.

I also changed up the buttons on the front page and the top of this page. No reason to have links to things I don’t use anymore.

I don’t want to say it was cathartic, or even a big decision. I ignored Threads almost immediately because it was terrible from the start. I never got a lot of traction on Instagram, because I’m not especially popular, I guess. Facebook never appealed to me all that much. So these things were easy for me. They’ll be less easy for some, I realize that. And I know that some people will be fine with the direction Zuckerberg is going.

I could thunder away at that for a few thousand words. The content moderation, dismissing the very notion of fact checking, the filters, the misinformation, the changes to their standards which will have continued negative effect on users. People you know are going to be brought further into risk by Zuckerberg’s decisions to cozy up, or read the moment, or try to be relevant — whatever the true motivation is. And whatever that motivation is, users barely figure into it. That’s not a new thing at 1 Hacker Way. Cambridge Analytica should have been the wooden stake in the heart. What they did to news media, their legendary pivot to video nonsense, how they’ve data mined you and gleefully put their thumb on the scale of distribution, the surveillance, any one of these should have all had them tossed with the bathwater. But here we are. They think they’ve got you, because you allowed for all of that. And now, at this moment, we are at a place where none of what’s going to occur is worth whatever you think you get in return.

That’s a personal decision for everyone, but even before they make it, people have got to know about it. The chronically online are the first to see what’s happening. The rest will figure it out for themselves later. (Maybe. Depending on what media environment they’ve cultivated for themselves.) If it does bubble into their consciousness, people will make their own decisions based on toleration and habits and needs.

Thing is, we don’t really need any of these things for much. We certainly don’t have to tolerate the coarseness and continued enshittification. There are better alternatives when it comes to how one spends their time, keeps in touch, or what have you. Some of them are much better.

So I didn’t have great habits in Meta’s walled garden. I don’t need them. This was an easy choice. Moreover, it’s the right one.

Wish I’d done it much, much, sooner.

I said yesterday’s bike ride was perfectly uninspired. Today’s was even more ho-hum, if that’s possible. Just 20 miles. Nothing of interest to report. Some days you’re just keeping the legs turning, and that was today.

But I did go by the best fake storefront in the fake Zwift world.

I blame the weather. We’re due some snow this weekend and then a week of bitter, bitter cold. That’s no way to begin a new semester, which starts on Tuesday.

cycling / movies / photo / Thursday — Comments Off
16
Jan 25

One Short Day

Because everything is lining up, and because it was cold and all of the little people are back in school we went to the movies and caught a matinee. I’ll give you one guess what we saw.

We saw the play, in London in 2015. It was one of those things where we had an afternoon, and were probably ready for an evening that moved at a regular pace, and so we walked over to the ticket booth where you can get late tickets inexpensively. One of the options was Wicked, and so we enjoyed that on the West End. This was the curtain.

The movie, part one, is what movies should be: a lot of fun. Most of what you saw were practical effects. The tulips were plentiful. The costumes were fantastic. They were, perhaps, the element most to the original, with just enough modern post-dystopian steampunk flare to pop in high definition.

Apparently the singing was done live. Sometimes that seemed obvious, not in a bad way. And other times it seemed incredibly impractical. Ga-linda is terrible. Ariana Grande is great in the role, but the character is terrible. Cynthia Erivo is so wonderful it’s difficult, even knowing the play, to imagine how they turn her from protagonist to antagonist in the second movie.

Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel, who originated the protagonist and deuteragonist on stage, have small parts. I said it’s a shame that no one is still left from the Wizard of Oz that they could drop in somewhere. But I said that in the car, without looking this up. According to People, there were three surviving cast members still with us late last year, 84 years later!

My one problem — aside from the standard musical issue that at least one song is weaker than the rest — is that someone brings into a classroom this new invention, they call it a “cage” and, in it, the animals will be kept, so they can be held in their natural condition. Which is to say, without a voice. (A lot of that element of the movie seems pointed and modern.) But here are people with bicycles, electricity, the most over-engineered train in the world and the coolest library ever, but they’ve only just invented cages?

I suppose the order of development means a lot in a fictional society, too.

Anyway, it’s a fine movie. Watch Wizard of Oz again before you see Wicked. You’ll find more of the Easter eggs that way.

It was snowing when we left the theater.

That’s just beginning of a week-and-a-half of actual winter. I bet they never have to deal with that in Emerald City. The wizard probably takes care of it.

I had a perfectly uninspiring 38-mile bike ride this evening. I averaged about 20 miles an hour, and near the end I thought, I should grab an image. Just then I was riding here.

And that fit. That’s how impressive the ride was. You might think my little Zwift avatar is riding through a cave there, but no. No, he is riding to his death. Death by asphyxiation, for he is riding through the heart of a volcano. And, surely, while holding a 24 mile per hour pace through the thing my avatar would be breathing hard, and pulling in more sulfur than anything.

Volcanoes vary, but the gases they produce are primarily water vapor, carbon dioxide, sulfur dioxide (SO2), hydrogen sulfide (H2S), nitrogen, argon, helium, neon, methane, carbon monoxide and hydrogen.

No way my guy lives through that, right?

He’s probably got a better shot at being safely whisked away to Oz.

cycling / family / Rowan / Thursday — Comments Off
9
Jan 25

Progress is being made

Terrible night of sleep. But the morning’s sleep was better. Usually, I go to bed when I’m dead tired, but I went earlier and just … laid there for about six hours. Also, both cats decided it was my turn to be their personal space heaters. One cat is fine. Both cats are a furnace.

I looked at the weather, and then I looked at the forecasts for family. So, today, after doing a bunch of work, I called my grandfather to see if he was prepared for snow and ice. It seems he’ll have a harder winter weekend than we will. He assured me he is prepared to stay indoors. The porch has already been treated. He has the traditional French toast provisions. He gets the joke, but not being adventurous with cuisine, I doubt he’s ever eaten French toast. Nevertheless, he’s ready to watch the weather come and go. I asked him when it was supposed to warm up for him.

“Springtime!”

Nowhere near soon enough.

Though we’re now forecast to hit 41 degrees this weekend. I might set up a sprinkler and go run around in it.

I spent today working on class stuff for the spring semester. It’s just that for the next 12 days until class begins. Honestly, 12 days probably isn’t enough time. But I have the outlines for the first three weeks of class prepared. Another two or three hours will make me properly prepared to navigate through them. And tomorrow, and part of the weekend, I’ll continue building outlines.

It’s terribly exciting stuff, I know. It is, if you like the subject matter. Lucky for me, I do. We’re going to talk about globalization and media and culture in the first three weeks and, looking through what is in store, I want to talk about them right now, but all those days will be here soon enough, leaving me plenty of time to prepare.

Except there’s never enough time to prepare. The class I’m working on right now meets twice a week, for 75 minutes. I haven’t taught a class of that length in several years. Three, maybe four key points per day. It is a mental shift, and a lot to prepare for.

Tomorrow, I’ll figure out how to boil down the entire history of recorded communication into a class session or two. And then figure out what I can omit for a unit on global cinema, and then another for an entire planet’s worth of television. These are challenging choices.

So, I’m left with the idea that it’s a good thing that I don’t have months and months to prepare; I’d agonize over it. I know that, for certain, because that’s what I’ve done every time I’ve sat down with it over the past several months.

I’ve been working my way through a sprint series of Zwift this week. I’ll do a workout, and then round out the day with some free riding to get about 30 miles in. Yesterday, I did a workout inspired by the outrageous style of Mathieu van der Poel. He’s a six-time world champion in cyclocross, and a world champion in gravel bike. Two titles he currently holds, in fact. He’s been the European champion in mountain bike. He also wins stages in grand tours and in the European monuments and classics. Also, he’s been world champion on the road, too. The exercise was meant to name drop him and try, with a straight face, to convince you that you’re emulating the attacking style of one of the best riders of his or any generation. (There are maybe three generational talents on the road right now, including perhaps the best ever; it is absurd.) Surge and recover and surge and recover. Then go over your threshold some more.

Do that eight times, and you’re just like Mathieu!

The training session has little messages on it, and I was having a good ride, and I was sure it was going to say something laughable like that. “You’re ready to race MvdP!” I was ready to mock it endlessly. But they held off.

From his Tour of Flanders win in 2023 …

In great news for wattage fans globally, MVDP has even uploaded his power data. You might want to take a seat before reading this next section. Van der Poel averaged a stunning 285 watts for the 6.5 hours with a peak power of 1,406 W. That’s 1,406 watts in the final seconds of a six-hour-and-thirty-four-minute-long race. Most of us could barely say “1,406 watts” at the end of a 280 km ride, let alone hit such a figure. MVDP’s heart rate monitor also had a tough day at the office. With an average heart rate of 141 bpm and a max of 189 bpm, the Dutch superstar’s heart rate was the only thing faster than his speedo(meter).

If you don’t know what that means, it means a lot. It means something nearly incomprehensible to mortal human beings.

I don’t care about watts — I have a shirt that says “More Pulse Less Watts” — but that’s the central metric of the workout. I was doing but a fraction of that yesterday. And I did it for about 90 minutes, rather than all day.

But I set five new Strava PRs yesterday. Four of them on climbs. (Take that, Mathieu!)

Today’s workout was a long segment with eight sprints in it. I hated most every second of it. But I kept getting these great canned messages from the app. Usually they are of the “You’re getting stronger,” standard rah-rah. But in today’s workout …

Read the room, Zwift.

After 24 miles going from sprint to sprint to sprint — some of them a bit uphill, mind you — and a few more miles just passing the time, I found I’d set Strava PRs on five of those eight sprint segments.

When they don’t feel especially fast it just means you are especially slow!