Culinary Thursdays

For the last several weeks, I've given Cindy the night off and taken the girls on culinary adventures. One week we cook, the next we go out to try something new. It'll continue and I want to document the goings-on from time to time. So here's the run down. This week - La Carreta, American Fork. We had anticuchos in the chicken variety (chicken kabobs on fries), bistec a la carreta, and ceviche mixto. The anticuchos and the bistec were utterly forgettable, but the ceviche was good. Last week - knife skills: slicing. We also made poisson en papillote and smoothies with their slicing skills. No cuts. Three weeks ago - Maria Bonita, Orem. We had the choriqueso and the molcajete. Tasty grease bombs both. Nono was all over the cheese, Lissy the peppers in all of it, and Lili just took it all in. Four weeks ago - Heat and time. We talked about heat and time. The girls made their meals start to finish, with hamburgers and fries. They really were proud of themselves. Five weeks ago - Rooster, Provo. We talked about the five flavors and various textures before we got there, then the same as we ate a little of almost everything. The loep choeng was my personal favorite. Andy gave the girls a tour of the kitchen. Six weeks ago - reading a recipe, mise en place. The girls read a shrimp recipe, helped me set up the mise en place, and then I steamed shrimp and rice. A good start.

Epiphany

I figured out today the thing that separates those who do triathlons versus those who are triathletes. It's mental training. Hear me out. Triathletes, true triathletes, truly believe they need to train themselves mentally. I think that's why you see so many of them moving along at 12 mph in their bendover bars. I also think that's why so many of them train alone. Wearing stupid kit. Without music or any other type of distraction not available to them on race day- they're training themselves mentally. I on the other hand see the mental aspect of a training and a triathlon more like a fuel tank - if I burn through it in training, I'll have nothing left come race day. So I mountain bike even during training periods. I ride my road bike because it's more comfortable. I ride with people because it sucks less. And I listen to music. Because making an activity suck more than it needs to just doesn't make sense to me. That's why I can never really be a triathlete. That and my love of all things food related.

Mascots

I like mascots that have something to do with an area, be it animals or people. I hate Lone Peak's mascot - the knights. The Morgan Trojans. Really? On the other hand, some of my favorites from around here - the Jordan Beet Diggers and the Bingham Miners. Even as overplayed as the cowboy is as a mascot in small town Utah, at least it's relevant. Oregon has some good ones too - the Tillamook Cheesemakers and the Astoria Fightin' Fishermen. But Idaho takes the cake. Orofino, Idaho is the home of the Idaho State Mental Hospital. And the high school mascot? I present to you the Orofino Maniac:

One of Us is Confused

Something definitely out of the ordinary went down on the bus a few days ago. DR and I caught the same bus back to the UC from downtown. At the court house, a group of teenage girls boarded the bus. They took seats two rows behind Dan and I and immediately set to chatting. Loudly. In a different language. I didn't understand a single word. Not one. As a bit of background, I spent twenty two months in Argentina. I studied the language every single day, blowing through the standard study guides in a matter of weeks. So I purchased grammar books in the native language and made it a point to learn at least five new words a day. This will come as no surprise to those of you who know me - you know I tend to be borderline OCD and definitely take things to the extreme. So, since I couldn't understand a word of what the teenage girls behind me were shouting about, I assumed it wasn't Spanish. I can usually follow the gist of a conversation in Portuguese or Italian. Nothing. French? Too guttural. After the girls got off the bus, I asked Dan if he could tell what they were speaking. It wasn't Italian, Dan speaks Italian and he couldn't understand a word of it either. As we were discussing what it might have been, the young woman in front of Dan interrupted - "It was clearly Spanish. Not Mexican, but South American - definitely Argentina or Chile." "I'm not so sure about that," I answered, "I learned Spanish in Argentin -" "I have family from Argentina," she interrupted. "They were definitely Argentine." Stunned, I sat and puzzled over what just happened. Was she Argentine? Why didn't she say she was from Argentina or Argentine, or that she knows the language? Why that she has family from there? She made her statements so forcefully. As DR and I got off the bus, it was clear to me that one two things had happened. Either I completely forgot how to speak Spanish over the span of thirty minutes, or that girl was full of shit. Que se yo?

Remarkable of '09

Favorite Ride - Tibble Fork, Labor Day with DR Favorite Movie - Inglorious Basterds Favorite Race - Spa-Francorchamps Favorite Meal - FCC Fall Harvest Favorite New Original Recipe - Chilled Corn Chowder Favorite New Restaurant Dish - Thai Basil Pork, Rooster DNB (Provo) Favorite Game - BYU vs. Oregon State Funniest Thing - 30 Rock, Season 3, St. Valentine's Day

I Don't Know How to Feel About This

I'm a closet motor sport fan. Within that closet, I'm an unabashed fan of Scuderia Ferrari. Schumacher was Ferrari F1 for so long that I'm a Schumi fan. And now this.

Hobbies

Cycling/Triathlon, Cooking, BYU football. These are my hobbies. Each fall I look forward to being able to enjoy all three with the luau, Fall Perfection, and the football season all overlapping. Fall also used to include hunting, fishing, and camping, but kids and a full-time gig pushed those off the list. I had too many hobbies and so some had to go. Apparently, there are plenty of people in Utah that need more hobbies besides just watching football. Fans on both sides take the game entirely too seriously. As I read about this incident, I couldn't help but think that too many of those fans base their identity on the team. They also don't seem to have enough healthy outlets to blow off steam.

Return of the Tri Geek

Until a week and a half ago, I hadn't been on my road bike since some time in August. I hadn't stopped riding, I just stopped riding my road bike in favor of mountain bikes. And strangely enough, I spent most of my time on a single speed. And it was awesome. But now, IM St. George is looming just over the horizon. And I find myself planning my Saturdays around my training. And riding road bikes. And working on my swimming form. And worrying about HR's and training volume. Yep, the tri-geek is back.

The Ugliest Word

Upfront, let's make it clear that I'm not including swear words. However, I feel this word is uglier than all but one of those - uglier even than the eff word. I contend the ugliest word in the english language is heifer. My stomach turns a little even typing it. My closest friends growing up were part of a ranching family, so I spent a considerable amount of time around cattle. Even then, the word always bothered me. It seems that recently I've heard more people use the word as a derisive term for a woman. Ouch. As much of a hater as I am, I'd still have a really hard time calling someone that - even behind their back.

Moving Violations

Dug's post today inspired a rant. The other day, I fell victim to the Timpanogos Temple Speed Trap - it's capitalized because it's a well-known speed trap. Plus, it's so well executed that even if you know about you eventually fall victim. Anyway, the whole traffic ticket idea is fundamentally flawed. I'm not talking about the principle of providing rules for how fast you can drive and punishing you for driving over that speed. That's fine. I'm sure it makes everyone safer, which is a good thing for government, right? My problem is that with the local governments receiving the money for the tickets they apparently spend the vast majority of their time lying in wait in speed traps because that makes them money. They have a direct incentive to write as many tickets as possible, regardless of whether it makes anybody safer. And a disincentive to go out and actually investigate crimes. Because that costs money. I don't like to trash on something unless I have a different solution. My solution - send the money from the tickets to a different group - like to the state general fund. I'm guessing there would be a lot fewer speed traps and tickets would tend to be issued more for people who were actually driving dangerously. I'm just saying.

All Stars

Today was open-mic day. And the All-Stars showed up to put on a show. We can usually count on one or two of them, but today they all showed up. In a surprise appearance, The Advice Column showed up, along with the always dependable Sewing Circle Storyteller, the Tattling Teen, The Ambling Adolescent, and that crazy old lady who says words without saying anything. The five of them dominated the time in impressive fashion - a true classic.

Unanticipated

Last night, something happened that I never thought would happen. For the entire length of my swim, I was the fastest person in the AF Pool. As I reveled in the glory of the feat, it occurred to me that maybe it had something to do with the fact that the only other people in the pool were a 350+ lb woman who was backstroking her way to better health (which I applaud) and a fellow who was clearly just learning how to swim. I take small victories however I can get them.

The Bike Cycle

No, it's not a mistake. I did mean to type "bike cycle." The "bike cycle" as explained to me years ago by Stu is the aggregate, rolling value a person has in bikes. "The stable" is only the current manifestation of the bike cycle - the bikes you have right now. But as Rick S. (not his real name) recently pointed out, the bike cycle allows you to trade a bike you currently have for one you really want. And there's always another bike, so you keep the money in the bike cycle and keep it rolling. So, I also remind all of us of Stu's sage advice - Never take money out of the bike cycle.

The Next Level

Most guys spend a considerable amount of effort to be one of the guys - often by taking care of their own, keeping an eye out, and knowing when enough is enough. And always being consicous not become "that guy." I always thought that was the worst thing to be - "that guy." I was wrong. I've been introduced to a new level - "that one guy" - he who stands out from even "that guy." It's a long story.

Some People Send Christmas Cards

I throw the annual Fisherstyle Luau. In the past, I tried to do most of the work with just Cindy and I, but it's simply too big for that now - over 350 people showed up this year. And it's truly a family affair. Alika and Brittney postponed a hunting trip to help me prep the night before. Kuhia also postponed a hunting trip to make the haupia (which is legendary) and run a grill station. My sister decorated, including putting together pineapple centerpieces. B, Jon and Delena, Benson, and many others pitched in countless ways to help us pull it off. This year, we managed to avoid any trips to the emergency room, which allowed us a little more time for setup. It also decreased the stress level by several orders of magnitude. B and the Hansons showed up and setup started in earnest at 4:00. Ben was there shortly after and took over the first grill station in order to get the first round of chicken out while I ran the second grill station with sausages and kalbi. The pork was already holding as it had come fresh from the ovens. Kuhia showed up as we were finalizing the initial preparation and took over the second grill, leaving me to run the finishing station and to keep an eye on the line. The official send off was at 5:30, mainly because there weren't very many people there at 5:00. And then it was on. For the next two hours the three of us furiously turned out food as fast as we could. At any given time at least three of the four main proteins were available, with one of the four occasionally running low or even temporarily out while we scrambled to cook more. We kept up the pressure and managed to survive the rush, which started to taper between 7 and 8. Since I'd been head down and hammering, I had a tough time telling how it was going, but it seemed like people had a good time. Despite running out of plates (we had well over 400 plates to start) and rice, I think the luau was a success. But I saw for the first time this year signs that the luau was becoming a victim of its own success. Or at least that some people were willing to abuse my good will. For the last six years, the luau has been a time for me to bring together my various groups of family, neighbors, classmates, cycling friends, and coworkers to share a meal and for the various groups to catch up amongst themselves. I've always told people to bring others within those circles that I may have overlooked or for whatever reason didn't know about the party. Until now, all of the people who showed up had at least one of two things in common: 1) they knew me, Cindy, and/or one of my siblings well enough to pick us out of a crowd before the event and/or 2) they were appreciative of the effort. For the first time, some invitees took the liberty of bringing friends who were neither. It was disappointing to have someone I didn't know, nor could I immediately figure out who they were with, give my wife a strange look that almost questioned what she was doing there. Later being able who that person was with didn't change anything. It was also frustrating to be treated like a caterer on the line (by someone I didn't know) by something more akin to a demand for more of a particular item rather than a request. This didn't sit well with me at all. Some of these same people wandered off with all of the centerpieces, leaving me and those who helped out without the much anticipated pineapples. My immediate family, given that it's as much their luau as it is mine, have always had and will always have carte blanche to bring whoever they want. From now on, I'm going to ask everybody else to bring only people who 1) know me or my family and 2) can avoid boorish behavior. I don't think that's too much to ask.

Labor Day Weekend

Last night Cindy and I did our version of movie/date night - we watched "Adventureland" while we ran together on the treadmills. We cranked out nine miles and I felt comfortable the entire time. We're definitely sick, because we both loved it. Fall Perfection is upon us again. DR and I headed out today early and did the Road-Ridge-Tibble loop. A light drizzle kept us cool on the way up. Not only did the rain keep us cool, it kept people out of the canyons and packed down the trails to the perfect consistency. I've taken to calling those conditions point and shoot, since my tires stay where I put them I'm able to ride much more confidently and a lot faster. I was grinning the whole way down, even with the ruts the throttle monkeys put in the trail earlier in the year. I was encouraged by the prospects for the fall riding season - I have enough fitness to enjoy the long rides, which will help me extend my fitness long enough to start training for IM St. George.

Luau Countdown

I recently talked with a buddy who wondered if the luau was still on, since there had been a lack of luau related posts this close to the date. It's definitely still on. The park is reserved. The beef is currently aging. Soda has been stockpiled. Non-perishable items are at the ready. A trip to the Asian store and the final purchase of the more perishable chicken, pork, and sausage as well a few vegetables is all that remains to be done before cooking begins in earnest. September 12, after 5.
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Huntin'

My Dad is 78 years old. He went out to the National Forest and killed a deer. With a bow and arrow. I'm just saying, my old man is a badass.

Utah Half '09

Several years ago the Ironman company tried to do a couple of races in Utah Lake in June. The first year a fellow had a cardiac episode in the choppy conditions and died. The next year they canceled the swim because of the chop, and the next year they moved the race to Coeur D'Alene, Idaho. Two years ago a local group brought the half distance back to Utah with the Utah Half in August, which I skipped. Last year DR talked me into racing the Utah Half with him. There was little wind, but it was scorching hot. I won entry to this year's edition in a raffle, so I was back again this year. The other half distance races I've done this year (Oceanside, CA and Boise, ID) both ended up being windy and cold, so I was actually looking forward to warm weather and calm winds. But, apparently the long-course-triathlon gods hate me. As the start time neared, the wind and clouds picked up to end what had been a pretty calm morning - and ruining any hope of a calm swim. I bobbed in the water as the original start time came and went while the race directors tried to figure out what to do. Then my guts sent me the emergency launch sequence notification. I barely noticed the five minute warning over the din of the alarm bells from my stomach. There was no way I was going to make it through the entire swim, nor any way I could make it to the port-a-pottys all the way over in transition and back in five minutes, even if I wasn't wearing a wetsuit. So, I became a cliche. You know, one of those you-know-you're-a-triathlete-when cliches. Fortunately I have a two-piece wetsuit. So, I swam to the very end of the pier (well away from the other swimmers), pulled down my wetsuit pants, and released what had already become at best a tenuous grip. Unfortunately, I race in a one-piece trisuit. So, strenuous and liberal irrigation was necessary, which I accomplished via the opening in my trisuit. For once, the merkiness of the water worked to my advantage, hiding me and my deeds. I did this all in less than the five minutes I had left before race start. And before they announced again that they were going to wait another fifteen minutes, despite the calm conditions. It bothered me. I mean, apart from the obvious inconvenience, the way I saw it the waves weren't that big since we were swimming in the harbor. Besides, anybody stepping up to the long distance shouldn't be whining about the chop. In my usual, subtle and understated way, I suggested that to one of the race directors that they make the swim optional: "Hey, why don't you make the swim optional? That way, those guys who don't want to swim can go put their pullups on while those of who brought our big boy pants can swim. I'm just saying." Yep, I was making friends and influencing people Saturday morning. The race directors decided on a compromise - instead of cancelling the swim altogether or doing the entire two loop course, we'd swim a single loop. The start line was about 100m from the exit, so my best guess is that the course we did was about 1000m. (1900m=2L+100, Ts=L+100). The swim went better than expected. I was able to stick with the group swimming into the wind until we made the turn. The tailwind pushed me back in. I was to the exit at the ramp in about 18:30. And out of the water at about 21:00 - I couldn't get out of the ramp. My one complaint with the race was the lack of carpeting on the snot slick ramp. I slipped and fell back in no fewer than four times and ended up crawling out of the water. I burned too many matches on the bike, despite the 3:00 flat split. Most of the course wound through the back roads of South County near the lake. I hate that route from having ridden it countless times in punishing crosswinds that seemed to hit me at a yaw angle that negated any tailwind component, regardless of which way I was riding. Saturday was especially bad since I was riding a disc wheel, the winds were at 25+, and I was actually worried about my time. It may also have had something to do with the fact that the rinse cycle portion of the emergency launch process had washed off all of my anti-chafe. 56 miles on a bendover bike with no chamois and no anti-chafe - it sucked a lot. At least the hail on the way back in distracted me from my broken junk. Cold and chafed, I was not happy coming in to T2. Shortly into the run, I met up with DR, who had flatted twice on the bike and called it a day. Despite his official DNF, he decided to run with me anyway. The first lap went well, better than expected even. I slowed a little on the second (and final) lap, but was still on pace for a comfortable PR both on the run and overall. I was also on pace to go sub-six for the first time. And then I paid the price for the bike at mile 11 as I imploded. I was still able to 'run', but was doing so at a pace that was 2:00-3:00/mile slower than my previous pace. I ground it out, with DR's encouragement, coming in at 5:53. It was a good day - a PR day, in fact - despite falling apart on the run. I estimated that if the swim course hadn't been shortened, I'd come in around 6:10. I figured that 18:30 put my 100m times at 1:51, which would put the extra 900m at around 17:00. I'm comfortable with this since I'm always faster after the first 1000m.

Debunking

I've often lamented by descent into becoming a triathlete, not someone who does triathlons. And I still am. Part of that is because of the stupidity exhibited by tri geeks. They (and I'm not including myself in this discussion of the group) swallow whatever anyone tells them, as long as they promise it'll make them faster. There are several, many of which I'm sure to touch on later. The first one is the best: You should ALWAYS ride in the aero position. This is my absolute favorite - common sense be damned, the tri-geeks persist in this. It seems like common sense that there are three things determine how wind acts on you as you ride: 1) How big of a target you present, 2) How hard the wind is apparently blowing, and 3) the direction the wind is blowing. Apparently, since tri-geeks can only control one of these three things, they believe that presenting as small a target as possible is the solution that makes you faster all the time. Not so much. The aero position only provides an advantage if the apparent head wind is greater than 17-18 mph. Apparent wind is the remaining vector after you factor in your direction of travel and the direction the wind is blowing. With that in mind, there are three common situations where staying in the aero position (which is as uncomfortable or even more so than it looks) is stupid or maybe even dangerous. First is climbing. On a calm day, riding uphill in your aerobars at 12-13 provides no aerodynamic advantage. Yet I see tri-geek after tri-geek grinding away up AF Canyon in their aerobars, convinced in the truth that its faster. You know, because somebody told them it was. Second is descending. A friend of mine, let's call him Jared, called me one day as he left the emergency room to tell me there was a hazardous section on the road up AF Canyon. Apparently hazardous for cyclists anyway. When Jared explained to me where the spot the spot was, I knew it immediately. It's really nothing more than a slight dip. Unless you're in your aerobars. Descending a curvy road. With no access to your brakes. And all of your weight is over your front wheel. Which was exactly what the genius Jared had dropped off at the hospital was doing before Jared found him. Based on the evidence, Jared said it looked like genius had hit the dip and then hit the road, leaving large patches of his face and several teeth as he skidded along before slamming to a stop into the hillside adjacent the road. I prefer to have my weight and hands positioned so I can control my bike when I'm descending, even if it is 1-2 mph slower - I'm picky that way. Third is in a stiff tail wind. At the Vikingman last year, we battled 30+ mph headwinds on the way out. I was lucky to do 12 mph on the flats. With an apparent headwind of 40+ it made sense to 'get aero.' But at the turn, that same headwind turned into a tail wind. I passed scores of people at 30+. You see, they were all tucked away while I made myself as big as possible by sitting straight up to catch the wind. Each person I passed shot me the same confused look, wondering how I could possibly be going faster than him while not being aero. Apparently the idea that wind can push you where you want to go, you know, the sail concept, was completely lost on them. Or at least ignored. Ignorance of the realities of something as basic as wind, that's one of the reasons I hate grouping myself with triathletes.