Archives for category: Uncategorized

Ready for the sun

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…and the rain

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From the bottom

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to the top

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in body and mind

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It’s alll

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ready to go!

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The 6am alarm was painful. I felt off – the cold has been contained to sniffles, but I went for the medication. I remembered the heart monitor. I committed to taking it easy and chasing the joy of the day.

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For the first hour, however, I was chasing warmth. Yes, I brought a windbreaker. No, I was not going to cover up my fabulous new kit. No stops ’til Saugatuck!

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After the water break, I was on a long road with wild turkeys and pick-your-own blueberry stands.

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Lunch did not disappoint, although I fell over in the sand on the path in (my kit emerged unscathed)!

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Nor did the pedicure of a fellow rider:

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And then we were on the Kal-Haven trail (which I think should be named the Grandamazoo trail):

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So, the sand/gravel made me cautious. And then there were the other hazards:

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Our last stop of the day was at a local winery:

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Ten tedious miles later:

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But I didn’t have to switch rooms with George Emerson to get this view:

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I can feel the splinter in my finger, but I can’t be bothered to get up, turn on the lights, and extract it. When the alarm goes off…

Awake. Check phone. 3:18. Didn’t I set the alarm for 3? No, 3:30. Up quietly. The Domestic Partner gets to sleep until 4 (two different vineyards are coming in today).

The ginormous splinter slides out easily. Rubbing alcohol doesn’t sting. This worries me. My finger still hurts.

Showered, dressed, kissed and into the Uber. LA looks different from the backseat at 4am. You notice the construction fences. You fly by the cleanup crews and the abandoned flares on the 405, the remnants of someone else’s accident.

Baggage checked.
Dog noted.

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Carbs loaded.
Flight boarded.

Zzzzzz.

Denver!
My connection is so far in the future that I don’t even have a gate assignment.

Five hour layover.
First Jamba Juice whatever it is they’re calling the Coldbuster now.
Southwest has great comfy chairs with built in plugs.

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Grapes are harvested in Santa Maria (Chardonnay) and Sta. Rita Hills (Pinot Noir).

I lose my QOM on the Friday ride.

I overhear a couple talking about how they got their dog a note so it would be a “therapy dog” and they can get out of the charge. I really hate it when people game the system like that – it makes things more difficult for people who have real problems.

Grand Rapids!

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Baggage claimed.
Cab snagged.
Heavens opened.
Bike reunited.

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RIP Giovanni Pinarello

Bike dropped off.
Pre-ride carboloading in full force:

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I had the Werewolf Lazer Circus and The Curmudgeon. I also had a couple beers by those names tonight.

Grand Rapids has Uber!

And nothing warms my heart like a boutique hotel in a small town. LOVING CityFlatsHotel

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And the agenda for tomorrow:

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My home team continues to undermine me. Larry shatters light bulbs into tiny pieces…

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…necessitating Hello Kitty band-aids
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And the Domestic Partner has done everything in his power to give me his cold, so I packed a little extra something in the emergency snacks/hydration department:
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The recharging stations are always overloaded, so I’m bringing my own:

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New kit from Machines For Freedom – so new you can’t even buy it on the website yet, but soon… And look for photos of it in action Day 2 of Climate Ride Midwest!

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…and speaking of recharging stations, Lot 2 on 2d Street in Santa Monica has dozens of them for my new mode of eco-friendly transport:

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Done

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Done

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To do:

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Just the facts, ma’am:

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I’ll be elaborating on some of these in later posts, but if you’re wondering about some of those ride names, ask below:

“Are we going for a ride today?” ventured the domestic partner.

“Sure!”

Back from my Colorado adventure, I realized I only have three weeks to train for the Fargo Tour de Cure. My first century since the Tour de Tugaloo back in November. Yes, I did more miles on the Gulf Coast Interstate Relay , but not all at once. And the hardship with headwinds last weekend led me to think I want to be ready for the prairie.

So, off to Ballona Creek to dust the cobwebs off the partner’s chainring and to fight some headwinds. I packed our bikes and gear into the car. I hoped that any remnants of the massive fish die-off in Marina Del Rey would be cleaned up.

Alas, when we arrived at the park, we discovered that I had failed to pack my beloved’s shoes. He gamely agreed to give riding the bike with his sneakers precariously perched on the Speedplay pedals, and off we went!

At first, I drafted behind him, in the spirit of riding together. Then it felt mean to make him do all the work when I was the one with a light bike who was clipped in, so I took a turn on the front, careful to maintain the pace he’d set. Eventually, he came unhitched, and urged me to go ahead and wait for him at the bridge. I set the goal of maintaining a steady pace, even though I knew the headwinds would get stronger as I approached the Pacific Ocean.

At the end of the path, I spun around and waited for my sweetie to arrive:

We headed back, and as I could hit 20mph with the wind behind me, I decided to try to maintain it. At first, it was easy-breezy. As I flew inland, less so, but I got through graffiti ghetto, and then turned around to pick up my man and ride in with him.

A short ride, but a good one, because I am now The Queen of Ballona Creek!

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With fewer than 3 miles to go in Colorado, I turned to urban bike share:

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Two loops around the very scenic Cheeseman Park:

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…and Colorado is in the books as state #35!

I guess we could say this was today’s cause:

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