Binders Full Of Women

Thank goodness the Internet exists

to highlight the entertainment value of presidential debates.

Getting My Mind Right

I was reflecting on my last two cyclocross races. I did poorly--and I felt like I did poorly--in the first race. I finished in 9th place but a mechanical issue with my saddle prevented me from giving a good effort outside of standing on the pedals for most of the race. After half of the first lap when the saddle went askew I was all alone in the race. In the second race I felt I did well and finished in 8th place. However in this race I was battling back and forth with three other riders, the guys who finished in 5th, 6th and 7th place. I crashed in a turn on the second to the last lap and those three pulled away as I had to put my chain back on. 

One commonality these two races shared is that one of the racers in front of me had some sort of problem that caused them to fall behind. In each race that person climbed back up in the standings during the race, which included passing me. And this is the thought that struck me while going over both races in my mind. 

You often hear that you should choose your battles, the reason being is that you don't want to fight a battle that turns out to be an exercise in futility. There's a difference in bicycle racing--cyclocross racing in my example--in that sometimes the battle chooses you and you're left to determine if you're going to answer the challenge or not.

For example, in the second race where I was in a group in which we were going back and forth taking and retaking the lead from each other, I was answering the challenge. Every time they tried to pull away, I reeled them back in. When it looked like they were coasting I darted ahead to keep the pressure on. This continued for four and one-half laps until my front wheel slid out from under me. Getting back on my bike I was left alone again. I kept an eye on the three guys in front of me and during the last 1-1/2 laps they didn't pull away any farther. But I didn't get any closer to them either. That was the battle that chose me and I didn't respond.

When you're all by yourself in a race, it's easy to take it as hard as you want and that's exactly what I did. Those other three guys were just as tired, dirty, and worn out as I was. I only needed to step it up just a notch and that may have made a big difference in that 1-1/2 lap distance. Or it may not have. But I won't know unless I get my mind right first.


This Saturday brings another opportunity.

The Golden Boy

Paul Ryan,

Your example of living The Golden Rule shines brightly for the public to see and mimic. Your uncompromising desire to ensure the use of clean pots and pans at a charity kitchen speaks volumes about your compassion for the poor and vulnerable in our society. The fact that the kitchen where many homeless people must eat to survive may not be using pots and pans that are spic and span must weigh heavy on your mind. Had there been any homeless people present to witness your act of kindness I'm sure they would have applauded and expressed untold gratitude as you compassionately scrubbed and rinsed, leaving fewer spots than a multitude of Proctor and Gamble products.

(AP photo)

Remarkably and notably, your steadfast heart guided you and your wife so strongly that you entered the closed charity kitchen without permission and without prior notice and caught the kitchen red handed--the clean pots and pans were not up to your high standards, which you are not about to compromise. It must have been divine providence along with your uncompromising heart of gold that guided you to intervene.

In my heart I know, that if you and Governor Romney are elected, you will have that same level of compassion, care, benevolence, and humanity for the most vulnerable among us: the elderly, the disabled, the poor, the homeless, and the ill. Your uncompromising position will surely have the most profound effect on them.

Know A Good Cardio-Electrician?

Life sure can surprise you every once in a while. This morning I woke up and noticed I had an irregular heartbeat. I wasn't having any chest pains or pain of any kind, but just an occasional palpitation or flutter. So I fixed myself a cup of tea and had some toast while I perused the news on the interwebs and read the paper. When I felt my pulse, there wouldn't be one when my heart did that weird flutter.

The irregularity continued so I told Kathy about it after she got up. She, being the good nurse she is, checked my pulse and blood pressure and said it looked like I was throwing PVCs. That would be premature ventricular contractions. So off to the ER we went to get me checked out. As active and healthy as I am, I didn't think I was having a serious problem but Kathy told me that any time the heart is not working right you need to have it checked. I guess there's some sense in that.

The good thing about having a nurse for a spouse is that she hooked me up to the heart monitor before my assigned nurse could. The downside is that every once in a while she would make a frowny face while watching the monitor and I would have to ask, "What?"

Other than throwing a lot of PVCs, the heart monitor would also alarm when my pulse dropped down to 38. My normal resting heart rate is in the 40's and the low 50's. I did not know that until today. Kathy had to set the monitor alarm to a lower threshold, 35, so it would go off so often. However, the frequent PVCs made up for it and the alarm still sounded every minute or so. Nobody came running because my nurse knew Kathy and knew Kathy as watching me and knew Kathy would call if something was wrong.

All the test results said there was no infection or blockage or failure causing my symptoms. The doc said my fixtures and plumbing are fine and it's apparently an electrical problem so he cut me lose with a referral to a cardiologist. In the meantime, I can continue with my normal riding and running activities. He said that it's possible that my resting heart rate is too low and my heart is reacting to the slowness by creating extra, and useless, beats. Perhaps I should take up some slothful activities to balance out the physical exercise.

Cyclocross Race Photos

Casually dressed while casually riding over an obstacle.

 
Holding my breath and hoping this works.

 
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

 
One-armed bike lift tire crossing.

 
All we breath is dust in the wind.

 
Race to the top.

 
You run like a girl!

 
Flying through the course.

 
This is fun!

 
Must...defeat...old...man.

 
What was that noise behind me?

 
You could cut the tension with a spoon.

 
The little engines that could.

It's the altitude. Yeah, that's it.

 

Whoa, your bike got like three feet of air.

Cyclocross Race

Geoff is visiting for the weekend and he decided to give cross racing a try. I was in the Men's Masters 50+ in the third race and Geoff entered the Cat 4 Men in Race 4.

I felt a lot better today than I did at the race a couple weeks ago. I was holding my own and battling back and forth with three other guys until halfway through lap four. We got into the technical area and my front wheel slid out on a turn. I went down and the guy behind me ran over my calf. It happens. I got back on the bike but the chain had come off so I lost more time futzing with that. I spent the last 1-1/2 laps trying to catch up with them again, but it was for naught. Regardless, I felt I had a good race. It's much more fun when you have people with similar skills and strength to race against. 

Geoff had a good time in his first race. I went over dismounting and mounting the bike with his yesterday. I pretty much taught him everything I know. It took me about five minutes. The main thing to remember is that blood makes a good photo but protruding bone makes an awesome one.