Originality

I came to grips with the fact, yes fact, that there are no more original ideas. No matter how outlandish the idea, it has been thought of. How crazy the idea, it has been wadded up and tossed llike a jumpshot into the wastebin of history.

Perfect example, preparing for a semi formal event last week someone asked if I was going to wear a tuxedo. I said no, but I might wear a Speedo. Nay, a tuxspeedo. I thought I was being clever. Yet a quick Google search proved, with nary a frightening doubt, that the tuxspeedo has been thought of, tested and hopefully perfected. Still, it was funny.

I know you'll Google it. But I don't recommend it.

I Got Nothin'

And I mean nothin'. The summer of 2011 will go down in my sporting annals as one of the worstest ever. Between summer not arriving until July, a stressful time at work and a limited exercise schedule anyway, the last few months have been difficult. I've known for a long time it was going to play out like it has, and I think mentally preparing for it has helped. Still, when I fell off the exercise wagon I fell under the wheels. And, since I like to chronicle mostly my fitness goals on this blog, I haven't had much to say.

But I think I will. I have one more week of travel coming up and then things should slow down some at work. It's also cooling off, much nicer for riding and running. Cyclocross season is almost here, but my schedule will be pretty light. Entry is almost $30 a race now, for a whole 45 minutes of pain. Too rich for me to run more than a couple of races, especially with my current level of fitness. Plus, there's always next year.

I Do Stuff.

I've had a busy few weeks but I have been able to sneak in a couple of rides and runs here and there. With surprisingly good results, even.

First was the Royal Riders Century. This was a last minute entry to benefit the Huntsman Cancer Institute and Roy High Athletics. Two great causes, and I prefer to register for events that give back to something I believe in. And I believe in cancer research. You might say with my life. Quite amazingly, this was my first organized century ever. Normally it's just me out there with only me to talk to and my face in the wind for a hundred miles or so. But considering my condition this year, which is poor, I thought the distance would be a challenge and if I got into any trouble I could draft behind Mike. Mike has been training to ride RAGBRAI (Registers Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa) with the Air Force team, and his wife said he could have a new bike if he rolled 4k on his odometer this year. He's been riding like a fiend, devouring miles like a madman. Plus he was bringing along Angie, another first time century rider. I thought it would be a good ride to do. And I was right.

Long story short, it started out as the three of us with Mike and I trading pulls and keeping Angie out of the wind and on our wheels. As the miles wore on, our trio swelled as riders started to struggle with the distance and found the pedestrian 16 mph speed I pulled the group along at to be mostly accommodating to their sense of survival. Mike looked out for Angie and I sat on the front, where I like it. We shepherded riders along. They left aid stations when we did. Other riders came and went out the back. Michael nearly choked out a guy for trying to ride two up with him on a busy road, and I nearly choked the same guy out for riding in front of me like he was trying to take a pull and help out, but riding at 18 mph. A pace the majority in the group couldn't hold. WTF? I helped out a lady who had been dropped by her husband after his ego pulled them past us and then left her in no woman's land. He attacked something and left her in limbo, behind him and in front of me struggling to catch up. I bridged up and asked her if she just wanted to ride in the group. He finally faded and came back to us under the relentless pressure of the crushing 14.5 mph I was dragging the group at. Anyway, 6:15 later I was in and glad of it because my butt was starting to get sore. I guess that is how centuries unfold. You ride with your group and people come and go. People irritate you. I doubt this will be my last organized century.

Next was the Morgan Marathon. A new event, work was a sponsor and I won a comp entry. So, current fitness aside, I decided that since it was free, I was going to get my no-moneys worth and signed up for the full 26.2 marathon miles. I had two months to parlay marginal fitness into becoming marathon-worthy. With huge projects at work, a late spring that delayed everything and a week driving cross country, getting ready was a true challenge. Which I failed. However, I was buoyed by the confidence from the century bike ride. I knew that, at a reasonable pace, I would be okay and finish in maybe 4:30 without problems. I'd be fine.

I totally PR'd this run. That's right, personal record. Now I have only run a pair of marathons, but considering I ran the downhill Ogden Marathon in 3:53 and the ribbon candy-profile Morgan Marathon in 3:52, I am extremely pleased. And I did it with no blisters, lost toenails or gut wrenching stomach issues I am normally plagued with. Other than sore legs and feet I am none the worse for wear.

I doubt I'll ever run Ogden again, but Morgan probably. And I might even train the next time. But the problem with run training is that it isn't on a bike. And I miss biking, almost so much I could stop running and swimming, sell my road and cross bikes and just ride and race my mountain bike. I won't, but being a jack of all trades ain't easy and I'll take a PR anytime.

I Hate Fashion

It's not easy being me, rather, finding clothes that fit my odd shape. See, I am about 5' 7" and weight about 155, but I am reasonably lean. I also have, for my height, a longish inseam at 31". I've never enjoyed shopping for clothes because I am between sizes on about everything. But with the current trends in fashion, I find shopping downright stupid now.

While wandering in and out of shops yesterday with Wifey, I found a t-shirt that I actually liked. I mean, how often do you find something with Hunter S. Thompson on it? I normally wear a medium, but they looked kinda small. I grabbed a large and a medium and went to the fitting room.

Okay, so the medium fit like a cycling jersey. The sleeves were tight on my biceps and it was tight through my back. It was even snug on my skeletal chest. Plus it only went to my belt line. So I put on the large. Which still didn't fit all that great, and is a bit long, but I went for it anyway. Again, HST!

I walked out and I mentioned to Wifey that I didn't know who in the hell they sized this stuff for, but it wasn't me. She replied that it was the style that clothes fit tighter now, it was the style. I know it is, but said it was ridiculously snug. She started to say something about my lack of fashion sense when we were addressed by one of the store employees. "Are you guys finding everything okay?"

It was a hipster guy in his early 20s, my height, with a scraggly little beard. He was wearing some sort of skinny jean capri-things that hugged his non-existent thighs and made his ass disappear like his cheeks had gotten frightened and crawled into his crack to hide. Underneath his little wool cardigan (mind you, it's 90°) he had a t-shirt on the was not stuck to his back, chest or arms.

I realized this was who clothing was designed to fit now. And I now understand why many women get frustrated shopping for clothes that are designed to fit a 6' tall, size 1 supermodel. Clothes for men are now made to fit someone other than me, because not only does brooding not build muscle, it must inhibit it.

I bought the large shirt. It's a little long, because of my shorty highpockets build; but at least I don't feel like I'm wearing a wetsuit. I guess I'm just not meant to be cool...

On a side note, tomorrow I am riding my first organized century. Like with other people. Hope it's fun!

Boooooo!

I watch one single damn sporting event all year, the Tour de France, and this year it is being decided by crashes in the first week. Not time trials, not 7 hour mountain stages. Crashes. This is such a goddamn disappointment. My giveashitability to watch the Tour is now near zero for the next two weeks. Way to pick a race route ASO.