After being with my wife Janine for 15 years, I’ve come to the realization, actually came to the realization long ago, that I’m not worthy of my membership in the man club. Occasionally I may open a jar or lift a heavy object (not too heavy mind you) or get us to our destination without asking for directions, but not nearly enough to assuage my fragile male ego and maintain my man certification in good standing.
When faced with a spouse or partner who consistently excels at an athletic pursuit you yourself also dabble in without the stellar results achieved by said spouse, most men resort to buying large trucks, growing a goatee, or riding a Harley Davidson. Oh, well, yes, I did buy and ride that crotch rocket motorcycle for a few years, but that does not count since I sold it to buy a Janine a new triathlon bike so she could go even faster.
What does this have to do with the TBF Tri 4 Real #3 Olympic distance triathlon this past Sunday you may ask? Well, what was left of my brittle id was shattered into tiny little pieces when Janine completed her trifecta of first place age group finishes to win the overall series title. She smashed the competition by over 20 minutes to win. She joins our own Elite triathlete Clancy as a series champion.
I’ve come to grips with the fact that Janine will be on the podium (despite popping out twins less than a year ago, being in Dara Torres age group, and working a full time job) and I will be taking the pictures from the crowd. Really, I’m OK with it, really. I don’t need my man card anymore anyways. What good is it other than for a discount at Hooters or 10% off motor oil at Kragens? I’m still a man, right? Just because my wife schools me everytime we race together doesn’t mean I’m any less of a man, does it? I still have that subscription to Maxim and can fix a leaky faucet (ah, c’mon, I only called my friend Randy twice for help with that faucet). Those things count, don’t they?
A few others joined us for Rancho Seco last weekend. Christy and Patrick were there with Christy going the distance and Patrick doing volunteer duty. Christy raced to a solid 23rd in her AG. Scott B. came out for his first TBF Tri 4 Real and knocked out a 19th AG, 73rd overall. Clancy scored a 4th AG despite more wedding planning than training the last few months. I eeked out a 6th AG and 15th OA with an improvement in my run time I credit to Tuesday morning track workouts and Friday morning tempo runs with Simon.
Janine offered to let me hold her series champion trophy and to even wear her series champion shirt to work on Monday, but these kind gestures were just not enough to repair my ego and restore my membership in the man club. I think my best plan is to accept my fate, be proud of Janine’s accomplishments, and keep training.
Although…I did hear there is a big sale on trucks down at the Chevy dealer.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
TBF Tri 4 Real #2
Three of us represented FMRC at this past Sunday's TBF Tri 4 Real.Janine, Steve Sherman, and I battled the perfect weather, relativelyflat course, and great race organization to have a great time andtake home some schwag.My very talented wife, Janine, rocked the women's 40-44 age group to once again take home 1st place gold. Needless to say, with two 1stplace wins in the Tri 4 Real summer series, she stands an excellent chance of taking home the series prize. The last and final race is August 3rd.Steve came out for the first time to try his hand at the Rancho race. He raced to an impressive 8th AG and 52nd OA in his very competitve age group. He commented after the race that he particularly enjoyed the heat and dust during the second half of the run. I'm sure if he decided to come back in August, the conditions will meet his expectations even more. I had a mediocre swim, but was surprised to find I beat a friend from Masters, Dave Simons, out of the water and on to the bike. I was a bit dismayed when he went by me at mile 5, so I sucked it up and tried to stay with him. I kept about a 5 bike length gap with him until the turn around at mile 12, and then he disappeared. I hoped he had been abducted by aliens, but no such luck as I saw his bike in T2. Trying to stay with him did allow me to set a new PR on the bike, so not all was lost. I chased on the run and pulled backsome of his time coming in about 45 seconds behind him good for 4thAG and 11 OA.I thought as I got older my competition would either 1)get slower 2)quit triathlon to play more golf or 3) die off, but it seems they are just getting faster. The overall winner for the men was John Murphy from San Francisco with a time of 2:01. If he shows up next month, I'm thinking I'm going to have to call up Tonya Harding and see if her ex-husband can help me out otherwise I'm going to have to consider some doping.
Pacific Crest Triathlons 2008
We thought taking a road trip to Sunriver Oregon with our 10 month old twins would be a great way to relieve work and home stress. To even further increase the calming effects of our vacation we decided to each sign up for a triathlon. Janine imagined back in December she would have plenty of time to train for a ½ Ironman in between work travel, caring for the boys, and keeping me in line while I planned on doing an Oly a month to prepare for Age Group Nationals in September. The Pacific Crest triathlons were the perfect setup for our craziness. Janine would race on Saturday and I would push the boys around to see her and I would race on Sunday and she would sit in the air conditioned comfort of the cabin sipping Margaritas.
We invited our friends Jan, Jen, and Jayden because we wanted to maximize the J-ness of our trip. Jan was prepping for a sub-4:30 go at the Vineman 70.3 so he signed up for the ½ Ironman at Pac Crest while his wife went for the Olympic distance race to keep me company. 3-year old Jayden had his own event to plan for, entertaining two little boys for 6 days while their parents were off racing in the heat drenched high desert.
Preparing and packing for a 6 day road trip with twin infants is not quite the same as the planning and logistics of the Normandy invasion, but at times seemed awfully close. I started a few months ago when I realized getting two bikes, two babies, two feeding chairs, a double jog stroller, a portable crib, triathlon gear, clothes, food, and toys into anything smaller than a semi trailer was going to take either an act of organization worthy of the Berlin airlift or I was going to need a roof top carrier and a hitch rack. Thanks to the magic of the Internets, I soon had a Thule coffin shaped cargo box for the top of the Pacifica and nifty new hitch bicycle rack. I was pretty proud of myself at this point until I woke one morning and happen to be bending down behind the Pacifica to retrieve the morning paper and discovered it did not have a hitch. You would think that would have been the first thing I checked, but alas, it was not. I quickly scurried to my trusty laptop and looked up hitches. Lucky for me, before anyone could ask where I planned to plug in my nifty new hitch rack, I was at the local U-Haul having the hitch installed.
The day arrived quickly for our departure and the plan was to get up in the wee hours , transfer the boys, hopefully still sleeping, from their cribs to car seats, and get at least 4 hours of the drive under our belt before we received our stereo wake-up feed us now scream. All went according to plan except neither TriTwinMom nor I was prepared to drive at 3:30AM. Somehow we managed to make it Redding and a conveniently located Dennys. We pulled in, unloaded the boys, descended on the poor unsuspecting Denny’s denizens, and occupied a corner booth. After overcoming my shock that a Grand Slam breakfast was no longer $1.99 (it’s been awhile since I visited Dennys) we ordered and proceeded to feed the boys while they charmed the waitresses and customers alike. As a proud papa, I have to say our boys garnered the majority of attention from the wait staff to the detriment of the other patrons.
The remainder of the trip north passed smoothly with the boys alternating between sleeping, playing with Mom, and screaming for their next bottle. We all arrived safely in Sunriver and invaded, I mean moved into our rental cabin. We scoped out the courses, did a short swim , drove the bike course, and took the boys for a run to recon the run course. The weather was wonderful, but we kept hearing from the local news that a heat wave was coming on Saturday and Sunday just in time for the races.
Race morning for Janine and Jan did not come too early due to the very civilized 9AM start time. I shuttled them to Wikiup reservoir with Josh riding shotgun. Jake was still sleeping when we left the cabin, a phenomenon we had not experienced since he came into our lives. I dropped our long course competitors at the swim start and headed back to Sunriver. The Pacific Crest triathlons are point to point races, so there are separate T1 and T2s about 28 miles apart. The long course racers circumnavigate Mt. Bachelor between T1 and T2 while the Olympic competitors take the direct route to T2. Not long after arriving back at the cabin, in walks Janine with her bike in tow. Unfortunately, after a stellar swim, her crank arm decided to mutiny and jump ship at mile 10. She was able to negotiate a ride back to T1 and from there another ride in the Gear Truck to the Finish Line. The Finish was about ½ mile from the cabin, so she walked from there. Once home, most sane people would have called it quits, but Janine kept muttering something about getting her money’s worth and headed out to T2 to run the remaining half marathon. At this point the temperature was 97°F, she had a 2 mile run to reach T2 in her trail shoes, a switch to her racing flats, then a half marathon in scorching heat and 4000 foot altitude. She ran a respectful sub 2 hour half and received her finisher’s medal and t-shirt. I offered to cut 1/3rd from the medal and shirt, but she was still annoyed with my bike maintenance skills or lack thereof that allowed her crank arm to fall off and threatened me with bodily harm.
After cracking 5 hours at Wildflower, Jan set a new goal of going sub 4:45 in a half Ironman, so needless to say he was a stress monkey up until race day. He played footsie with the lead swimmers and came out of the water with the race leaders, then set a blistering pace on the bike averaging an amazing 30 MPH on the last 18 miles of the bike (it is partially downhill, but still…). He suffered on the run due to killing himself on the bike, but managed a sub 1:35 for the half marathon. He met his goal of breaking 4:45 by coming in 4:44 good for 3rd in his Age Group and 15th overall. The overall winner of the race, Matt Lieto, also in Jan’s 30-34 AG, finished in an astounding 4:10.
My race the next day was pretty straightforward. I had a good swim, although I think it might have been a bit long evidenced by my and my competitor’s times. The bike was extremely fast with a good 12-15 miles being either flat or downhill. I fell into the trap of riding much harder and faster lured by my bike computer flashing 30…31…32 MPH for such a long period of time. When I arrived at T2, I was done. My legs felt like they had been drained of go juice, so I literally slogged the first few miles of the 10K. Seeing Janine and the boys at mile 2 and having Jan yell something about moving my arms helped spur me on. I finished with the temperatures already hitting the high 90’s and was pleasantly surprised I placed 3rd in my AG and 9th overall. My prize was a nice Widmer pint glass and a coupon for a free beer. I would not recommend a beer shortly after a race as proper recovery fuel or hydration, but it sure tasted good. Apparently another competitor in my AG was found in the middle of the night and his chip time placed him in front of me, so the official results say I came in 4th, but I’m keeping my medal and glass and good luck getting any of that beer back. Jan’s wife, Jennifer, racing for the 1st time in 5 years and only having ridden her bike outdoors twice before the race, cracked the top ten in her AG.
Normally a race report would end after the race ended, but not in this case. We stayed in Sunriver for an additional 3 days to do a little biking, swimming, and hiking with the boys. Our remaining time was uneventful except for 1 attack by carnivorous mosquitoes and a close encountered with a cell-phone using, cigarette smoking, loudmouth jackass while we tried to have a nice picnic next to the Deschutes river. We deployed to another location and had a pleasant time. The eventful part of our post-race experience came when we started the return home process.
Jan, Jen, and Jayden left Sunriver about 1 ½ hours before we were able to mobilize. When we finally hit the road, we received a call from Jan informing us that their car was on fire. I said “ha ha, funny joke”, but he replied, “no joke, our car will probably be ashes by the time you get here”. He was right, when we arrived; we witnessed the very sad sight of the three of them standing on the side of the road just north of Klamath Falls, next o a pile of their belongings and the smoldering remains of their 2001 Dodge Intrepid. We slowed down so we could properly rubberneck and held out some marshmallows to take advantage of the nice carbeque. I don’t think they saw the humor in it, but they were in surprising good spirits. Somehow we managed to get them and all of their belongings down to the Hertz counter at the Klamath Falls Airport so they could rent a car. After settling with the rental company, the tow truck company, and the fire department, we all went out for some lunch. When I asked them where they would like to eat, they said anything was fine…just not BBQ!
We invited our friends Jan, Jen, and Jayden because we wanted to maximize the J-ness of our trip. Jan was prepping for a sub-4:30 go at the Vineman 70.3 so he signed up for the ½ Ironman at Pac Crest while his wife went for the Olympic distance race to keep me company. 3-year old Jayden had his own event to plan for, entertaining two little boys for 6 days while their parents were off racing in the heat drenched high desert.
Preparing and packing for a 6 day road trip with twin infants is not quite the same as the planning and logistics of the Normandy invasion, but at times seemed awfully close. I started a few months ago when I realized getting two bikes, two babies, two feeding chairs, a double jog stroller, a portable crib, triathlon gear, clothes, food, and toys into anything smaller than a semi trailer was going to take either an act of organization worthy of the Berlin airlift or I was going to need a roof top carrier and a hitch rack. Thanks to the magic of the Internets, I soon had a Thule coffin shaped cargo box for the top of the Pacifica and nifty new hitch bicycle rack. I was pretty proud of myself at this point until I woke one morning and happen to be bending down behind the Pacifica to retrieve the morning paper and discovered it did not have a hitch. You would think that would have been the first thing I checked, but alas, it was not. I quickly scurried to my trusty laptop and looked up hitches. Lucky for me, before anyone could ask where I planned to plug in my nifty new hitch rack, I was at the local U-Haul having the hitch installed.
The day arrived quickly for our departure and the plan was to get up in the wee hours , transfer the boys, hopefully still sleeping, from their cribs to car seats, and get at least 4 hours of the drive under our belt before we received our stereo wake-up feed us now scream. All went according to plan except neither TriTwinMom nor I was prepared to drive at 3:30AM. Somehow we managed to make it Redding and a conveniently located Dennys. We pulled in, unloaded the boys, descended on the poor unsuspecting Denny’s denizens, and occupied a corner booth. After overcoming my shock that a Grand Slam breakfast was no longer $1.99 (it’s been awhile since I visited Dennys) we ordered and proceeded to feed the boys while they charmed the waitresses and customers alike. As a proud papa, I have to say our boys garnered the majority of attention from the wait staff to the detriment of the other patrons.
The remainder of the trip north passed smoothly with the boys alternating between sleeping, playing with Mom, and screaming for their next bottle. We all arrived safely in Sunriver and invaded, I mean moved into our rental cabin. We scoped out the courses, did a short swim , drove the bike course, and took the boys for a run to recon the run course. The weather was wonderful, but we kept hearing from the local news that a heat wave was coming on Saturday and Sunday just in time for the races.
Race morning for Janine and Jan did not come too early due to the very civilized 9AM start time. I shuttled them to Wikiup reservoir with Josh riding shotgun. Jake was still sleeping when we left the cabin, a phenomenon we had not experienced since he came into our lives. I dropped our long course competitors at the swim start and headed back to Sunriver. The Pacific Crest triathlons are point to point races, so there are separate T1 and T2s about 28 miles apart. The long course racers circumnavigate Mt. Bachelor between T1 and T2 while the Olympic competitors take the direct route to T2. Not long after arriving back at the cabin, in walks Janine with her bike in tow. Unfortunately, after a stellar swim, her crank arm decided to mutiny and jump ship at mile 10. She was able to negotiate a ride back to T1 and from there another ride in the Gear Truck to the Finish Line. The Finish was about ½ mile from the cabin, so she walked from there. Once home, most sane people would have called it quits, but Janine kept muttering something about getting her money’s worth and headed out to T2 to run the remaining half marathon. At this point the temperature was 97°F, she had a 2 mile run to reach T2 in her trail shoes, a switch to her racing flats, then a half marathon in scorching heat and 4000 foot altitude. She ran a respectful sub 2 hour half and received her finisher’s medal and t-shirt. I offered to cut 1/3rd from the medal and shirt, but she was still annoyed with my bike maintenance skills or lack thereof that allowed her crank arm to fall off and threatened me with bodily harm.
After cracking 5 hours at Wildflower, Jan set a new goal of going sub 4:45 in a half Ironman, so needless to say he was a stress monkey up until race day. He played footsie with the lead swimmers and came out of the water with the race leaders, then set a blistering pace on the bike averaging an amazing 30 MPH on the last 18 miles of the bike (it is partially downhill, but still…). He suffered on the run due to killing himself on the bike, but managed a sub 1:35 for the half marathon. He met his goal of breaking 4:45 by coming in 4:44 good for 3rd in his Age Group and 15th overall. The overall winner of the race, Matt Lieto, also in Jan’s 30-34 AG, finished in an astounding 4:10.
My race the next day was pretty straightforward. I had a good swim, although I think it might have been a bit long evidenced by my and my competitor’s times. The bike was extremely fast with a good 12-15 miles being either flat or downhill. I fell into the trap of riding much harder and faster lured by my bike computer flashing 30…31…32 MPH for such a long period of time. When I arrived at T2, I was done. My legs felt like they had been drained of go juice, so I literally slogged the first few miles of the 10K. Seeing Janine and the boys at mile 2 and having Jan yell something about moving my arms helped spur me on. I finished with the temperatures already hitting the high 90’s and was pleasantly surprised I placed 3rd in my AG and 9th overall. My prize was a nice Widmer pint glass and a coupon for a free beer. I would not recommend a beer shortly after a race as proper recovery fuel or hydration, but it sure tasted good. Apparently another competitor in my AG was found in the middle of the night and his chip time placed him in front of me, so the official results say I came in 4th, but I’m keeping my medal and glass and good luck getting any of that beer back. Jan’s wife, Jennifer, racing for the 1st time in 5 years and only having ridden her bike outdoors twice before the race, cracked the top ten in her AG.
Normally a race report would end after the race ended, but not in this case. We stayed in Sunriver for an additional 3 days to do a little biking, swimming, and hiking with the boys. Our remaining time was uneventful except for 1 attack by carnivorous mosquitoes and a close encountered with a cell-phone using, cigarette smoking, loudmouth jackass while we tried to have a nice picnic next to the Deschutes river. We deployed to another location and had a pleasant time. The eventful part of our post-race experience came when we started the return home process.
Jan, Jen, and Jayden left Sunriver about 1 ½ hours before we were able to mobilize. When we finally hit the road, we received a call from Jan informing us that their car was on fire. I said “ha ha, funny joke”, but he replied, “no joke, our car will probably be ashes by the time you get here”. He was right, when we arrived; we witnessed the very sad sight of the three of them standing on the side of the road just north of Klamath Falls, next o a pile of their belongings and the smoldering remains of their 2001 Dodge Intrepid. We slowed down so we could properly rubberneck and held out some marshmallows to take advantage of the nice carbeque. I don’t think they saw the humor in it, but they were in surprising good spirits. Somehow we managed to get them and all of their belongings down to the Hertz counter at the Klamath Falls Airport so they could rent a car. After settling with the rental company, the tow truck company, and the fire department, we all went out for some lunch. When I asked them where they would like to eat, they said anything was fine…just not BBQ!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Remiss
I've been very remiss in my posting of late. As you all know, we doubled the size of our family. We now have a strong triathlon team with an alternate in case Dad isn't racing fast enough. The baby Tricyclists are doing great, they are already out-pacing Mom and Dad in the important training discipline of recovery sleep. The little ones are logging a good 18-20 hours of sleep a day while Mom and Dad are happy with their 4 to 6 hours. Ahh, life is good.
We've mastered the double jog stroller, even dragging our four legged family member along for the run. Last weekend the entire squad knocked out a good 12-miler, although I think the boys slept through most of it.
I commented to a friend before the boys arrived stating "how hard could it (parenthood) be, I've done an Ironman!" When I dragged myself to work the other day and was nodding off in a mid morning meeting, she reminded me of those fateful words. Wow, what a stupid thing to say!
We've mastered the double jog stroller, even dragging our four legged family member along for the run. Last weekend the entire squad knocked out a good 12-miler, although I think the boys slept through most of it.
I commented to a friend before the boys arrived stating "how hard could it (parenthood) be, I've done an Ironman!" When I dragged myself to work the other day and was nodding off in a mid morning meeting, she reminded me of those fateful words. Wow, what a stupid thing to say!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Tricyclists X 2
The Tricyclist family has doubled! Two new tricycles arrived last week. They are already in training for the next big fun adventure. I can tell they will be much faster swimmers than Dad with an impressive 4 foot arm span and ankles that actually bend to the horizontal, again unlike Dad's, making them perfectly suited for future triathlon glory. Mrs. Tricyclist is recovering nicely, although I had to hide her running shoes, bike cleats, and goggles so she would actually get some much earned rest. She's itching to start training again so she can show the boys how Mommy can wup Daddy's butt. Dad is still in a bit of shock wondering how he could possibly have helped produce two such perfect little guys.
My Blog:
I've created this blog to have a place to share the various stories I've written over the years about the athletic (and not so athletic) adventures my wife and I have pursued. We are both competitive age-group triathletes: Mrs. Tricyclist is certainly the one with more talent and more 1st place trophies.
My race stories are more than just a play by play recap of the day's events. I try to interject some humor and observations about the people and places we encounter as we walk and race down lifes' roads. I will also occasionally toss in a story unrelated to triathlons or running, just to keep things interesting.
I will be adding new content over the next few days plus uploading some of my classic stories from the Hood to Coast Relay, Athens Marathon, and other adventures.
Hope you enjoy. Please leave a comment and let me know you stopped by.
My Blog:
I've created this blog to have a place to share the various stories I've written over the years about the athletic (and not so athletic) adventures my wife and I have pursued. We are both competitive age-group triathletes: Mrs. Tricyclist is certainly the one with more talent and more 1st place trophies.
My race stories are more than just a play by play recap of the day's events. I try to interject some humor and observations about the people and places we encounter as we walk and race down lifes' roads. I will also occasionally toss in a story unrelated to triathlons or running, just to keep things interesting.
I will be adding new content over the next few days plus uploading some of my classic stories from the Hood to Coast Relay, Athens Marathon, and other adventures.
Hope you enjoy. Please leave a comment and let me know you stopped by.
The Right Spin
The Right Spin
spin: to cause to have a particular bias; influence in a certain direction; to pedal in a smooth even circle.
I often supplement my triathlon training with an indoor cycling class called “spinning”. Thirty to fifty gym goers cram themselves into a converted aerobics studio adorned in their best Lycra and Spandex to pedal furiously in place to the pre-recorded sound track chosen by the perky purveyor of pedal prowess, the spin instructor. One of my friends, Tom, makes his living as a spin instructor while another, Steve, supplements his triathlon addiction with twice weekly forays into spin instructordom. He holds down a well paying day job in the tech sector, but due to the triathlon monkey riding on his back, he is forced to spin for money at a local health club.
Tom has perfected the art of spin. His classes are the only ones I know that require students to line up days in advance to get a bike. For his special themed spin events, some students have been known to pay line sitters to queue up days in advance camping overnight in front of the spin studio living off Powerbar crumbs and left over sports drinks. Tom has been known to hold Valentine spin classes, Christmas and Halloween classes, a Rocky Horror Picture Show class, and the famous Saturday Night Live spin class. All the classes require students to conform their dress to the theme causing many a strange site at the gym. For this past Valentine’s spin class, I wore my trusty red t-shirt with the slogan “I may not be pretty, but I can lift heavy things” emblazoned across the front. As I walked to the studio to relieve my line sitter, I was passed by a 225 lb Cupid dressed only in a diaper, golden wings, a little bow and arrow, and a matting of body hair that challenged a hirsute grizzly bear. If that was not nightmare worthy enough, the same fellow attended the Rocky Horror class wearing even less in the lead role of Rocky and sporting even more body hair glistening with a healthy application of baby oil.
As I have learned over the years, there is more than one kind of spin. I’ve worked in marketing for over 15 years now. I make my living creating the right spin for a variety of products ranging from blood tests for early detection of cancer to products that allow people with COPD to breathe easier. Some of my peers have spent their careers marketing such fascinating products as KC Masterpiece BBQ Sauce, Bleach, Combat Ant & Roach Traps, and Kingsford Charcoal. Believe it or not, all these products are manufactured by the same company, Clorox. I realize marketing is not as glamorous a career as say a neurosurgeon, a firefighter, an astronaut (even a depends wearing, cross country driving, sociopathic one), or a reality TV star, but I like to think that I market products to improve the quality of life for people. I suppose my peers at Clorox can say the same thing, but I still struggle with the societal benefits of Pine Scented Bleach or KC Masterpiece BBQ Sauce with Real Hickory Smoke Flavor. Maybe Clorox should start combining some of their products; like for example, charcoal and BBQ sauce. They could launch a new line of KC Masterpiece Flavored Kingsford Charcoal. I can just see the advertisements “Forget the hassle of marinating your meat for hours or endlessly brushing on sauce while you grill…Introducing KC Masterpiece Flavored Charcoal…the latest invention from the grill masters at Kingsford”. Or, who could resist Combat Roach Traps – Now with Pine Scented Bleach for easy clean-up and odor control. Or Clorox could even go for that breakthrough innovation – Combat Ant & Roach Traps infused with all the BBQ goodness of KC Masterpiece. Your ant and roach problems are solved and the little critters go to the big roach motel in the sky with BBQ smeared smiles. This kind of out of the box thinking would certainly move my Clorox peers up the ladder of societal benefit, if not a full rung, at least half a rung.
We all spin in one way or another. Lately, if you have been paying attention to the news, spin has almost become synonymous with “lying” or “malicious misdirection”. The elegant art of spin has become corrupted by those who wish to avoid the negative fallout of poor decisions or cover-up some nefarious scandal. Spin Doctors are brought in to apply a nice shiny coat to the scandal plagued and ethically challenged. These spinners dishonor the purity of spin and sour all of us on the noble art.
Whether you spin for exercise or you spin for a living; balance, integrity, character, and making perfect little circles with your feet are key to maintaining a positive spin on life.
spin: to cause to have a particular bias; influence in a certain direction; to pedal in a smooth even circle.
I often supplement my triathlon training with an indoor cycling class called “spinning”. Thirty to fifty gym goers cram themselves into a converted aerobics studio adorned in their best Lycra and Spandex to pedal furiously in place to the pre-recorded sound track chosen by the perky purveyor of pedal prowess, the spin instructor. One of my friends, Tom, makes his living as a spin instructor while another, Steve, supplements his triathlon addiction with twice weekly forays into spin instructordom. He holds down a well paying day job in the tech sector, but due to the triathlon monkey riding on his back, he is forced to spin for money at a local health club.
Tom has perfected the art of spin. His classes are the only ones I know that require students to line up days in advance to get a bike. For his special themed spin events, some students have been known to pay line sitters to queue up days in advance camping overnight in front of the spin studio living off Powerbar crumbs and left over sports drinks. Tom has been known to hold Valentine spin classes, Christmas and Halloween classes, a Rocky Horror Picture Show class, and the famous Saturday Night Live spin class. All the classes require students to conform their dress to the theme causing many a strange site at the gym. For this past Valentine’s spin class, I wore my trusty red t-shirt with the slogan “I may not be pretty, but I can lift heavy things” emblazoned across the front. As I walked to the studio to relieve my line sitter, I was passed by a 225 lb Cupid dressed only in a diaper, golden wings, a little bow and arrow, and a matting of body hair that challenged a hirsute grizzly bear. If that was not nightmare worthy enough, the same fellow attended the Rocky Horror class wearing even less in the lead role of Rocky and sporting even more body hair glistening with a healthy application of baby oil.
As I have learned over the years, there is more than one kind of spin. I’ve worked in marketing for over 15 years now. I make my living creating the right spin for a variety of products ranging from blood tests for early detection of cancer to products that allow people with COPD to breathe easier. Some of my peers have spent their careers marketing such fascinating products as KC Masterpiece BBQ Sauce, Bleach, Combat Ant & Roach Traps, and Kingsford Charcoal. Believe it or not, all these products are manufactured by the same company, Clorox. I realize marketing is not as glamorous a career as say a neurosurgeon, a firefighter, an astronaut (even a depends wearing, cross country driving, sociopathic one), or a reality TV star, but I like to think that I market products to improve the quality of life for people. I suppose my peers at Clorox can say the same thing, but I still struggle with the societal benefits of Pine Scented Bleach or KC Masterpiece BBQ Sauce with Real Hickory Smoke Flavor. Maybe Clorox should start combining some of their products; like for example, charcoal and BBQ sauce. They could launch a new line of KC Masterpiece Flavored Kingsford Charcoal. I can just see the advertisements “Forget the hassle of marinating your meat for hours or endlessly brushing on sauce while you grill…Introducing KC Masterpiece Flavored Charcoal…the latest invention from the grill masters at Kingsford”. Or, who could resist Combat Roach Traps – Now with Pine Scented Bleach for easy clean-up and odor control. Or Clorox could even go for that breakthrough innovation – Combat Ant & Roach Traps infused with all the BBQ goodness of KC Masterpiece. Your ant and roach problems are solved and the little critters go to the big roach motel in the sky with BBQ smeared smiles. This kind of out of the box thinking would certainly move my Clorox peers up the ladder of societal benefit, if not a full rung, at least half a rung.
We all spin in one way or another. Lately, if you have been paying attention to the news, spin has almost become synonymous with “lying” or “malicious misdirection”. The elegant art of spin has become corrupted by those who wish to avoid the negative fallout of poor decisions or cover-up some nefarious scandal. Spin Doctors are brought in to apply a nice shiny coat to the scandal plagued and ethically challenged. These spinners dishonor the purity of spin and sour all of us on the noble art.
Whether you spin for exercise or you spin for a living; balance, integrity, character, and making perfect little circles with your feet are key to maintaining a positive spin on life.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Redwoods Ho!
Sunday mornings are typically reserved for sleeping in, reading the paper, filling up the kids with sugar laden breakfast cereal, and/or annoying your neighbors with the cacophony of your lawn mower. Triathletes and runners are different. Sleeping in is sleeping until 6AM, our kids get their best quality sleep and do their dining in the back seat of the car on the way to a race or in the jog stroller, and our lawns are usually overgrown.
This past Sunday, my friend Liesbeth Brouwer and I hit the road at the butt crack of dawn to drive to Felton for the annual Race thru the Redwoods 10K. Yes, I know, we violated the strict race distance to distance to race ratio rule, but the Redwood run promised high schwag potential and a post race pancake breakfast. We felt if we walked away with a podium finish, a t-shirt, and at least 3 pancakes, the one hour drive was justified.
The city of Felton, home of the Roaring Camp Railroad and more redwood trees than people, hosted the annual 10K. Literally 10’s of people drive from locales as distant as Santa Cruz and Boulder Creek (5 miles away) to compete in this epic event. The course features a flat and fast paved first mile, then dumps the competitors onto dusty single track followed by a monster hill at mile 2.5. I was able to hang on by the skin of my teeth behind Liesbeth for the first 2 miles while she clocked a 6:25 and 6:30. She told me afterwards that she felt her start was a bit on the slow side, while I felt like the wheels were going to fly off at any moment.
We hit the monster hill and queued up for the slog skyward. I took the opportunity offered by the drop in pace to begin breathing normally again and bolting the wheels back on. I noticed Liesbeth was walking up ahead of me, but despite doing what I thought qualified as running, she continued to gap me. Since I had run this race once previously, I had tried to describe the course to Liesbeth, although I failed to “remember” the monster hill had at least two false summits. When we hit the second false summit, Liesbeth backed off a bit to recover and prepare for the long downhill to the finish. I charged by. When the last steep pitch of the hill appeared around the corner, Liesbeth was in downhill mode while I was still in uphill mode.
Once I cleared the hill, I tried to get my legs to turn-over, but they refused. I stumbled through the next few miles, and then finally found the rhythm at mile 5. I kept looking up ahead to see if any other 40 year old runners were within road kill range, but only saw infants and toddlers.
I finished just in front of the 3rd place female, slightly mitigating the damage to my fragile male ego. Liesbeth was hot on my heels and would have caught and passed me if I had not employed the “shuffle the feet and create lots of dust clouds” tactic in the last mile. She pulled out a 1st place AG and 4th place OA while I managed a 3rd AG.
As we waited for our podium schwag, we both won raffle prizes of $50 cash each. We picked up our medals then headed over for the post-race nosh. The Felton Volunteer Fire Department served us an excellent pancake, sausage, and omelet breakfast. While dining, I noticed there was plentiful fireman eye-candy for Liesbeth in addition to the pancakes, but I had to be satisfied with a second serving of sausage. Good times.
This past Sunday, my friend Liesbeth Brouwer and I hit the road at the butt crack of dawn to drive to Felton for the annual Race thru the Redwoods 10K. Yes, I know, we violated the strict race distance to distance to race ratio rule, but the Redwood run promised high schwag potential and a post race pancake breakfast. We felt if we walked away with a podium finish, a t-shirt, and at least 3 pancakes, the one hour drive was justified.
The city of Felton, home of the Roaring Camp Railroad and more redwood trees than people, hosted the annual 10K. Literally 10’s of people drive from locales as distant as Santa Cruz and Boulder Creek (5 miles away) to compete in this epic event. The course features a flat and fast paved first mile, then dumps the competitors onto dusty single track followed by a monster hill at mile 2.5. I was able to hang on by the skin of my teeth behind Liesbeth for the first 2 miles while she clocked a 6:25 and 6:30. She told me afterwards that she felt her start was a bit on the slow side, while I felt like the wheels were going to fly off at any moment.
We hit the monster hill and queued up for the slog skyward. I took the opportunity offered by the drop in pace to begin breathing normally again and bolting the wheels back on. I noticed Liesbeth was walking up ahead of me, but despite doing what I thought qualified as running, she continued to gap me. Since I had run this race once previously, I had tried to describe the course to Liesbeth, although I failed to “remember” the monster hill had at least two false summits. When we hit the second false summit, Liesbeth backed off a bit to recover and prepare for the long downhill to the finish. I charged by. When the last steep pitch of the hill appeared around the corner, Liesbeth was in downhill mode while I was still in uphill mode.
Once I cleared the hill, I tried to get my legs to turn-over, but they refused. I stumbled through the next few miles, and then finally found the rhythm at mile 5. I kept looking up ahead to see if any other 40 year old runners were within road kill range, but only saw infants and toddlers.
I finished just in front of the 3rd place female, slightly mitigating the damage to my fragile male ego. Liesbeth was hot on my heels and would have caught and passed me if I had not employed the “shuffle the feet and create lots of dust clouds” tactic in the last mile. She pulled out a 1st place AG and 4th place OA while I managed a 3rd AG.
As we waited for our podium schwag, we both won raffle prizes of $50 cash each. We picked up our medals then headed over for the post-race nosh. The Felton Volunteer Fire Department served us an excellent pancake, sausage, and omelet breakfast. While dining, I noticed there was plentiful fireman eye-candy for Liesbeth in addition to the pancakes, but I had to be satisfied with a second serving of sausage. Good times.
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