All my training, on the bike anyway, seems one long investigation into the medical mystery surrounding the muscles spasms in my upper left back. I started with an orthopedist/sports medicine doctor. She diagnosed...muscles spasms. Er, yeah. Kind of knew that. Origins? Who knows. Solutions? Lidocaine shots after the fact, that only last an hour. Next stop: massage therapist. Some progress there. She was able to tell me that I had limited mobility in my left scapula, probably from scar tissue. Combined with what the doc said, things were pointing to some lingering damage from a bike wreck (MTB) I had in 2002. But while the massage helped some, it was/is not enough by itself. So finally I went to a chiropractor. And there we stand. I keep riding and providing him with feedback. The pain begins as pins-and-needles in the supraspinus muscle, and somehow the fatigue here activates the rhomboids for postural needs--a purpose for which they are not designed--and this leads to some kind of nerve impingement and finally the stabbing pain. (Needless to say, once things go off kilter in one area, it pulls everything else down the spine and into the opposite leg out of whack--hence all the problems with my lower right leg.)
So I am a "work in progress." I keep cycling, pushing through the pain, though I am still short of my 54 mile goal. (I could make that, but I worry that I would literally not be able to use my left arm at all--a dangerous situation when you need to brake.) The chiro will keep refining his adjustments, and I will keep applying the Biofreeze. (Eau de Parfum du Biofreeze. Chanel No. 5 it ain't.) Perhaps we can get to the point where some combo of kinesio tape might stabilize something up there.
Anyway, I am certainly learning a lot--and not just about muscles. My chiro also set me onto some liquid vitamins which are great (Intramax), as well as a really nice way to get my Omega 3s (Coromega). I should be a shining picture of health and energy. But the past few days I have been best by fatigue. I think I need a week on the beach somewhere sunny. I need the sun! I am like a tropical plant photosynthesizing directly from the sun's rays. Passing through the autumnal equinox is really shutting down the rays. Even when I get out, the sun is on the downside, wan, anemic. (Yeah, I know. This isn't Michigan or Seattle and I should count my blessings.) I would just like to find a beach somewhere and bake in the sun and surf for a couple of days.
Dream on!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Rose City Triathlon
I'm a little taken aback when I see I haven't blogged in a month. But then again, school started, so 'nuff said.
Did the last scheduled triathlon of the season this morning. Weather was not optimal. It began raining last night and continued all night and into the morning. Forecast was for more of the same all weekend.
I had everything packed and in the car before dinner last night, clothes and shoes laid out in the bathroom, so I would have minimal effort to get ready this morning. Alarm went off at 5. Dressed, ate my rice flakes, read a little bit, then left at 5:30.
I don't know why, as I have tris that have earlier start times, but the drive to Whitehouse is perhaps the most difficult one I do because I nearly fall asleep! Must be the familiarity. Had to make a rest stop at McDonald's there in Whitehouse, but made it to the race site by 6:40. As always, love the orderliness of the parking. Lots of people were already there. Really love having individually numbered rack spots! As one of the first people to register, I was No. 4, so I had a spot right near the bike transition--great, since I don't do the barefoot thing if I can help it, and running far in cleats is not wise. Got set up with no problem. Got marked. Picked up chip. Dropped of temporary USAT card for Madeleine at the packet pick-up tent. Saw Kami and talked a bit. Did some warm-up runs around the parking lot. Made a last visit to the Port-a-potty.
About 7:20 Kami wanted to do a swim warm-up so I walked with her to the swim finish area so I could take a look at the course, which they altered from last year. (I wasn't going to swim. I don't like standing around wet for an hour.) Didn't look too bad. It's usually a point-to-point swim, but last year's finish area was too shallow this year and had too much hydrilla, so they made it a "hook": we had to make a sharp left turn near the end to finish a few hundred yards east and then do a moderately long run to the transition area. The start area remained out on the dam.
7:40 we made our way up to the dam for the pre-race athletes' meeting. And of course, once we got there, stowed our shoes in bags etc., the rain started. And it got worse. All through the meeting and the playing of the National Anthem, it rained. We (women over 40) were in the last wave so we had to stand there for at least 20 minutes, shivering. I could feel my muscles stiffening up. As soon as the third wave left we were in the water, just to keep warm.
Our wave went at 8:15. I thought it was a good start, but after I rounded the first turn and headed left, I could tell things were not going well by the fact that no one was swimming near me. I was too far "out" from the buoy line. I kept trying to correct and come back left, but as I am right-side dominant, it's difficult. I know I wasted a lot of time swimming further than was necessary. Same thing happened rounding the last buoy (left again) to head to the new finish. The water shallowed up very far out so I had to slog quite a way through water and mud till I reached the shore. Then it was up the ramp and onto the run. I looked at my watch: almost 17 minutes! Ouch!! (I don't remember my time last year, but I can usually do 650 yards in 12-13 minutes. Of course, that is at Tyler State Park and it's all in a straight line.)
T1 went pretty well. Had to sit down on my camp stool to put on my socks and shoes, which were both soaked. (It hadn't been raining an hour earlier when we'd left.) Helmet went on without a problem. (Not wearing sunglasses helped, plus I've learned to pull it--Giro Advantage--on from the front and then over the top, rather than trying to plop it square on the noggin like a normal helmet.)
It was just a short distance to the bike mount line and I was on and going quickly. The rain was still pouring and it was already difficult to see with so much water in my eyes. I was glad to see Galen at the first turn onto Concession Stand Road (even though she called me Jim!). I saw several TBC-ers everywhere--Carole, Super Dave, Blaise, Hebb--but forgive me if I can't remember exactly where. I get a bit of tunnel vision once the race is on. I turned on to FM 346 and began passing some folks. The rain was blinding me but what can you do? Then it was a left turn and back onto the course. That first long hill wasn't too bad. I geared down and managed to pass a few folks. I geared very well on the hills, putting it in the big ring for the downhills, and not really having to leave it for most of the ride. My recent training on rollers--hills, not indoor training!--helped a lot. I was able to get enough momentum from the downhills that all I had to do was stand up and pedal for about 10 seconds before heading over the top of the next hill. Things got a bit technical at the turnaround as they directed us down a little cul-de-sac. It was a sharp left turn with riders coming and going. This is where Rooney passed me. (At least it was halfway into the bike this time!) Back out on the course, things continued well. I passed a lot of folks. (Needless to say, all the bike studs had already finished their rides.) I managed to maintain most of my speed on the right-hand turn back onto FM 346. Then it was back into the Marina area and heading to T2.
T2 went fast, at least at first. Racked bike, un-doffed helmet, removed shoes and put on sneakers. Thought I was really swift heading out to the "run"--only to be called back quickly by Blaise and Kayla cuz I was heading back onto the bike course! Had to turn 90 degrees and run back all the way through transition and out onto the run course. There was a short bit across the grass and then up a slight rise onto the road. I didn't do the run last year as I was part of a relay team, so this was novel--as betokened by the fact that I made another wrong turn, only to be called back by volunteers. But once I got straightened out I found a very comfortable rhythm. At the first mile marker I managed to pass a lady in a Sunrise Tri uniform who I'd traded passed with on the bike. After a quarter mile she passed me, but one more quarter at the next turn I passed her for good. I was a bit disappointed when I saw the 2nd mile marker, if only because I thought we were closer to the end (and because I could see the finish area to my left). But we had to run out over the dam, past the swim start, and on back further, taking a short cross-country run through the mud before turning around for the last time.
It was on this section I saw John Cobb from the back--meaning, I was gaining on him. I'd seen him earlier as runners are going both directions on all parts of the course. He was in red--fitting, since he is like a red flag to a bull--I had passed him on the run at Athens so why not again? But despite passing another man in the mud flat and gaining some time, Cobb was trucking on today. I could not catch him--not without red-lining it. As it was I was able to keep a steady gap on him to the finish (which was down a very slick and muddy slope). He turned around then and gave me a hug, saying every time he heard footsteps behind him he thought it was me!
I got my finisher's medal and went in search of food. I had a bit of a Subway sandwich and stood along the finish lane to cheer on others for a bit. Then I got a Smoothie and stood in line to find out my time. It was very confusing because they hadn't been updated but on the initial list I was at least third. Later when they posted the final results someone from my group must've been a Master's top three because I'd been bumped up to second. I was glad because I've finished third in all three races I've done so far this year, so second was a nice change.
ETT members dominated the overall--Chauncey set a new course record, besting Brady O'Bryan (last year's overall)--as well as the age groups. We had medalists in just about every age group. The race itself was even better than last year. It's definitely one of the best organized races anywhere. Can't offer enough praises to Steve, Alan, Duke, Matt, and all the many other folks who worked so hard to pull it all together.
Did the last scheduled triathlon of the season this morning. Weather was not optimal. It began raining last night and continued all night and into the morning. Forecast was for more of the same all weekend.
I had everything packed and in the car before dinner last night, clothes and shoes laid out in the bathroom, so I would have minimal effort to get ready this morning. Alarm went off at 5. Dressed, ate my rice flakes, read a little bit, then left at 5:30.
I don't know why, as I have tris that have earlier start times, but the drive to Whitehouse is perhaps the most difficult one I do because I nearly fall asleep! Must be the familiarity. Had to make a rest stop at McDonald's there in Whitehouse, but made it to the race site by 6:40. As always, love the orderliness of the parking. Lots of people were already there. Really love having individually numbered rack spots! As one of the first people to register, I was No. 4, so I had a spot right near the bike transition--great, since I don't do the barefoot thing if I can help it, and running far in cleats is not wise. Got set up with no problem. Got marked. Picked up chip. Dropped of temporary USAT card for Madeleine at the packet pick-up tent. Saw Kami and talked a bit. Did some warm-up runs around the parking lot. Made a last visit to the Port-a-potty.
About 7:20 Kami wanted to do a swim warm-up so I walked with her to the swim finish area so I could take a look at the course, which they altered from last year. (I wasn't going to swim. I don't like standing around wet for an hour.) Didn't look too bad. It's usually a point-to-point swim, but last year's finish area was too shallow this year and had too much hydrilla, so they made it a "hook": we had to make a sharp left turn near the end to finish a few hundred yards east and then do a moderately long run to the transition area. The start area remained out on the dam.
7:40 we made our way up to the dam for the pre-race athletes' meeting. And of course, once we got there, stowed our shoes in bags etc., the rain started. And it got worse. All through the meeting and the playing of the National Anthem, it rained. We (women over 40) were in the last wave so we had to stand there for at least 20 minutes, shivering. I could feel my muscles stiffening up. As soon as the third wave left we were in the water, just to keep warm.
Our wave went at 8:15. I thought it was a good start, but after I rounded the first turn and headed left, I could tell things were not going well by the fact that no one was swimming near me. I was too far "out" from the buoy line. I kept trying to correct and come back left, but as I am right-side dominant, it's difficult. I know I wasted a lot of time swimming further than was necessary. Same thing happened rounding the last buoy (left again) to head to the new finish. The water shallowed up very far out so I had to slog quite a way through water and mud till I reached the shore. Then it was up the ramp and onto the run. I looked at my watch: almost 17 minutes! Ouch!! (I don't remember my time last year, but I can usually do 650 yards in 12-13 minutes. Of course, that is at Tyler State Park and it's all in a straight line.)
T1 went pretty well. Had to sit down on my camp stool to put on my socks and shoes, which were both soaked. (It hadn't been raining an hour earlier when we'd left.) Helmet went on without a problem. (Not wearing sunglasses helped, plus I've learned to pull it--Giro Advantage--on from the front and then over the top, rather than trying to plop it square on the noggin like a normal helmet.)
It was just a short distance to the bike mount line and I was on and going quickly. The rain was still pouring and it was already difficult to see with so much water in my eyes. I was glad to see Galen at the first turn onto Concession Stand Road (even though she called me Jim!). I saw several TBC-ers everywhere--Carole, Super Dave, Blaise, Hebb--but forgive me if I can't remember exactly where. I get a bit of tunnel vision once the race is on. I turned on to FM 346 and began passing some folks. The rain was blinding me but what can you do? Then it was a left turn and back onto the course. That first long hill wasn't too bad. I geared down and managed to pass a few folks. I geared very well on the hills, putting it in the big ring for the downhills, and not really having to leave it for most of the ride. My recent training on rollers--hills, not indoor training!--helped a lot. I was able to get enough momentum from the downhills that all I had to do was stand up and pedal for about 10 seconds before heading over the top of the next hill. Things got a bit technical at the turnaround as they directed us down a little cul-de-sac. It was a sharp left turn with riders coming and going. This is where Rooney passed me. (At least it was halfway into the bike this time!) Back out on the course, things continued well. I passed a lot of folks. (Needless to say, all the bike studs had already finished their rides.) I managed to maintain most of my speed on the right-hand turn back onto FM 346. Then it was back into the Marina area and heading to T2.
T2 went fast, at least at first. Racked bike, un-doffed helmet, removed shoes and put on sneakers. Thought I was really swift heading out to the "run"--only to be called back quickly by Blaise and Kayla cuz I was heading back onto the bike course! Had to turn 90 degrees and run back all the way through transition and out onto the run course. There was a short bit across the grass and then up a slight rise onto the road. I didn't do the run last year as I was part of a relay team, so this was novel--as betokened by the fact that I made another wrong turn, only to be called back by volunteers. But once I got straightened out I found a very comfortable rhythm. At the first mile marker I managed to pass a lady in a Sunrise Tri uniform who I'd traded passed with on the bike. After a quarter mile she passed me, but one more quarter at the next turn I passed her for good. I was a bit disappointed when I saw the 2nd mile marker, if only because I thought we were closer to the end (and because I could see the finish area to my left). But we had to run out over the dam, past the swim start, and on back further, taking a short cross-country run through the mud before turning around for the last time.
It was on this section I saw John Cobb from the back--meaning, I was gaining on him. I'd seen him earlier as runners are going both directions on all parts of the course. He was in red--fitting, since he is like a red flag to a bull--I had passed him on the run at Athens so why not again? But despite passing another man in the mud flat and gaining some time, Cobb was trucking on today. I could not catch him--not without red-lining it. As it was I was able to keep a steady gap on him to the finish (which was down a very slick and muddy slope). He turned around then and gave me a hug, saying every time he heard footsteps behind him he thought it was me!
I got my finisher's medal and went in search of food. I had a bit of a Subway sandwich and stood along the finish lane to cheer on others for a bit. Then I got a Smoothie and stood in line to find out my time. It was very confusing because they hadn't been updated but on the initial list I was at least third. Later when they posted the final results someone from my group must've been a Master's top three because I'd been bumped up to second. I was glad because I've finished third in all three races I've done so far this year, so second was a nice change.
ETT members dominated the overall--Chauncey set a new course record, besting Brady O'Bryan (last year's overall)--as well as the age groups. We had medalists in just about every age group. The race itself was even better than last year. It's definitely one of the best organized races anywhere. Can't offer enough praises to Steve, Alan, Duke, Matt, and all the many other folks who worked so hard to pull it all together.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Oh, my aching back! (e.g., "Feel My Pain!")
I had a nice session with super Massage Therapist Meredith Wauqua, who turned my shoulder inside out. In doing so she informed me that my left scapula was "not very mobile." She said when she worked my back the scapular area went "crunch, crunch"!!
Hmmmm. Crunch? Isn't that how Dr. Fiesler described it?
Man, what is up with this shoulder?? (Shoulder, back, schmack! It's my scapula, which operates my shoulder, but it rests on my back.) The evidence is overwhelming that I injured it at some point, but for the life of me I can't remember doing so. I did have a nasty mountain bike crash circa 2002, but I don't remember anything involving my shoulder. (But then again, like the aftermath of a car wreck, everything hurt so that particular aria of pain may have just succumbed to the power of the chorus.)
The depressing thing about it is: there is nothing really to be done. No cure. No "fix". A doc can't just go in and repair a torn ligament or some such injury. I suppose this will be something like arthritis (?) that I just have to live with. :-(
Hmmmm. Crunch? Isn't that how Dr. Fiesler described it?
Man, what is up with this shoulder?? (Shoulder, back, schmack! It's my scapula, which operates my shoulder, but it rests on my back.) The evidence is overwhelming that I injured it at some point, but for the life of me I can't remember doing so. I did have a nasty mountain bike crash circa 2002, but I don't remember anything involving my shoulder. (But then again, like the aftermath of a car wreck, everything hurt so that particular aria of pain may have just succumbed to the power of the chorus.)
The depressing thing about it is: there is nothing really to be done. No cure. No "fix". A doc can't just go in and repair a torn ligament or some such injury. I suppose this will be something like arthritis (?) that I just have to live with. :-(
Saturday, August 8, 2009
The Curse of the Stinky Gloves!!
Is there any cure for stinky cycling gloves?
I wash them after every ride. I don't use fabric softener but do use a drier sheet. And they don't smell too bad when I first put them on. They are not even that bad while I'm wearing them.
The real curse is the smell after I wear them. No matter how many times I wash my hands, within ten or fifteen minutes, the sour stink emerges from my palms. What to do? Will I be forced to burn all my gloves and by new pairs every two months? Or is there some magic concoction that will rid my hands of the stink without making them smell like cheap perfume?
I wash them after every ride. I don't use fabric softener but do use a drier sheet. And they don't smell too bad when I first put them on. They are not even that bad while I'm wearing them.
The real curse is the smell after I wear them. No matter how many times I wash my hands, within ten or fifteen minutes, the sour stink emerges from my palms. What to do? Will I be forced to burn all my gloves and by new pairs every two months? Or is there some magic concoction that will rid my hands of the stink without making them smell like cheap perfume?
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
No Magic Bullet
I went to see Dr. Fiesler again today, hoping we could take treatment of my back spasms to the "next level". She's given me lidocaine shots on previous occasions to break up the spasm and provide some relief, but the spasms always come back. I had though that cortisone shots would provide longer-lasting relief. However, today, even though she shot three major trigger points with a mixture of lidocaine and cortisone, she said it would not provide a lasting solution. Disappointingly, there were few alternatives offered for a long-term solution. She did say something about therapy with some kind of electric stimulation device (!!), but we didn't really follow up on that. (She was thinking about me wearing it during a race, which isn't practical, besides which it's during training that I need relief. Race day I can get a shot two days before and probably be able to tuff it out.)
So I am left with no real path to pursue. I have refitted and re-refitted on my bike; I have done upper-body training; I have done therapy exercises for the scapular support muscles. It would be nice to see if massage therapy or acupuncture or something along those lines would help, but I am pretty sure insurance would not cover much, if any, of that kind of therapy.
But I'm still riding my bike(s), if only 25 miles at a time. (My non-triathlete friends think 25 miles is an incredible distance! And that's a bit of an ego boost. However, fellow triathletes know that 25 miles will not prepare one for an aquabike distance of 56 miles.) Yes, I am RIDING MY BIKE!! I am enjoying my last weeks of FREEDOM!! Other people think of summer vacation and they think of trips to the mountains or the beach, or a foray to Disney World. Not me. I just WANT TO RIDE MY BIKE! I WANT TO RIDE IT WHERE I LIKE!!! (Go, "Queen"!! The cyclists' anthem!) 'Cause come August 24th, all those morning rides go bye-bye.
Tears on my keyboard.... Must stop now. ;-)
So I am left with no real path to pursue. I have refitted and re-refitted on my bike; I have done upper-body training; I have done therapy exercises for the scapular support muscles. It would be nice to see if massage therapy or acupuncture or something along those lines would help, but I am pretty sure insurance would not cover much, if any, of that kind of therapy.
But I'm still riding my bike(s), if only 25 miles at a time. (My non-triathlete friends think 25 miles is an incredible distance! And that's a bit of an ego boost. However, fellow triathletes know that 25 miles will not prepare one for an aquabike distance of 56 miles.) Yes, I am RIDING MY BIKE!! I am enjoying my last weeks of FREEDOM!! Other people think of summer vacation and they think of trips to the mountains or the beach, or a foray to Disney World. Not me. I just WANT TO RIDE MY BIKE! I WANT TO RIDE IT WHERE I LIKE!!! (Go, "Queen"!! The cyclists' anthem!) 'Cause come August 24th, all those morning rides go bye-bye.
Tears on my keyboard.... Must stop now. ;-)
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Au Revoir, Le Tour
It's been a long three weeks. I'm not as tired as the riders, but I am tired. I'm tired of some of the soap opera atmospherics surrounding this edition. I'm definitely tired of the same commercials. When you watch it a minimum of twice a day, you see them a lot, and since some of the sponsors only had a single commercial that they ran every break...you get the picture.
Commercials:
1. Worst: Cadillac. Couldn't you have sprung for more than one commercial??? The same lady in the same car purring, "The relationship with your car is a lot like any other relationship." Arrghhh!
2. Runner Up worst: Woo. I still have no idea what this is for because I muted it every time.
3. Dishonorable Mention: Volkswagen. What's with the coneheads?
Moving in the other direction:
1. Best: freecreditreport.com. They just have some catchy tunes.
2. Trek's Get Your Wow. Subtle. They kept the same basic footage but added bits or rearranged them as the Tour progressed. Kept things interesting.
3. Honda Hybrids. Again, catchy tunes. Makes me want to eat granola and move to CA.
Commentary
I will definitely miss Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen--even Craig Hummer and Bob Roll. I always expect superlatives from Phil and Paul--and hey, guys, props for getting techie with Twitter!--but I even enjoyed the American commentary in the evening broadcasts. Bobke proved very insightful and not just a comic prop. Kudos to all.
Cyclists
Top-notch, interesting racing. A bit of whining from one or two. (At least Carlos apologized, but Cadel....) I thought Week One was a bit of a bore with Cav's dominance. I like Mark. He's talented beyond belief. But it was three hours of (yawn) breakaway, followed by a catch followed by another Columbia victory. Had it not been for the rain and the hill in Barcelona, the other sprinters could have just packed it up and gone home. ('Cept Thor. He knew--and proved--there's more to sprinting than the leadout train.) Week Two had some more excitement, though not on GC. With Nocentini as a caretaker of the yellow and none of the GC faves going to make a move before the Alps, it was a waiting game. Nice revelation in Brice Feillu. Will he go with Lance's new team? Possibilities.
Speaking of Lance's new team: that introduced an entire new level of soap opera to the Tour's end. Every time Lance spoke with someone in the peloton, the commentators wondered: is he going to join Lance's new team? Won't know till September. (This subject will keep tongues wagging for months.)
Glad to see no doping scandals, at least so far. (Di Luca's positive for the Giro, announced during the Tour, was not even worth a raised eyebrow. We were all...so...shocked. Not.) Plenty of folks desperate for one. (Greg! Just let it go. Try and make some positive contributions to the sport again.)
My own training has suffered a bit, particularly in this last week. (At least in Week 2 I could watch the intro and stage recap, go out and ride for two hours, and make it back for the finish.) With the Alps on tap, I hardly dared leave the TV. I did manage to get in a few rides before lunch--thankfully, temps were unseasonably cool for Texas in July (80s before noon is practically arctic) so I got away with it. So I am hoping that if the weather cooperates I can get in some good morning rides next week. The summer is winding down and I am already dreading somewhat the start of the fall semester, if only from the standpoint of not having the freedom to ride all morning.
Finally, the end of the Tour will leave a giant void in the TV viewing spectrum. There is so NOTHING on TV. (600 channels and naught but junk.) For me, not a really big deal. I can read a book. But it introduces a vacuum that others will fill. (uuunnnhhhhhh....)
So Au Revoir, Le Tour! Catch you next year!
Commercials:
1. Worst: Cadillac. Couldn't you have sprung for more than one commercial??? The same lady in the same car purring, "The relationship with your car is a lot like any other relationship." Arrghhh!
2. Runner Up worst: Woo. I still have no idea what this is for because I muted it every time.
3. Dishonorable Mention: Volkswagen. What's with the coneheads?
Moving in the other direction:
1. Best: freecreditreport.com. They just have some catchy tunes.
2. Trek's Get Your Wow. Subtle. They kept the same basic footage but added bits or rearranged them as the Tour progressed. Kept things interesting.
3. Honda Hybrids. Again, catchy tunes. Makes me want to eat granola and move to CA.
Commentary
I will definitely miss Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen--even Craig Hummer and Bob Roll. I always expect superlatives from Phil and Paul--and hey, guys, props for getting techie with Twitter!--but I even enjoyed the American commentary in the evening broadcasts. Bobke proved very insightful and not just a comic prop. Kudos to all.
Cyclists
Top-notch, interesting racing. A bit of whining from one or two. (At least Carlos apologized, but Cadel....) I thought Week One was a bit of a bore with Cav's dominance. I like Mark. He's talented beyond belief. But it was three hours of (yawn) breakaway, followed by a catch followed by another Columbia victory. Had it not been for the rain and the hill in Barcelona, the other sprinters could have just packed it up and gone home. ('Cept Thor. He knew--and proved--there's more to sprinting than the leadout train.) Week Two had some more excitement, though not on GC. With Nocentini as a caretaker of the yellow and none of the GC faves going to make a move before the Alps, it was a waiting game. Nice revelation in Brice Feillu. Will he go with Lance's new team? Possibilities.
Speaking of Lance's new team: that introduced an entire new level of soap opera to the Tour's end. Every time Lance spoke with someone in the peloton, the commentators wondered: is he going to join Lance's new team? Won't know till September. (This subject will keep tongues wagging for months.)
Glad to see no doping scandals, at least so far. (Di Luca's positive for the Giro, announced during the Tour, was not even worth a raised eyebrow. We were all...so...shocked. Not.) Plenty of folks desperate for one. (Greg! Just let it go. Try and make some positive contributions to the sport again.)
My own training has suffered a bit, particularly in this last week. (At least in Week 2 I could watch the intro and stage recap, go out and ride for two hours, and make it back for the finish.) With the Alps on tap, I hardly dared leave the TV. I did manage to get in a few rides before lunch--thankfully, temps were unseasonably cool for Texas in July (80s before noon is practically arctic) so I got away with it. So I am hoping that if the weather cooperates I can get in some good morning rides next week. The summer is winding down and I am already dreading somewhat the start of the fall semester, if only from the standpoint of not having the freedom to ride all morning.
Finally, the end of the Tour will leave a giant void in the TV viewing spectrum. There is so NOTHING on TV. (600 channels and naught but junk.) For me, not a really big deal. I can read a book. But it introduces a vacuum that others will fill. (uuunnnhhhhhh....)
So Au Revoir, Le Tour! Catch you next year!
Monday, July 20, 2009
Jefferson 2009
Okay, Bonny, here it is. It's not really a race report, and I have no idea whether it will be funny or not. After 15 hours of internet teaching, I may not even be able to type!
For once I was actually calm before a race. Don't ask me why. The promise of good weather? The proximity of the race? Low expectations? Something to break up the tedium of my summer job?? In any event I was glad.
I prepared all my stuff the night before so all I had to do when the alarm sounded at 4 a.m. Sunday was roll out of bed, dress, slap some PB&J on a piece of white bread, grab a Diet Coke and head out into the very dark morning. (Really dark! Inside-the-basketball dark!) It really was an interesting sensation to drive in that kind of darkness. However, there was--literally--a bright spot: the new moon and the morning star in the eastern sky, right over my destination. (No, I did not expect three wise men with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. A few dozen competent race organizers I'll take.)
It didn't take me long on my chosen route of 155 to reach FM 279 and head along the eastern edge of Lake o'the Pines. I'd already dodged an opposum on the road in, and now I spotted a deer waiting to cross the road. Luckily the nature of the road kept my speed low enough I was able to avoid any accidents. Everything sure looked different in the dark. Little worms-and-six-pack shacks acquired a down-to-earth allure missing in daylight. By the time I turned west on 726, the eastern skybehind glowed purple-pink with the promise of a rising sun.
I found the entrance to the park quite easily. But when I made it to the entrance, I found the gates all locked and not another car in sight. Alright, it was 5:36 and I didn't expect anyone official before 6, but.... I did see one vehicle off in the direction of the transition area. An RV was parked near the entrance. But there was no one near enough to ask questions. After mulling it over for five minutes, two vehicles passed me by and headed off west. Since they looked like they knew where to go, I quickly hopped back in the car and followed. After a roundabout way we found ourselves very near the transition area and parked near the bathrooms. Disembarking from our respective vehicles, we still looked a bit lost. But I could see the bike racks and two people standing near them, so I took that as the place to go. I hoisted my pack and rolled my bike down the hill. I hung the bike on the rack nearest the bike exit, took out my camp chair, and sat.
Just sat. What else to do? Eventually a fellow with some air of authority approached me to say transition wasn't open yet, but rather than make me remove my bike he just said, in a friendly fashion, "Just go away." And he shooed me forth, but not before I asked him about packet pickup. He had no idea. Maybe near the pavilion.
To condense the next hour very simply: I spent a great deal of time either jogging or walking the distance from transition to the pavilion and back as one volunteer would direct me one way and another would send me back. Eventually they did set up packet pick up, but not at transition and not at the pavilion; rather, halfway in between, near the bathroom. I didn't breath easily until I got my race number. (By now fellow ETT folks had shown up so I had company.) I headed back down for body marking, then back up to wait for timing chips. Those took a while to set up but I was first in line to get mine. As I waited they unloaded a line of much-needed portajohns (the Ladeis' had no paper), and as soon as I got my chip I gave my greetings to the Green Goddess.
Set up transition area. Said hi to some folks. Needed to warm up. Howzabout hauling that swag bag back to the car? That would be a good jog. And so I did. By now lots of people on disc wheels were whizzing by to test out the bike course so it was duck-and-dodge. Not much tension on my end as I watched the late comers scramble for an open spot on already crowded bike racks. Eventually I grabbed my cap and goggles and headed to the beach and got in the water. Near shore the water clarity was good as was the temp. I did some easy strokes--too easy, really, in light of what lay in store.
I sat and waited on a concrete embankment with Ross Pritchard, who was sitting this race out and had an assignment as "official" club photographer. (The photos are his.) Steve and Alan were there for a while, and Kami. It was great fun watching the "clear" water trickle down my arms and legs in brown rivulets. Hmmmm....
About ten minutes for the first wave to go Kami and I headed to the water's edge. Again, unnaturally calm. Go figure. We "blue caps" of the second wave were consigned to wait as all individual males in their spiffing yellow latex caps prepared for the start. Nothing fancy. No gun. No whistle. Just a countdown from 1o on the PA system and "Go!" And they were off.
Kami and I waded into the water to wait for our two minute start. I submerged up to the neck to stay warm. (It wasn't that chilly for July, but the water was more comfortable.) Same laid back countdown, and then we were off. Things were thick. I stuck fairly close to the buoy line and so was fighting feet, legs, arms all the way. I never stopped, though. The OWS at Tyler State Park paid off in my ability to navigate without pulling up. Couldn't see much far ahead anyway. I figured as long as I was in the pack I was okay.
I made the first turn, and normally this is where things usually thin out, but not this year. We began to catch the slower men from the first wave so I had an entirely new set of arms, legs, etc., to battle. (Strangely, the men were easier. I could often split two and find a way through. The women--they ain't moving for anyone!) Made the second turn. This is where things have gone wrong in the past because I always pulled too far left and wasted time. This time I managed to stay straight and followed the buoys straight in.
I wish I had swum a few more strokes before standing up. For those tall guys, it may have been the right thing, but when I stood the water was still thigh deep. Nothing for it but to strip off the cap and goggles and slosh forward in a parody of a run. Had to run up sand and a bit more before crossing the timing mat.
At the bike rack I did things a bit differently. Usually I put my helmet on first but this time I worked from the ground up: shoes, then race belt, then helmet and sunglasses, before clopping the few yards to the mount line. Clipped in and headed out. I was so wet!! Water poured from under the helmet and other places. Luckily I wasn't chilled. First hill up to the dam--not bad. Did the last bit out of the saddle but the legs were fresh. On top of the dam I again departed from heretofore normal procedure and did not immediately gear up to the big chain ring but kept it small and spun for a couple of miles, averaging between 17.5 and 18.5 mph.
Turning off the dam, the real challenge began. These weren't big hills, just long ones. I'm guessing the maximum gradient was around 2-3%, but they went on for half a mile. I shifted smoothly from large to small gears, kept the cadence reasonably high (80s) even if the speed was 13-14 mph. Had some good recovery on the downhills. (Nothing like going aero and bombing down a hill at 28 mph.) I drank some Infinit every ten minutes or so. It was good (and necessary) but it clemmed up my mouth, making me wish for a nice swig of water to clear the decks.
Took forever to get to the turnaround, but on the way back seemed like more downhill than up. One point I was hammering downhill at 30 mph, and for a brief moment, I could almost--almost--imagine I was Fabian Cancellara. (Hah! He goes faster than that uphill!) Played leapfrog with one rider for a while until she (?) finally dropped back for good. Turned back on the dam, but only briefly as we were directed down the east side. It was a nice, long downhill/flat road, but it was merely the calm before the storm--and I knew it. IT was approaching. The Monster. The Golem. The...Dam Hill.
There. It loomed on the horizon like a puny East Texas alp. I could see ant-like figures climbing. The internal debate began. Ride it? Walk it? Ride it? Walk it? (Scenes of LBJ daisy flower commercial: BOOM!! "Johnson. You know he's right.") Approaching the foot, I put my fate in the hands of God and geared down and headed up. I remained in my next-to-smallest gear for most of the climb, and then down to the smallest for the rest. I used the "fog technique": pretend that there is a fog up ahead and you can't see the summit, so look nowhere but in front of the tire and churn it out. And it worked. I made it to the top, turning past a trooper directing traffic and headed back over the dam. I recovered very well, spinning along in the small ring. By the time I got to the final turn, I spotted Ross with his camera. I made some half-baked gesture before taking the turn. Shoulda been paying attention. The turn was about 130 degrees and I went almost too wide. I kept the speed reasonable on the way down and into T2.
I dismounted fine at the line and got my bike racked with no problem. Getting the helmet off proved a bit difficult. If I try to pull it up and off like a regular helmet it pulls my ears off, but forward and off, I lose my sunglasses. Oh, well. I sat down on my camp chair and put on my socks and shoes and ran off.
Felt fin heading up the slight rise to the park entrance, but after about 400 yards I felt a deep cramp in my lower-left abdomen--almost the groin. This usually happens to some degree off the bike and it will disappear after a while, but this got really intense and lasted for almost two miles. I stopped once to bend over but that didn't help. Adding to the "fun" of the effort, my right ear had water in it and I couldn't get rid of it. Woosh, woosh, woosh! I had an oceanic soundtrack accompanying my run.
My hope of following a good swim and a good ride with a good run faded quickly. I just kept moving and forgot about trying to pick up the pace. I saw the 1 mile marker. I hoped the pain would subside soon but it didn't. Where, oh where, was the turnaround? I couldn't see it. After an eternity I found it, but it still wasn't two miles in yet. Luckily the path was more downhill on the way back. Around the 2 mile point the abdominal cramp finally faded but then I felt a tightness in my left glute and both calves. (I'd hate to think what it might have been like if it had been hot!) Where, oh where, was the finish line??
At LAST I saw the inflatable arch and people standing around. Incapable of anything resembling a "kick" I at least determined to present good form in the last 200 yards. (It sure fooled Kami! Later she acted surprised when I said I'd experienced trouble on the run as she thought I'd looked "good" at the end.) I crossed the second mat and had to lean on the guy removing my timing chip. Duke took photos. (Oy! I hate to think what I looked like.) I sought out the huddle of finishers from the club--all looking better than me, or so it seemed.
The post-race bonk had already begun. I heard that the baked potatoes were ready so I got in line, fixed one up, and found a seat in the pavillion. I'm not overly found of these potatoes but it was the only game in town. In any event I hoped it would perk me up. When I'd eaten as much as I could stand, I found the trash and again sought out some more finishers. Then the PA said preliminary results were posted on the U-Haul truck so I went over to see what I could see. Took me a bit to find my group. 5 ladies in my group and I was 4th. What an ambiguous result! Not dead last, which is good, but so close to third (by one minute) always feels demoralizing. I knew I'd done my best but couldn't help but think, "If only I'd pushed harder on the run...."
I looked around but didn't see anything resembling post-race festivities. I was sweaty, stinky (really stinky!), and thoroughly without words or anything resembling social grace. So I went to the transition area to pack. The race organizers had already dismantled much of the area. (Alarmingly, there was no one there to check race numbers against bikes, but in afterthought, I realized since they hadn't required race numbers on the bikes, that would have proven impossible. Still, there should have been security.) I packed up my stuff. Alan Harris stopped by to say something but I really and truly couldn't think what to say, so he wandered off. (Sorry, Alan!) As I headed toward my car, I ran into Steve and Alan, and still found myself completely without words. I didn't even say "Good race!" or "See you later!" I just trundled off to my car, loaded it up, and headed out.
I managed to make it home before noon. (This race was actually closer to home than either Athens or Rose City.) Jim wasn't home. I turned on Le Tour but before I got caught up in it, I hopped in the shower. Boy, did that feel good! I felt halfway normal. I stretched out on the couch and watched the day's stage. I hoped to drift off to sleep, but texting and commercials kept me away.
Later that evening I checked for race results and found them posted around 5-ish. Imagine my surprise when I found my group and saw only four names, and my own in third place! (Perspective, though: 2 of the 3 Female Masters winners were from my age group, so that put me in fifth--just 1 competitive point for the club, but better than none!) My next thought was: what about my hardware? I texted Kami. She soon replied that when asked, Steve said there hadn't been any! Since Steve is one for jokes, I thought he was joking. Turns out he wasn't. I don't know why, but Sportspectrum didn't have the awards with them. No one believed they would actually mail them as promised, but I got an e-mail later that night from someone relaying that message. (Next day I received an e-mail from Sportspectrum saying we could pick them up if possible. So yes, Virginia, there is hardware after all, but it's gonna take some effort to get it home! Luckily my folks are headed over there Thursday and will be able to pick mine up as well as others in our club.)
So that was Jefferson 2009. I hadn't done it since 2006 because it's usually so hot and because I hate that hill. But I think I'll do it again because it's just so convenient. And I'll try and be a more upbeat person at the end!
For once I was actually calm before a race. Don't ask me why. The promise of good weather? The proximity of the race? Low expectations? Something to break up the tedium of my summer job?? In any event I was glad.
I prepared all my stuff the night before so all I had to do when the alarm sounded at 4 a.m. Sunday was roll out of bed, dress, slap some PB&J on a piece of white bread, grab a Diet Coke and head out into the very dark morning. (Really dark! Inside-the-basketball dark!) It really was an interesting sensation to drive in that kind of darkness. However, there was--literally--a bright spot: the new moon and the morning star in the eastern sky, right over my destination. (No, I did not expect three wise men with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. A few dozen competent race organizers I'll take.)
It didn't take me long on my chosen route of 155 to reach FM 279 and head along the eastern edge of Lake o'the Pines. I'd already dodged an opposum on the road in, and now I spotted a deer waiting to cross the road. Luckily the nature of the road kept my speed low enough I was able to avoid any accidents. Everything sure looked different in the dark. Little worms-and-six-pack shacks acquired a down-to-earth allure missing in daylight. By the time I turned west on 726, the eastern skybehind glowed purple-pink with the promise of a rising sun.
I found the entrance to the park quite easily. But when I made it to the entrance, I found the gates all locked and not another car in sight. Alright, it was 5:36 and I didn't expect anyone official before 6, but.... I did see one vehicle off in the direction of the transition area. An RV was parked near the entrance. But there was no one near enough to ask questions. After mulling it over for five minutes, two vehicles passed me by and headed off west. Since they looked like they knew where to go, I quickly hopped back in the car and followed. After a roundabout way we found ourselves very near the transition area and parked near the bathrooms. Disembarking from our respective vehicles, we still looked a bit lost. But I could see the bike racks and two people standing near them, so I took that as the place to go. I hoisted my pack and rolled my bike down the hill. I hung the bike on the rack nearest the bike exit, took out my camp chair, and sat.
Just sat. What else to do? Eventually a fellow with some air of authority approached me to say transition wasn't open yet, but rather than make me remove my bike he just said, in a friendly fashion, "Just go away." And he shooed me forth, but not before I asked him about packet pickup. He had no idea. Maybe near the pavilion.
To condense the next hour very simply: I spent a great deal of time either jogging or walking the distance from transition to the pavilion and back as one volunteer would direct me one way and another would send me back. Eventually they did set up packet pick up, but not at transition and not at the pavilion; rather, halfway in between, near the bathroom. I didn't breath easily until I got my race number. (By now fellow ETT folks had shown up so I had company.) I headed back down for body marking, then back up to wait for timing chips. Those took a while to set up but I was first in line to get mine. As I waited they unloaded a line of much-needed portajohns (the Ladeis' had no paper), and as soon as I got my chip I gave my greetings to the Green Goddess.
Set up transition area. Said hi to some folks. Needed to warm up. Howzabout hauling that swag bag back to the car? That would be a good jog. And so I did. By now lots of people on disc wheels were whizzing by to test out the bike course so it was duck-and-dodge. Not much tension on my end as I watched the late comers scramble for an open spot on already crowded bike racks. Eventually I grabbed my cap and goggles and headed to the beach and got in the water. Near shore the water clarity was good as was the temp. I did some easy strokes--too easy, really, in light of what lay in store.
I sat and waited on a concrete embankment with Ross Pritchard, who was sitting this race out and had an assignment as "official" club photographer. (The photos are his.) Steve and Alan were there for a while, and Kami. It was great fun watching the "clear" water trickle down my arms and legs in brown rivulets. Hmmmm....
About ten minutes for the first wave to go Kami and I headed to the water's edge. Again, unnaturally calm. Go figure. We "blue caps" of the second wave were consigned to wait as all individual males in their spiffing yellow latex caps prepared for the start. Nothing fancy. No gun. No whistle. Just a countdown from 1o on the PA system and "Go!" And they were off.
Kami and I waded into the water to wait for our two minute start. I submerged up to the neck to stay warm. (It wasn't that chilly for July, but the water was more comfortable.) Same laid back countdown, and then we were off. Things were thick. I stuck fairly close to the buoy line and so was fighting feet, legs, arms all the way. I never stopped, though. The OWS at Tyler State Park paid off in my ability to navigate without pulling up. Couldn't see much far ahead anyway. I figured as long as I was in the pack I was okay.
I made the first turn, and normally this is where things usually thin out, but not this year. We began to catch the slower men from the first wave so I had an entirely new set of arms, legs, etc., to battle. (Strangely, the men were easier. I could often split two and find a way through. The women--they ain't moving for anyone!) Made the second turn. This is where things have gone wrong in the past because I always pulled too far left and wasted time. This time I managed to stay straight and followed the buoys straight in.
I wish I had swum a few more strokes before standing up. For those tall guys, it may have been the right thing, but when I stood the water was still thigh deep. Nothing for it but to strip off the cap and goggles and slosh forward in a parody of a run. Had to run up sand and a bit more before crossing the timing mat.
At the bike rack I did things a bit differently. Usually I put my helmet on first but this time I worked from the ground up: shoes, then race belt, then helmet and sunglasses, before clopping the few yards to the mount line. Clipped in and headed out. I was so wet!! Water poured from under the helmet and other places. Luckily I wasn't chilled. First hill up to the dam--not bad. Did the last bit out of the saddle but the legs were fresh. On top of the dam I again departed from heretofore normal procedure and did not immediately gear up to the big chain ring but kept it small and spun for a couple of miles, averaging between 17.5 and 18.5 mph.
Turning off the dam, the real challenge began. These weren't big hills, just long ones. I'm guessing the maximum gradient was around 2-3%, but they went on for half a mile. I shifted smoothly from large to small gears, kept the cadence reasonably high (80s) even if the speed was 13-14 mph. Had some good recovery on the downhills. (Nothing like going aero and bombing down a hill at 28 mph.) I drank some Infinit every ten minutes or so. It was good (and necessary) but it clemmed up my mouth, making me wish for a nice swig of water to clear the decks.
Took forever to get to the turnaround, but on the way back seemed like more downhill than up. One point I was hammering downhill at 30 mph, and for a brief moment, I could almost--almost--imagine I was Fabian Cancellara. (Hah! He goes faster than that uphill!) Played leapfrog with one rider for a while until she (?) finally dropped back for good. Turned back on the dam, but only briefly as we were directed down the east side. It was a nice, long downhill/flat road, but it was merely the calm before the storm--and I knew it. IT was approaching. The Monster. The Golem. The...Dam Hill.
There. It loomed on the horizon like a puny East Texas alp. I could see ant-like figures climbing. The internal debate began. Ride it? Walk it? Ride it? Walk it? (Scenes of LBJ daisy flower commercial: BOOM!! "Johnson. You know he's right.") Approaching the foot, I put my fate in the hands of God and geared down and headed up. I remained in my next-to-smallest gear for most of the climb, and then down to the smallest for the rest. I used the "fog technique": pretend that there is a fog up ahead and you can't see the summit, so look nowhere but in front of the tire and churn it out. And it worked. I made it to the top, turning past a trooper directing traffic and headed back over the dam. I recovered very well, spinning along in the small ring. By the time I got to the final turn, I spotted Ross with his camera. I made some half-baked gesture before taking the turn. Shoulda been paying attention. The turn was about 130 degrees and I went almost too wide. I kept the speed reasonable on the way down and into T2.
I dismounted fine at the line and got my bike racked with no problem. Getting the helmet off proved a bit difficult. If I try to pull it up and off like a regular helmet it pulls my ears off, but forward and off, I lose my sunglasses. Oh, well. I sat down on my camp chair and put on my socks and shoes and ran off.
Felt fin heading up the slight rise to the park entrance, but after about 400 yards I felt a deep cramp in my lower-left abdomen--almost the groin. This usually happens to some degree off the bike and it will disappear after a while, but this got really intense and lasted for almost two miles. I stopped once to bend over but that didn't help. Adding to the "fun" of the effort, my right ear had water in it and I couldn't get rid of it. Woosh, woosh, woosh! I had an oceanic soundtrack accompanying my run.
My hope of following a good swim and a good ride with a good run faded quickly. I just kept moving and forgot about trying to pick up the pace. I saw the 1 mile marker. I hoped the pain would subside soon but it didn't. Where, oh where, was the turnaround? I couldn't see it. After an eternity I found it, but it still wasn't two miles in yet. Luckily the path was more downhill on the way back. Around the 2 mile point the abdominal cramp finally faded but then I felt a tightness in my left glute and both calves. (I'd hate to think what it might have been like if it had been hot!) Where, oh where, was the finish line??
At LAST I saw the inflatable arch and people standing around. Incapable of anything resembling a "kick" I at least determined to present good form in the last 200 yards. (It sure fooled Kami! Later she acted surprised when I said I'd experienced trouble on the run as she thought I'd looked "good" at the end.) I crossed the second mat and had to lean on the guy removing my timing chip. Duke took photos. (Oy! I hate to think what I looked like.) I sought out the huddle of finishers from the club--all looking better than me, or so it seemed.
The post-race bonk had already begun. I heard that the baked potatoes were ready so I got in line, fixed one up, and found a seat in the pavillion. I'm not overly found of these potatoes but it was the only game in town. In any event I hoped it would perk me up. When I'd eaten as much as I could stand, I found the trash and again sought out some more finishers. Then the PA said preliminary results were posted on the U-Haul truck so I went over to see what I could see. Took me a bit to find my group. 5 ladies in my group and I was 4th. What an ambiguous result! Not dead last, which is good, but so close to third (by one minute) always feels demoralizing. I knew I'd done my best but couldn't help but think, "If only I'd pushed harder on the run...."
I looked around but didn't see anything resembling post-race festivities. I was sweaty, stinky (really stinky!), and thoroughly without words or anything resembling social grace. So I went to the transition area to pack. The race organizers had already dismantled much of the area. (Alarmingly, there was no one there to check race numbers against bikes, but in afterthought, I realized since they hadn't required race numbers on the bikes, that would have proven impossible. Still, there should have been security.) I packed up my stuff. Alan Harris stopped by to say something but I really and truly couldn't think what to say, so he wandered off. (Sorry, Alan!) As I headed toward my car, I ran into Steve and Alan, and still found myself completely without words. I didn't even say "Good race!" or "See you later!" I just trundled off to my car, loaded it up, and headed out.
I managed to make it home before noon. (This race was actually closer to home than either Athens or Rose City.) Jim wasn't home. I turned on Le Tour but before I got caught up in it, I hopped in the shower. Boy, did that feel good! I felt halfway normal. I stretched out on the couch and watched the day's stage. I hoped to drift off to sleep, but texting and commercials kept me away.
Later that evening I checked for race results and found them posted around 5-ish. Imagine my surprise when I found my group and saw only four names, and my own in third place! (Perspective, though: 2 of the 3 Female Masters winners were from my age group, so that put me in fifth--just 1 competitive point for the club, but better than none!) My next thought was: what about my hardware? I texted Kami. She soon replied that when asked, Steve said there hadn't been any! Since Steve is one for jokes, I thought he was joking. Turns out he wasn't. I don't know why, but Sportspectrum didn't have the awards with them. No one believed they would actually mail them as promised, but I got an e-mail later that night from someone relaying that message. (Next day I received an e-mail from Sportspectrum saying we could pick them up if possible. So yes, Virginia, there is hardware after all, but it's gonna take some effort to get it home! Luckily my folks are headed over there Thursday and will be able to pick mine up as well as others in our club.)
So that was Jefferson 2009. I hadn't done it since 2006 because it's usually so hot and because I hate that hill. But I think I'll do it again because it's just so convenient. And I'll try and be a more upbeat person at the end!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)