And . . . we're back. Maybe

I finally got around to sorting out the conflicts in my google accounts and hopefully will have the blogger up and running again from time to time.  We'll see.

Expectations

Jem is fond of saying, "Manage expectations, not results."  Well, I'm trying to manage my expectations ahead of this weekend.  Before the race has even started, IM St. George has been considered one of the toughest courses on the Ironman schedule.  The combination of the hilly bike course and even hillier run course have it looking to be a real challenge.  The weather is now looking to play its part. 

As if the 112 miles of hills weren't bad enough, the forecast is calling for wind.  And rain.  The rain doesn't bother me as much as the direction of the wind, which is forecast to be a northerly wind.  Since the course is a loop, if the wind stays constant we'll inevitably face a headwind for part of the time and a tail wind for part of the time.  A southerly wind would push us up the canyon and then slow our descent back down the other side.  I wouldn't mind that.  Since I have gravity on my side on the descent, it doesn't affect me too much.  A northerly wind on the other hand would compound my gravitational challenge on the climb since I'd be fighting both gravity and the wind.  A tail wind on the descent would be little consolation since I'm not very confident riding at speeds of over 40 mph in the middle of a bunch of tri-geeks in their bend-over bars.  

The only bit of comfort is that I've seen that wind.  Dave and I finished the ride and ran afterward.  My legs came back and I'm confident I could finish.  But, the wind is realistically going to add nearly two hours to my overall time.  When I was already hoping for something in the mid-fourteen hour range, the wind puts me uncomfortably close to the DNF line.  One flat and I could be pushing the cutoff.  So, I'm trying to manage my expectations by bracing myself for 16+ hours of pretty much flat out, constant suffering.  I've said it before, but only half-heartedly:  I'm just hoping to finish at this point.

Indicator

Saturday's trip to St. George reminded me a lot of my trip last year to RAWROD.  Except my riding companion didn't leave me for dead.  And it didn't hail on me.  Nor did I run out of water.  Okay, the only things that reminded me of RAWROD '09 were the unrelenting wind during the ride and my swollen baboon butt after the ride.  You're welcome for that image, by the way. 

It was also a day of huge mental-attitude swings.  During the climb up the canyon of the first loop, not only did I consider pulling the plug on the the ride after the first loop, I seriously considered pulling the plug on the entire race.  I didn't know whether the wind would still be a head wind once we reached Veyo.  If the wind stayed a hind wind after Veyo, there would be no chance of doing the bike leg in anything close to the time I'd need to even make the cutoff. 

Fortunately, the wind pushed us from Veyo back to Snow Canyon.  I had no intention of doing the second loop, but Dave wouldn't be denied.  So, we ground it out.  And it was more of the same - a pretty stiff headwind up to Veyo and then a decent tailwind back to Snow Canyon.  We ended up getting in just over 116 miles on the day. 

We got back to Jon's house just before dark, changed into our running kit, and ground out one length of the run.  In the dark.  The first uphill mile on Diagonal was a death march.  I was discouraged again.

After we climbed up to the top of the bluff, I found my legs on the middle section and settled in to a decent rhythm for the rest of the run.  By the end of the day, I was confident I would be able to finish in May.  It was an epic day that I was glad to get over.

The Home Stretch

I can't wait for May 2.  That will be the day that Ironman St. George is behind me.  It's a race that I want to have done, not that I'm looking forward to doing.  The only upside to having trained for a really hard Ironman over the winter is that I'll be starting the mountain biking season with a lot of fitness.  The challenge will be staying away from the barbeque without the motivation of a really hard race hanging over me and keeping me in line.  I'm hoping the mix of a fresh set of King SS Hubs, some decent weather, some good trail conditions and reliable riding buddies will be just the thing to keep me from being a couch-bound pork-a-holic.  Here's to hoping.

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.