Distractions Needed

So, the job hunt begins. And while I battle it out with who knows how many other recent graduates and stress over that first dreaded student loan bill, I'm trying to find things to fill out my days. Inexpensive things to fill out my days. I think "inexpensive" is a pertinent qualifier, because while it would be nice to rebuild my bike or attempt a radio satellite...I have to remember that my dwindling savings limits my options. (Side note: the rebuilding of the Purple Trail Eater is on hiatus until such time as gainful employment has been successful). The same financial worries have also forced me to push back plans of giving mountain bike camping a valid effort...who knew panniers could be so damn expensive. And while I'm still trying to think up some clever and cheap ways to rig my bike down with the bare bones gear for outdoor survival, I think I could reasonably keep myself happy and occupied with just on-foot exploration and day trips to the closest mountain bike trails/parks.

The important goal here is not let myself get dragged down by the seemingly fruitless job search and the grey, dreariness of winter. Both which can lead to muscle loss, brain apathy, and mid-section increases. I'm doing pretty darn good at keeping the motorcycle on the road during the cold weather season, but I have my riding partners to partly praise for that. But it's the activities that require more independence and long, cold nights alone in a tent out in the middle of nowhere that are lacking at the moment. My gear for such endeavors is mostly set; I'm lacking a couple of items which would make it easier but not neccesary to actually hitting the trail. And while company would be great, the majority of my friends have jobs and can't just escape for an overnight backpacking trip. Which really leaves only two option. Either I commit to a plan and just do it...or sit at home and daydream about it.

On a similar note I've been a mostly inactive member of Nashville's hiking meetup group for over a year now. In that time I've managed to make it to only one planned event. Now might be a good time to get out of lurk mode on the website and actually get out there and meet new people. As an added bonus, I may actually meet a similiarly unemployed recent graduate looking to distract him/herself from the realities of life with hiking/backpacking/camping activities. My impecunious misery would love company. :)

The Strip Down

I've decided to rebuild The Purple Trail Eater -- that heavy monstrosity of a bike that I rode for the Dirt, Guts, and Donuts race. I mean, I gotta give the bike props. For a P.O.S. that was likely manufactured by child labor in a developing nation, assembled by a minimum wage earning high school student, ridden for a few years, bought at a yard sale to be refurbished by a guy that earns his living doing such things as refurbing Walmart bikes, and bought by yours truly who got a crazy notion one day that she should start cycling the twelve odd miles to campus...it held up like a champ in the 8ish miles of DG&D. Of course, I suspect this is because the bike is composed of metals once used in Cold War era Soviet tanks. Anyway, another crazy notion hit me tonight. I want to put new life into this bike. The initial plan: strip the bike down to the frame and rebuild it into a single or fixed gear (to be determined) mountain bike. This is also a solo project with minimal expert (read: professional) or technical (read: manly) help.

Step one, the strip down, was completed tonight. I learned a lot of things tonight...mostly about using tools whose names do not exist in my vocabulary (but have made up my own names...kudos to anyone who can give the real name to the "shiny metal locking clamp thingy" and "the clicky wrench"). I did have to dig into my limited reserve of technical assistance for brute strength tasks like cutting the brake and shifter cables and removing the crank turned out to be a two person job. But 99% of the strip down was completed sans help.

And here is all that remains of the Purple Trail Eater.

I haven't decided whether to keep the purple or do a repaint, I'm kinda digging the idea of some WWII mat Jeep green, complete with white star. But ignoring the aesthetics for the moment I think the first task is a new crank. It was the last thing to come off, so seems right that it should be the first to go back on. Lucky for me Nashville has a bike shop that sells slighty used and lightly abused parts, and I imagine that will be my first shop stop. Steve pointed out a few obstacles which may kill this project. He thinks there is a possibility that the frame may have proprietary (that's the word he used, but I prefer non-standard) sizes which may make shopping for cranks and downtubes an impossibility. But we'll just have to wait and see.

Stage 1, The Strip Down: Complete

Stage 2, The Crank: Standby

The Church's Chicken Burn-Off Ride

I had lofty and some-what healthy plans for lunch today. A homemade...well, okay...workmade toasted turkey and Swiss sub complete with pine nut hummus. Yums. But as I was prepping my sandwich materials I noticed that my sub bread had sprouted little fuzzy green dots.../sigh. So, in a moment of weakness I threw my debit card into the hands of today's lunch lackey and she came back with a Church's chicken tender meal, mashed potatoes with gravy, and a biscuit (which I'm pretty sure was deep friend in butter and then doused with honey), which came to a whopping 660 calories. Okay, I'll admit, that's not really that bad...but it was deep fried and had something like 100,000 mg of sodium (I'm rounding up). So, with the weather being fairly good today, I left work an hour early and went for a quick 10 mile jaunt on my road bike, burning approximately 492 of those 660 calories off.

Stupid green fuzzy dots. Ruins everything it does.

Saint Stephen the Confessor

With nearly a week gone by with my new communications device, I'm proud to announce that it is no longer winning the struggle between human and machine. Up until Wednesday I'd seriously thought that I was witnessing the dawn of a robot uprising. I would open up an app only to not be able to get the app to disappear (cue movie clip: Adam Sandler yelling at the golf ball, "Why don't you go to your home?!?!?! Don't you like your home?!?!?!?!). No, joke, all day Tuesday I could not get the alarm icon to disappear off the main screen. I'd press my finger onto the icon, flick it off to the left...the icon would go zooting off in the correct direction...but alas, it wouldn't disappear into the menu. /sigh But, by Wednesday, I'd figured out all the tricks to making and moving my app icons.

So, with much elation, I'm proud to announce that I like my new cell phone and I am keeping it. And this is where the title of this post becomes relevant. I told Steve this about two hours ago, and without putting any effort into hiding his disappointment, his body sags and says, "Awwww...but I was hoping you'd hate it so much that you'd give it to me!"

....crickets....

This becomes all the more entertaining considering HE TRICKED ME INTO GETTING THE PHONE! (see previous post) This could have easily been solved with him buying the new phone I was way overdue for, stuck his SIM card in it instead, and just sunk extra cash into expanding the memory on my SLVR. But ya know, this is kinda like that episode of the Simpsons where Homer buys Marge a bowling ball for her birthday with the expectation that she won't want it and will just give it to him instead...but much to his dismay she takes up bowling. Yeah, well,...Steve, guess what...I just took up Samsung Sillouetting....or...something.

The Mark

So I bought a bluetooth enabled motorcyle helmet.... wait, but first let me say something else:

Ok, a small confession...I'm not a tech nerd (or whatever it is those people are calling themselves these days). As a general rule, I'm best described as a ludite. I'm usually the last to jump onto the "latest and greatest" technological bandwagon, and once I do accept some form of technology I tend to hold onto it until its considered archaic (which by today's standard is about 4 months, but in my case tends to be years). My cell phone history is a great example. I started out with a Nokia flip phone, you know that basic piece of crap they give every new cell phone subscriber for free...in fact, its so shitty they may actually pay you to take it off their hands. I upgraded to a Motorola SLVR four or five years ago...yeah, seriously...who the hell keeps a cell phone for four years these days? Even better, how many cell phones actually last four years? Anyway, I love the SLVR so I've been very hesitant to part with it, as is the way of ludites.

Right, so I bought a bluetooth enabled helmet. It's a pretty nifty concept...well to someone out of the technological loop it seems pretty nifty...phone and music through a bluetooth device. Nice! But after searching the net for a reasonably priced bluetooth MP3 player and coming up with nothing, Steve says, "it would be cheaper to just buy a new cell phone." Now Steve knows I don't want a new cell phone. He's tried to seperate me from my SLVR for years, and to no avail. So it's with this knowledge that I'm going to go ahead and say that he tricked me into buying a new cell tonight. He'd bought the same bluetooth helmet as I, but his was having limited range so I'd pretty much resigned myself to just having a bluetooth helmet sans working bluetooth capabilities without ever really plugging the damn thing in and testing it out. But I did, and to my surprise, it connects and has a range of 10+ feet. Sweet!

So Steve chimes in with, "well now all we need to do is get you a bluetooth device that will hold lots of songs, we could go to Best Buy." So with 30 minutes til closing time we speed to Best Buy, pick out a new cell phone (a Samsung Sillouette btw), fiddle about with the phone over dinner and then go to Walmart to purchase a memory card to hold all these songs. And it was on the drive back to the house when my brain put one and one together. I'd just been tricked into buying a new cell phone. Because, my SLVR has an iTunes app and Bluetooth and a memory card. All it needed was a larger memory card so that the phone would hold a practical number of songs.

I mean sure, the new phone is nifty and new and has lots of cool features (like GPS with vocal turn-by-turn directions or I could watch streaming video),...but there was and still is nothing wrong with my SLVR. Its a great phone and it (and I) have smuggly sat back as friends with lesser communications devices have had to upgrade because their latest and greatest phone has turned out to be a total piece of shit. And here I am, with my own latest and greatest phone, loading songs and transferring contacts...and keep asking myself,...how the hell did I get talked into this again?

Dammit.
Geeks: 1.
Jen: 0.

Halloween Festivities

Steve and I headed to Knoxville this weekend to celebrate Halloween with Gabe and Em. Friday night was meant to be a pumpkin carving event. I had a brilliant idea for a jack-o-lantern: buy a large white pumpkin and carve it into the shape of a ghost from the classic Atari game, Pac-Man. But the fates were against me. There was a guy selling white pumpkins for $3 at a stand, but when I went to buy one no one was in. Okay...sure I could have liberated a pumpkin and dumped the cash in its place. But well...too honest I guess. But besides *not* having a pumpkin for the event, we got into Knoxville so late that we'd missed the carving party. So, while waiting for Gabe and Em to get home we watched Sean of the Dead and ate Doritoes and donuts.

Saturday we all dressed up and attended a couple of parties. Emilie went at a hot demon, Gabe went as a prison convict (but only after his attempt at making a good Sideshow Bob costume failed), Steve went as a couch potato...again, and I went as a Greaser, more specifically I was aiming for Sodapop from The Outsiders (this was an impromptu costume after inadvertently leaving my original costume at home). The first party...while in concept was cool, actually sucked because of the rain. It was an outdoor bonfire party hosted by Gabe and Em's hiking meetup group. There was tasty food and a huge ass fire...but after standing in the rain for two hours it got a little tiresome. So we headed to some people's house I didn't know, but apparently have met before. We hung out with the "strangers" and some newly acquired friends I made on my last Knoxville/D.C. trip...and the night pretty much ended as expected: Steve vomiting his guts out.

Sunday we met up with Allison and Ron (the newly acquired friends) for a hangover cure breakfast at Mimi's Cafe. Afterwards we went to a world market and bought British chocolate and teas, went to a few other shops and then spent the rest of the day lounging about, watching movies, playing games, etc until bedtime. It was a great weekend, but very tiring. :)

Note- pics of the costumes are the exclusive property of Steve's cell phone. If he should ever chose to share them I'd post a couple here.

About Time

So Clarksville's very first Greenway opened in late September. Yeah, seriously, way to join the greenway revolution...decades late. But hey, better late than never. The CGW (not to be confused with Clarksville Gas & Water) is only in phase 1 --which equates to some 2.5- 3.0 miles of asphalt. Right now it's barely long enough to work up a good sweat, but it already has far more potential than Ashland City's out-and-back 6 mile greenway. I'm often disappointed in greenways that lead to...nowhere. To me, these rails-to-trails projects should serve the dual function of both green space and practical green mobility. What's the use in a fancy schmancy paved path if you still have to risk your life by getting on Clarksville's mean streets to get to work/campus/pub/etc. I want a REAL greenway, the cyclist's version of a highway or parkway. I probably shouldn't judge Clarksville Greenway Phase I, but I have my suspicions that once the project is complete I will be resigned to accept it as a recreational space, and nothing more.

Rotary Ride

I expected Steve to have blogged about our first ride on our new bikes (oh yeah, Steve just had to buy a new bike too...he got the Cannondale F7) by now. But I guess I'm going to have to do that (even though he has the pics).

Anyway, we picked up Steve's bike from the local bike shop on Saturday afternoon and headed to Rotary Park to try out our new toys. It was a fun ride, but a lot of technical stuff on the trails that I didn't have to tackle at the DGD race. Rotary Park doesn't have moguls (or at least any that I found) but it did have lots of sharp switchbacks, creek crossings, and obstacles (both natural (boulders) and man-made (like, oooh, this part of the trail is really boring, lets fell a few trees here)).

Steve seemed really stoked about our latest adventure in cycling (and that excitement stayed even after taking a fall). Steve is not so much a nature-loving guy, seriously, he hates trees and flying insects and pretty much anything with more than two legs...but he's enthusiastic about our new purchases. So hopefully, despite nature, we can get out on the trail often this autumn.

Anyway, I think Rotary Park will be a good testing ground for us over the next few months. I think the trails are, for the most part, appropriate to our beginner status, but with enough difficulty that we can really grow into them. I'm looking forward to some cold-weather riding on the trails...game on!

A Champion's Bike

So you may have heard (probably multiple times if you hang around Steve) that I won a mountain bike race a few weeks ago. Okay, okay...competition was hardly of the stiff variety, but still, I finished first in the women's division. But that's not even the amazing part...I finished on a P.O.S. Walmart-special-yard-sale-find that cost all of $45 (I probably paid too much). If you've ever seen this Purple Trail Eater (as it has since been dubbed) you'd understand the enormity of my win. Anyway, ever since Steve has been insisting that a champion mountain biker needs a champion mountain bike. He's been egged on by workmate and semi-pro mtn biker, Scott McConnell (who rides for the Moots mtn bike team). It's actually been a pretty interesting dynamic that's develop between us...Steve wants to see me on a proper mtn bike but with as little financial layout as possible...Scott wants to see me on a mtn bike but wants to see Steve fork out as much money as I want him to spend on it...and me? well I just want a mtn bike that doesn't chap my ass. :)

So, after much window shopping and many test rides, I purchased my first, real, honest-to-goodness mountain bike, a Cannondale F5. It's sweeeeet...

Where's My Meds?

And just as the ulcer heals, another semester begins.

Life: Unpredicted

And part two: I got offered a job. In Texas. There was a lot of appeal to this. The money was okay for a first "real" job. Texas is cool and I know people that live there (and would have been working with one of them). And, as anyone who knows me will remember, I'm always trying to run away.

Buuuut...there were a lot of reasons to turn the job down, which I did. Like, it was an unguaranteed one year term position. So, I would move down to Texas and could be told within a matter of months that I wasn't needed anymore. Also, I would have to start in two weeks, and I'm not sure I could have wrapped up everything in Tennessee and gotten settled in Texas in two weeks. But the number one reason for rejecting the position was money. Not the money they were offering, but the money it would cost me to move down there. I would have lost my GA position, so I'd have to pay my last semester of tuition out of pocket. I would also have to pay another month's rent here or risk losing my deposit, plus pay back the half off the first month's rent deal I was given as punishment for abandoning the lease early. Then I would have the cost of a new apartment plus deposit plus cost of getting it up and running. Add on the cost of installing a hitch on the Jeep and renting a trailor to move the motorcycle, and the gas associated with such an endeavor. I seriously lost sleep over this because up until I started doing the math I was leaning more toward accepting the position than rejecting it.

But maybe it's for the best. It would have been a great thing to stick on my resume, this is true. But my last semester at the Peay will be that little bit easier and I won't have to live off of toast and water for a month.

Life: Predicted

This is a two part post discussing my two major events this week. The first is a purchase of my very first motorcycle, a Triumph Bonneville T100. I have yet to take any pictures of it yet, so just as a frame of reference I've included a photograph of someone else's Bonneville T100.

I've been looking at motorcycles for a couple of months, and toyed with the longest time about buying a Honda 919. And while early purchase had presented itself several times, there was just enough hesitancy to keep that from happening. And I think its paid off. My path to the Bonneville was a little circumspect. It started off with interest in a Triumph Scrambler...which led to interest in the Triumph Thruxton...which led to the Bonneville...which led to the Bonneville T100.

I genuinely heart my T100. Besides being just a damn pretty bike, it is super comfy. Okay, its super comfy for me, which is really all that matters. The most I've spent on the bike is an hour and a half, and that has left my back and behind feeling just fine. And since my comfort was the number one factor when choosing a motorcycle, I'd say I've made the right choice. But comfort wasn't my only reason for going for this particular bike. After all, the 919 was comfortable too. I really love the retro feel to the T100. And, as if this shouldn't be obvious from someone that also rides around in a fairly new Wrangler...I love new toys that are made to look like old toys. All the nostalgia my little heart can handle, but without the worry of maintenance.

But it hasn't been all rainbows with the new motorcycle. There's actually been some disappointment, verging on frustration. Not with my bike, but with myself. As per usual Jen form, I'm impatient with my progress. I'm a noob to riding, and there are certain things I'm having trouble mastering. Like sharp right hand turns are kicking my ass at the moment. I haven't dropped the bike, haven't even come close actually...but without fail, every single time I take a sharp right turn from a stop I end up on the wrong side of the street. Grrrr. And I'm having a hard time with starting on an incline. I'm getting bored with riding around the 'hood, dodging UPS guys and kids on bicycles, but I told myself that I cannot get out on the Big Girl Streets until I conquer these two issues. But I'm working on it.

Another frustration, since I've mentioned it a little already, is my neighborhood. It is essentially a giant circle with two points of exit. One is on an incline and the other requires a sharp right turn (I could go left, but that would require a 3/4 mile jaunt on Ft. Campbell Blvd...aka The Road of Death). So, really, I *have* to get these two things down just to leave the neighborhood. Grump, grump, grump.

Anyway, I love my bike, but I hate having to be patient with the learning curve.

Motorcycling 101

So I took a motorcycling course this weekend. And, yes, I passed. And, no, I didn't drop the bike, crash into any large or even small objects, nor did I run over the instructors. Overall, it went really well. I imagine I made the same mistakes that most beginners make. We rode Honda Nighthawk 250s...and other than the fact that I felt the bike was a smidge too low for me, it was actually really comfy.

That being said, I *hated* the motorcycling class. I've pronounced this to several people already and on the ride home from Nashville I evaluated the reason for this dislike. (When questioned by Mike and Jenn as to why I hated the class the best answer I had at the time was that I just simply didn't like it...probably came out more like a whine). But I do have a few legitimate objections.

1. They do in 3 days what could be done in 2, or even a day and a half. I really hate it when something gets stretched out for longer than is necessary. And this weekend really pushed the limits of my patience. For the most part is was divided up fairly equal; half classroom and half riding. The classroom stuff was a joke. They should have an opt-out for that part. Seriously, guys, turn your fancy shmancy textbook into a PDF and email out to the students beforehand and let us take the written exam the minute we walk through the door. BAM! Done. Throw in the hour long safety and instructional video and the course has already lost a day. I'm liking it already.

2. The infamous "box." This was a figure 8 in a confined space which in theory simulated two U-turns. Now, I'm not trying to debunk the value of this exercise. It was tough and one should probably know how to maneuver their motorcycle for slow, sharp turns. What really pissed me off about the box was that it was on the final evaluation. And what really pissed me off even more was that as one of the instructors was dishing out testing scores he says, "Yeah the score on the box is really nothing more than bragging rights." Really? So, I got tested on something that ultimately doesn't matter in the larger scheme of motorcycling. One entire element of testing was taken up by the box, a spot that could have gone to an exercise far more important, say for instance stopping on a curve.

3. It was effin' hot. Yeah, yeah...that's a whine for sure, but that's not really the annoying part. It was hot and in an effort to get the class finished as early as possible our illustrious instructors really short changed us on our much needed breaks. On Saturday, which was cooler and overcast, we got breaks about once every 30-45 minutes. Today, we were lucky to get a break every hour to hour and a half. Ridiculous. I think out of the entire weekend this was the one thing that was the deal breaker for me. By 10am I was dehydrated and had a headache that lasted the remainder of the day. Effers.

Okay, so I've bitched and moaned about the things I didn't like, but there were things I did like. Like, riding the motorcycle! That was the best part...when we weren't doing retarded exercises like the box. But I loved the ones that simulated twisties, swerves, etc. I got in trouble a couple of times for going too fast (heh heh) and I snuck my bike up into 3rd gear a few times. (Interesting side story, the only other person that did this failed the final exam because he dropped his bike). The female instructor was awesome, really encouraging, and a good counter-balance to the very intimidating biker dude instructor. And last, but definitely not least, my classmates were a blast.

Anyway, it's done. Tomorrow I head to the DMV to get my motorcycle endorsement added. After that...well, heck, now I need a motorcycle.

There Can Be Only One

Everyone has their own peculiar patterns, or ways, of speech. Most of us are probably unaware of them, much like we are unaware of our little ticks and other things that generally annoy the hell out of people. Who knows where or how these little verbal twitches develop; maybe we pick them up from our parents, our educators,...maybe they are defined by geographical or socio-economic regions. But more importantly, they define us. Yet, there seems to be a popular trend these days among both the media and your Average Joe Shmoe to use Obama-isms. His little verbal ticks have come to act as proof that you are intelligent, educated, making a good well-formed argument, and fighting on the side of right...regardless if that is, in fact, true.

Don't get me wrong, I like Obama, and he is a good orator, but hearing his oft-used statements regurgitated prolifically is quickly becoming a pet peeve. No one needs to prove their intelligence by copying President Obama. Your arguments are not more sound by including the phrase, "fundamental differences" or "now let me be clear." I heard someone on NPR use the last one this morning and I yelled at my radio, "THERE IS ONLY ONE BARACK OBAMA, AND YOU ARE NOT HIM!"

So please, stop stealing the Prez's words. The English language is very extensive. Your options are nearly limitless. Think Obama-isms are awesome? Great! Pick up a thesaurus and find your own way to express the same sentiment. I guarantee you that those of us out there who really are intelligent will be more impressed by your creativity than verbal plagarism.

Remember: There can be only one...Barack Obama.

Tour de Wayne: Epic Fail

Yesterday, the "team" and I participated in the 6th Annual Tour de Wayne; a cycle ride (not a race) through Wayne County, TN. The start of the ride was AWESOME! We were with the pack, traveling at about 20-22 mph, the roads were good, the adrenaline was pumping...and then we turned off the main road through Waynesboro and it pretty much went downhill from there (yet in a totally uphill, challenging way). The first big hill lost us our positions within the pack, which was a little disheartening, but we'd said all along that we were going to take it slow and at our own pace. But the roads continued to degrade as we cut through the early miles. We were on tar and chip, which is bad enough, but the condition of the roads was atrocious. Pot holes (both patched and unpatched), huge areas of gravel washout, and areas that just went beyond potholes and washouts (it was as if the road crews had just thrown out the essential ingredients for making a road and left it to form itself into a road). It was stressful to say the least; something no one in our wee team has ever really had to deal with. Not only were we concerned about a crash, but the damage our bikes were incurring.

And then the mile six event happened. Reggie and Steve were ahead of me, climbing a hill that from where I was didn't look that extreme. I popped into my middle gear in preparation, but when I hit the hill it was much worse than it appeared. I stupidly popped into the granny gear while I was putting the brunt of my weight on the pedals and my chain popped off. Later, the SAG guy who rescued me from mile 31 said, "let me guess, your foot slipped off and tried to bury itself into the ground." Uhmmm, yeah. But, at the time I didn't feel anything amiss. One of the cyclist behind me was nice enough to stop on this god awful hill to pop my chain back on and I was once again on my way. It wasn't until the mile 12 rest stop that my right groin muscle started to tingle a bit. By the time we reached the next rest stop, somewhere around mile 22, it was aching. In retrospect, I should have stopped, or at the very least, dropped out of the 67-miler and finished the 33 instead. But I didn't want to do it by myself and I didn't want the guys to cut short their ride because of me. So, I toughed it out for another 10 miles. And by the time the SAG truck passed us my leg felt like it was on fire. I graciously bowed out. I spent the next two hours with my leg on ice as I waited for the boys to finish. Imagine my surprise when I got a call from Reggie saying that they were at mile 39 and dropping out because of exhaustion and general pissed-offedness.

I think the guys were a little more disappointed in the event than I was. Sure, the roads were rough, and I really think the ride organizers should have better informed us about the state of the route. But it was challenging, physically and mentally, and I liked that. Our rides tend to be physically challenging, but mind-numbingly boring (ie, they tend to lack the technical difficulties that made Tour de Wayne stressful). But, and the boys can feel free to correct me, I think Reggie and Steve *expected* to finish a 67-miler. Tour de Wayne is not a cake walk, and the only 60+ mile ride we've ever done was a relatively flat course in Clarksville. I think Tour de Wayne has taught our team some vital lessons. Like not shifting gears on an uphill. Or expecting too much out of yourself when you are essentially new to a sport. Our "youngest" rider, Steve, literally went from struggling to complete 10 miles to struggling to complete 60 miles in a matter of a few months. I'm the most seasoned, with just at a year of riding, and Reggie is a month or two newer to cycling than me. I think it was agreed by all on the journey home that we need to back it down a level, and pwn a couple of 30-mile rides before we move onto metric centuries. There's nothing wrong with pushing ourselves to the limit, but we've got plenty of room to improve our riding performance in that 30-45 mile range.

So, even though Reggie says he will never do the Tour de Wayne again, I can easily see this ride becoming our cycling nemesis. We'll get you next year, Tour de Wayne! Next year!

My Moon is Upside Down

Anthrocentrism sometimes blows my mind. The latest example occurred last night when Steve casually asked, "What's wrong with you?" I was staring at the giant map of the moon on the bedroom wall. I replied, "I am upset that because the field of astronomy had its start at a time when the seat of human civilization was in Western Europe, therefore placing extra attention on the importance of the North Pole, has made my map of my moon upside down."*

"Say wha?"

But it doesn't stop there. Not only are maps of the moon upside down, but so are globes and maps of the Earth, the Sun, and every other heavenly body humans choose to represent in 2D or 3D. And even more than that, surely this must affect how we visualize these objects within our own minds. Just think how much of our civilization would be different if the seat of civilization had been in New Zealand. The North Pole would be the South Pole, our perception of going up and down (in a directional sense) would be backwards, we wouldn't have the Man in the Moon (and all the cultural references that have sprung from it); our world would figuratively be flipped upside down. Who knows how many things about human civilization and culture would be different had the first maps or globes favored the "South Pole." It's mindblowing.

Damn you, Western Europe for all your scientific and technological growth in bygone eras. Your arbitrariness strikes and inflicts upon the world still. First you screw us all over with the Prime Meridian, and now the "North Pole!" The astronomers of the world can get together and decide that Pluto is not a planet, yet my map of the moon is still upside down. Where can I go to report this injustice?


*Those who thoroughly support the North Pole and its predominance should not take special offense to this post. Of course, my map of the moon isn't really upside down, but neither is it right side up. My point is to not argue that the South Pole is more important than the North, but rather that it has been unduly convicted to a lifetime sentence as the world's underdog pole because of geopolitics and history.

Good News is Better than Bad News

...and I've had both this week.

My spine doctor has an uncanny talent for freaking me out. Oh sure, he's a nice enough guy, but this week's visit resulted in him telling me that my pharmaceutical options for pain relief were pretty limited and the next step would be epidurals twice or thrice (love that word) a year. Not a good outlook for someone who just discovered this little medical ailment a few months ago. I was really expecting a good four or five years of good meds before the shots got introduced. So, class this is as the bad news.


The good news is that my physical therapist is way more optimistic. She's confident that not only can she relieve the majority of the pain, but that if I so desire, she can have me running (occasionally) within three or four months. And how is she going to work this little miracle? Well, stretch my spine at physical therapy and then follow that up with exercises that will strengthen the deep core muscles which will keep my spine stretched. So, in theory, and with a little time and work, I could be back to a reasonably normal life.

It seems my doctor and my physical therapist sit at opposite ends of the spectrum regarding spinal injuries. She says he freaks out all of his patients because he tends to be ultra conservative about the abilities of the human body. This makes me feel a little better, but there is also the thought that she might also be very liberal with the abilities of the human body. Me? Well, I'm going to take the more middle of the road approach. I'd already come to terms with a life without running, and to be honest, ye olde knees were starting to feel the impact anyway. But it would be nice to occasionally play soccer again, or racquetball,...or any of the other things that I like to do.

But the best news of all, my physical therapist says that cycling is great exercise, and she doesn't think I could have picked a better substitute for running. Yaaaaay!

Oh yeah, and electroshock therapy FTW! :D

Update

Apparently, last night's ride was a little more rough on me than I realized. I walked into the office today and my lovely, ever-honest supervisors announced that not only am I dragging ass today but I look exausted.

Thanks. Thanks bunches. This weekend 60 is going to be a blast!

Flutterbye

And in honor of not putting up a pretty picture in awhile:

Ride Nite Highlights

The Reader's Digest version:

Great sunset ride, saw a dead cow, Steve nearly got side-swiped by a deer on a dare, I nearly got side-swiped by an AARP member in a Caddy, survived Dog Alley, went to Mexican, Steve came out of the bathroom and too loudly proclaimed that he could feel his junk enough to take a wee-wee and so the new saddle is a keeper.

In other news, I am once again employed. Two cheers for a steady, if meager, income. I swear, some days I think this master's degree is not worth the poverty I am enduring. It better pay off, that's all I'm sayin'. :D

Record It!

This month the editor of Bicycling Magazine announced a free online training log through their website. The way she describes it makes it sound like its the best thing since whole grain toast. And since I'm quite fond of whole grain toast and keeping track of my progress on the bike, I'm going to give it a shot.

Anyone else interested in trying it out, http://traininglog.bicycling.com/landingpage.aspx

New Eating Schedule

For those of you who may not know, I eat. I eat a lot, in fact. I've gotten some cute comments from friends and family over my eating habits, like:

"You eat how many meals a day???????"
"How the f*ck can you be hungry again?!?!?!?!?!" (ahhh, the words of a supportive spouse).
"Where does it all go, do you have hollow legs?"
"Yeah, Jen, we know...you're hungry."

But the whole eating thing was starting to get a little crazy and a little out of hand. It was becoming an almost waking-hourly event. So, not only was I consuming a lot of calories, think of all the time I had to put into food preparation and cost. I can partly justify it because I do workout almost every single day...and I'm not a 30-minuter at the gym, its usually a multi-hour affair. And I also don't eat a lot when I do eat. But still...every hour? Only triathletes and people with tapeworms can justify that kind of diet.

So, anyway, my good buddy Tara Smith helped me write up a new eating schedule. I haven't officially started it yet because its a holiday weekend (that's my excuse anyway), but I have to admit that I'm a little apprehensive about it. I get a little nervous when my food schedule gets messed with. This is where I have to sidetrack and say that Tara has been trying to diagnose me with multiple psychological disorders since I met her...in fact, she's so adament that I have some type of mental disease that she trawls the internet looking for definitions of mental illnesses so she can look for symptoms in my behavior. So, her helping with a new schedule was another way of diagnosing me, this time with some obsure eating disorder ("I don't think you're really hungry, I think its all in your head!"). Regardless, I have a new schedule that allows me to eat every 2.5 hours from the time I wake up (generally 6:30-7:00am) til about 8pm, but with some flexibility to work around gym, swim, and cycle time. I'm going to try it for a week and see how it goes. Updates to follow.

Ren Faire, et al.

So, I went to my first Renaissance Faire today and, sadly, I have to report that I did not enjoy it. Now, before all my Ren Faire loving friends bawk, my displeasure had nothing to do with the event itself. It was all me. Four hours of sleep, a tummy ache (I'm blaming it on the Waffle House breakfast bike ride), and a back ache pretty much ruined the entire experience for me. I just was not feeling it at all. But I did try...or at least I think I tried. Reggie, Steve, and I met up with Jenn and her workmate/friend, Jamie. After a few minutes of hellos, chatting, and wandering we did a gender split. I have no idea what the boys did during this time, but the girls spent an hour looking at shiny glittery things, swords, and men. I just wish I could have been in a better mood to participate, and many apologies to all if I was a downer. And another apology for dropping out early. But well, considering my state, I think my premature departure was the best possible decision. It made me feel a little better when I joined back up with Reggie and Steve and they said they were okay with leaving because they wanted to ge to a bike shop before it closed.

But I will have to give Ren Faire another chance in the future.

There were some unexpected high points.

1. While coming into the area we saw an ungodly line of cars waiting to get in. Luckily, Reggie spotted a sliver of a road on his GPS. We decided to explore this, and it turned out to be a secret road that led right up to the entrance of the parking area...we bypassed all the wait. Skipping line FTW.

2. While standing outside the gates waiting for Steve and Reggie I hear my name being yelled in the distance. I turn around and see my sister-in-law, Amanda. Unfortunately, my wee bro, Will, had to work today but it was a cool surprise to bump into Amanda. We chatted for ten or so minutes. The unfortuanate thing is that she and her family had already bought their tickets...so no sneaky armband handoffs.

After we left Ren Faire we drove to Nashville, ate lunch at Sam and Zoe's, visited Gran Forno cycle shop, Cumberland Transit, REI, and finished up with a visit to Fresh Market for dinner fixins. I continued to feel like hammered dogshit for the remainder of the day...but I tried to make the best of it without biting any heads off. ;oP

Budget Lawn Care

So...I was sitting naked at my desk this morning (what? I'd just gotten out of the bath...completely reasonable to check Facebook before getting dressed) and the doorbell rings. There was a brief moment when I debated whether to ignore it or answer it...I mean, I really should have ignored it, at that hour its usually Jehovah's Witnii (this is the accepted plural form of a singular Jehovah's Witness, and as they always travel in pairs, this is the preferential way to refer to them). But there are a few people in the neighborhood that occasionally pop by selling chocolates or cookies or whatnot...so I chanced it. I threw on a shirt and a pair of shorts and raced Lady to the door.

It was not a Jehovah's Witness or a chocolate-bearing youth. It was an elderly man...and he looked innocent enough through the peep hole. So I opened the door and he instantly asked for a job. Yeah, that's how he termed it, "Can I have a job mowing your lawn?" Now, its not unusual to get lawn guys soliciting their services...and this guy looked rough, so I felt a little guilty in rejecting him. But, just for future reference, should anyone out there ever decide to go door-to-door looking for work in the lawn care field. First impressions are everything...in fact, the minute that door opens, the interview begins. So, don't show up to an interview wearing something that looks as if its never even seen a washing machine, don't come with a bottle of beer in a paper bag, don't smoke a cigarette, and definitely do not let your mangy mutt try to nose his way into a potential employer's home. Its just bad for business. But the biggest concern was this guy didn't have a lawnmower, a weed eater, or any other equipment necessary to his intended profession...so, I inferred that his intention was to use my lawn care items. Great idea! I'll just let an intoxicated transient roam around in my yard, scare the neighborhood kids with his swagger and unkempt look, flick his cigarette butts on the grass while his dog tries to hump Lady and leaves a pile right in line with the front door. Riiiiiight.

So, I politely told him that I didn't live here--which is true-- and that he should come back at 6pm. I'll let Steve deal with him.

Bringing Up the Rear for a Strong Finish

I can't even count the number of times my personal trainer has fussed at me about working out when ill...at least a dozen times maybe. And do I listen? Uhmmm...generally, no. And today was no exception. I spent most of the day dragging my feet from one sitting spot to another. Tummy aches suck, but they suck even worse with a slightly sore throat. So, it really would have been a good idea to reject Steve's offer of joining him and Reggie on a 20-mile bike ride this evening. But I did it anyway.

And boy did it suck! I was easily a quarter of a mile or more behind Reggie and Steve the entire ride. Even though neither my tummy nor throat bothered me on the ride, I was dragging ass. I had no energy and my legs felt like they were on fire--and that can be blamed on either leg presses on Thursday or racing Mike up a hill on the weekend greenway hike. /sigh

But see, I finished the ride strong. Reggie likes to let me get ahead and then zoom past just as we are reaching our stopping point. And I pulled that ole trick on him tonight. We were pedaling down a hill toward a break in the median so we could cross the road and double back. I found a gap in between the cars racing by, slipped through, and pedaled my little heart out all the way to the top of the hill.

Shaaabang! Sneaky maneuvers, FTW.

"Camping" By Electric Light

Perhaps I should just leave the planning of camping excursions to Reggie. He has been the only one to successfully pull off a camping trip in the last few years. I think this is my 3rd epic fail, but overall Plan C for the weekend went well.

Friday evening Steve and I arrived at Gabe and Em's place, followed shortly by Nathan and Crystal. We spent the bulk of the evening organizing ourselves...for what reason, I can't remember. We didn't eat dinner until 10pm...that's what we get for arriving without provisions...but after burgers and dawgs were dished out we spent the remainder of our waking hours playing a nifty game called Curses. It was a really basic game: two stacks of cards, one revealed a task (like, you are the host of an infomercial, describe to your audience why your deodorant is better than any other deodorant on the market) and the other stack contained curse which you placed upon other players (so, you have to do your infomercial in an Irish accent).

Saturday was a little more productive, and a bit closer to the spirit of camping...ie, at least we experienced a little bit of nature. After breakfast we hung out and bullshitted. After Mike's arrival (the bearer of sandwich materials), we had lunch and went for an afternoon stroll along a greenway and through Knoxville's ritzy Sequoia Hills. I'm not sure about the mileage, but maybe 6 or so. That night we grilled Thai turkey burgers and bratwurst while a storm bristled overhead. After dinner we played a VERY long game of Zombie Fluxx combined with Curses cards......and if that weren't enough craziness, it was a tequilla slammers enhanced event. I think everyone was pretty tipsy by the time the game ended (I can't even remember who won) and then we were herded into the living room for a tequilla shot viewing of the movie Fido (shots were taken any time someone gotten eaten by a zombie or someone said the name Fido...we totally tanned ole Jose). And for those that managed to stay awake, that was followed up by one of the worst movies I've ever seen, Zombies Anonymous; which was something about a support group for zombies. Horrible. After about half of that crap, it was abandoned...and slowly everyone stumbled off to their respective sleeping places.

Sunday, Mike abandoned us for Nashville and laundry after breakfast and the rest of us headed out to Nathan and Crystals to check out the new place and meet the new dogs. And from there we went to the cinema to watch Star Trek. We ate at Red Robin's afterwards and separated. And tomorrow morning, Steve and I will get up at an unnatural hour to make it to Nashville by 8am. Yippee. Skippy.

Okay, so this weekend did not make us all one with nature...it was still pretty cool. Stupid rain...ruinses it, it does. And even though tents and fire were absent, we still managed s'mores, drunken revelry, and good times with friends.

And for My Next Magic Trick....

I cycled 35 miles today, from Reggie's house in Clarksville to Briley Parkway in Nashville.

It was rough! I think it is easily the hardest ride I've ever done. The first 12 miles were some of the worst hills I've had to climb; not only were they steep but they went on and on for what seemed like miles. There was one hill in particular around the 10 or 11 mile mark that absolutely kicked my butt. I stopped 4 or 5 times just to make it to the top.

After Ashland City the ride was pretty easy. In fact most of it was boring. There was only one hill that got me, but it really wasn't that steep, I think exhaustion was kicking my butt by then. Anyway, I'm in no rush to do that route again, but now its up to the rest of the cycling team to break the 35 mile mark. Cmon, Slackers,...get with the program!

Woohoo, go Team Jenny!

Update: Steve has provided me with some altitude and map stuff.

I hurt just thinking about that. :D

The Great Texas Adventure

So, apparently if you spend an entire day half-napping and half-doing eff all nothing as a way to recuperate from eleven days on a motorcycle...you end up wide awake at midnight. Just a little FYI. I spent the last hour or so going through trip photos, doing a little editing and such. I have a lot of pictures that just look like piles of rocks. Like this one:

But the neat thing is that with a little effort that pile of rocks actually came out looking a little surreal. And I think "surreal" is a good way to describe the trip overall.

First of all, I didn't expect west Texas to be so friggin', amazingly beautiful. Seriously, who knew trees and grass hid so much cool stuff?!?!?!?!

Second, the group was awesome. Everyone gelled really well...probably because a few of them have known each other longer than they've known their own mothers. But even the newcomers, me included, got along with everyone.

And third, I never in a million and a half years would have expected Mexican food to be so damn tasty for breakfast. But, I just cannot rave enough about chorizo and egg tacos. TastT!


Everyone kept commenting about how well I was doing on the trip. I get the sneaky suspicion that the more experienced riders in the group (Mike included) expected me to wimp out half way through or be a miserable whiny cow. And they probably had good reason to suspect such an event/reaction. But really...there were so many things that I love involved in the trip: the great outdoors, hot weather, creepy bug things, adventure. And all that stuff offset all of the new and unknown experiences: like being on a motorcycle for only the second time in my life and it was a wopper of a ride at 3000+ miles. And even that wasn't that bad. Sure, the 700 mile stretches really pushed the limits of my ass, but while we were touring we never really did more than 60 miles without stopping for a break. Easy Peasy.


I was also told by more than one person in the group that I need to attend future events...AND next time I should ride my own "scooter." So, that's another incentive to graduate and get a job. :D But even Mike warned that I did so well I could end up a long-distance trip partner...but I get the sneaky suspicion that all hangs on how well the trip photos turn out. hehehe.


Favoritest Thing: Big Bend National Park
Unfavoritest Thing: the long and boring 700-mile stretch to and from TX
Voted MVI (Most Valuable Item): my Camelbac bottle with tube, definite necessity in the desert
Funnest Activity: sitting back and listening to Mike's mom and stepdad banter back and forth
2nd Funnest Activity: going fast...vrooooooooooooooom!
Unfunnest Activity: waking up at 6am every friggin' morning for 8am starts. SLEEP, PEOPLE!
2nd Unfunnest Activity: working on a final exam for the majority of the trip.
Would I Do It Again?: Hell yeah!

Anyway, the Texas ride gets two Jenny thumbs up.

So when do we go again???????

Three Thousand Two Hundred and Sixty Miles

That is the total number of miles Mike and I traveled on his Goldwing. That's Nashville to Dallas-ish and from there Westward Ho! It was a roundabout journey that took us to Big Bend National Park and back. IT. WAS. AWESOME!

Below is a picture of me after some helmetless riding...shhhhhhhhhhh. I will post more about the trip, but for now, all you need to know is that it was the coolest and I'm really friggin' exhausted. :D

I Hate College Right Now...

...because the weather is nice and perfect for evening bike rides. But alas, I still have two papers to finish and a final before I am free. /sigh

Stupid education...ruining my fun!

/highfive

Yes. Yes, you did!

One Reason to NOT Hate Walmart

Well, there are many reason to hate Walmart. For many people it has something to do with Big Bad Corporation taking over and destroying Small Town, USA. But when Big Bad Corporation screws over Big Bad Pharmaceutical Corporation, it makes it all okay. Because if there is anything I hate more than airport security or automotive insurance, its anything associated with American health care, particularly those bastards that charge U.S. customers 10 to 20 times the cost of what they charge for the same drugs in foreign countries. And they try to justify it by claiming that they must recoup the costs they input into research. And a more even, and fair distribution of cost worldwide is out of the question why?

Anyway, this rant does have a purpose. Today I went to the doctor and I got a prescription for Lamisil. My insurance company (also on my shite list) has rejected this prescription a couple of times, and I've never forked out the $800 for the 90 day supply because,...well, I don't believe any LEGAL drug should cost that much. But my doc said that he heard through the grapevine that Walmart is now selling a generic form of Lamisil, and I should just chance it. So...I did. And when I picked up my prescription this evening, guess how much I paid for Walmart's generic Lamisil. $800? Nope. $400? Not even close. Try dividing that by 100. Yep, that's right. $4.00 for a 30 day prescription. So, $12 total to get the full run.

Now I'm glad I didn't bite the bullet and pay out of pocket,...I might have been pissed enough to burn down a headquarters.

You Know It's a Monday...

...when you put your underwear on backwards and inside-out.

You know it's a rough Monday when you don't even realize your error until you head to bed at 11pm.

/sigh

Steps to Remotivation

I'm in a funk. Mental as well as physical funk. I have low energy levels, not to mention I hurt my back a couple of weeks ago and I can't seem to kick it back into happy mode. I haven't been to the gym since Friday. And for the more relaxed readers out there, that may seem like not such a long time ago, but for me that's forever. But I keep talking myself out of working out. This is not a good thing for me. I am a happier and more balanced person after a workout. So, I know it's for the best...so, why do I keep talking myself out of a visit to the gym every.single.day.?

So, here is the game plan:

1. Push my mental reset button. This has been achieved in the past by going for a long run or an hour or so of contemplative and meditative silence. I'll try the run first...easier on the knees.

2. Set gym visits into my daily schedule. Considering my low energy levels in the afternoons, I guess gym will have to be in the mornings.

3. Read lots of health and nutrition articles/blogs/etc. Just reading about being healthy motivates me.

4. Prioritize my tasks. I'm willing to admit that I've been feeling a little overwhelmed this semester (hey, what else is new?) So, maybe a little organization, and actually getting my work completed early, will relieve some of the mental exaustion. And leave me more time for physical activities.

5. Have a word with myself. Ya know, a little self-motivational conversation starring outer and inner self.

Well, that's a start. Now...to only find time to start the Remotivation Revolution.

Miscalculation

So, apparently all this time I thought I was traveling 10 miles to get from the house to campus ...well, I was mistaken. Its actually 12 miles. Steve entered the address of both into gmaps pedometer, and not only was I going two extra miles than I believed, but its almost all uphill (that part I sort of suspected), but its a very gradual incline except for a couple of big hills.

Anyway, go me!

Jen vs Sign

Yet another example of me testing the limits. There is a whole series of photographs of me defying warning signs. I think Reggie holds the majority of these pics, where I am inevitably on the wrong side of a "DANGER: DO NOT CROSS" sign. I should get them all together and do a blog post.

But really, they're just suggestions, right?

Perchance to Dream

The bike I lust after:



But much like the real Prince of Spain, way out of my league.

Yet, still, a girl can dream.

Some Possible Bike Routes

So, I've been toying with some possible bike routes for us to conquer the first good weekend this spring. Here are a few ideas, trying to keep the mileage about 20 to 30 miles. These are there-and-backs btw.

Ashland City to Briley Parkway


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Sango Walmart to Port Royal State Park


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Or, alternatively, we could do a weekend long bike ride following the nice, wide, plenty of room for cyclists, Highway 52 from Orlinda, TN to Celina, TN, using my parents place in Lafayette as a half-way point and end-of-day resting point.


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We could even bribe my mom to be support team :D

So my doctor said to me...

"I think you should just do more cardio."

So let me explain. I went to APSU health services a few days ago because I've been really really really exhausted lately. But more than that, my sensitivity to lack of food increased...I now officially class it as a hypersensitivity to lack of food. For example, its 12:32pm right now, roughly twenty minutes ago I ate a can of tuna fish and a V8. I am starting to feel a little dragged down, and I know if I don't eat something within the next half hour I will start to feel sick. This isn't a new thing for me, its something I've been dealing with for a few years now, but there are periods where it is more prevalent than others. Anyway, they drew some blood just to test for diabetes, anaemia, thyroid imbalances, etc etc. I've had all of these things tested before, and they always come back as shining beacons of my health. Unfortunately, the problem remains unsolved. Sometimes I even wish that they would find *something* just so I could at least identify the problem and solve it.

But,...I digress. The APSU doc said, as expected, that all my levels are fine and he came up with some possible reasons, but not stated with any degree of definitiveness, and which I pretty much refuse to believe are legitimate. 1. The facts of life about being a woman. 2. Waining and building levels of stress. 3. A recurring viral infection that lowers my immune system.

His solution to these *possible* causes of exhaustion/nausea: do more cardio exercise. This was after I told him I exercise on average, 3-4 days a week. Now I'm willing to admit that I do more strength training than cardiovascular training, so maybe he's right. But his logic was not "do this for overall health improvement" but "do this to flood your body with endorphins, and you won't be so tired." Hmmm...I should have mentioned this to him, but I am exhausted after workouts...but by this point the inner voice already came to the conclusion that this guy doesn't really care and he's just trying to appease me.

Anyway, Vanderbilt has a health analysis program for its faculty and staff and their significant others, so I may just fork out the $50 to see what a nutritionist has to say. But already, I'm thinking its going to be, "eat more vegetables and do more cardio."

Facelifts Can't Hide Inner Ugly

So I read an article on CNN about how Rush Limbaugh recently fired up a youthful crowd of republicans (shame to anyone who capitalizes that word) at the Conservative Political Action Conference. I had a sarcastic chuckle to myself at this quote by Limbaugh:

"We want every American to be the best he or she chooses to be. We recognize that we are all individuals. We love and revere our founding documents, the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence. We believe that the preamble of the Constitution contains an inarguable truth, that we are all endowed by our creator with certain inalienable rights, among them life, liberty, freedom -- and the pursuit of happiness."

Really?

I feel every sentence is missing the conservative caveats for which the republicans are infamous, at least in ideology if not in stated word. There is nothing in Limbaugh's statements that I would ever associate with republicans or conservatives unless it was followed up with, "as long as we approve." Is this not the same group of individuals that consistently muster their political might to deny gays the same rights as their heterosexual counterparts? How is that respecting the inalienable rights of all? Is the pursuit of happiness limited to only those that abide to conservative doctrines?

And Limbaugh's suggestion that Obama and the liberals are using fear-mongering tactics to create "big government." Seriously, which ass did Limbaugh's head call home for the last eight years?

Just more proof that it doesn't matter how pretty the packaging, a pile of horse manure is still a stinky pile of...

Yeah, El Cap, I'm Looking at You!

So, thus far one of my New Year's resolutions has proved a tedious effort: to hit the climbing wall at least one day a week. Thus far, since the semester started I have gone three times. No wait...maybe only twice. Heck, I can't remember. Let's just say, not many times.

Anyway, I went today. The first (and second, if it even occurred) time I went there were so many climbers on the wall that I had to suffice with doing some bouldering. Which is okay, its still climbing, and arguably far more difficult than the wall. But I wanted to climb high, Gilbert! So, today I got the opportunity. By the time the wall cleared enough for me to sneak in I'd already been bouldering for half an hour. Needless to say, I got 1/4 of the way up a 5.5 and my arms gave out. I took a ten minute break and tried a 5.4. I got 1/2 way before I slipped off a handhold. /sigh

The depressing part is that Stefan (rock climbing extraordinaire, as far as I'm concerned, I watched him climb a 5.7 today with one arm...ONE ARM!) said, "wow, you were climbing much harder stuff than this last year." This was the part where I hung my head in shame and admitted that I hadn't climbed in five months.

So now I feel compelled to find time and energy to get back into rock climbing. Stefan (along with some other members of the climbers club that owns King and Queens Bluff) has offered to help me climb outdoors at the Bluff. All I need to do is show up with shoes and gut-determination.

Fungi Have Feelings Too

One of the things I enjoy most about photography is discovering the simplistic beauty in the things we pass by and take for granted on a daily, maybe even hourly, basis. World, meet Fungus. Fungus, meet World.

Around the Block

So, I finished work on Monday, and I had this crazy idea of hopping on my bike when I got home and cycling around the block. Except well, it wasn't exactly "the block." It was just under three miles, and pretty darn intense. Maybe it was because I was still sore from Saturday's ride, or maybe it was the steep inclines (funny, I never noticed them in the Jeep), but it was tough.



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Double Dip

For those of you that may not follow Reggie's blog (uhm, I think that would be you, Tara), here is his recent post. I figure we only need so many blogs about the awesomeness of this weekend's bike ride. hehe.

http://undonelife.blogspot.com/2009/02/clarksville-to-dover-by-bicycle-attempt.html

So my advisor says to me today...

..."wow, this thesis topic is actually bigger than I realized. You could probably do a Ph.D. dissertation with all this information. We'll need to condense."

Sheesh...just when you think things are going well...BAM!

That Peculiar Institution

Marriage is a quirky thing. It inevitably makes you fat, emotionally and financially dependent upon another human being, and legally bound to them until...well...the contract ends. Or death, whichever comes first. On that note, it also has a habit of sucking the very life out of you. Things that are "mine" become "ours" and my particular tastes, wants, and desires must to be tempered by my mates'.

Now, I've admitted in the past to several people that had Steve and I lived in the same country we probably never would have gotten married. But our different nationalities made it a requirement. Thing is, I never wanted, or envisioned myself, getting married. Much how I never envisioned myself having children. Perhaps I am just innately selfish, but I abhor the physical and emotional demands of relationships. I'm a loner at heart. And I tend to act, much to my husband's dismay, like a single person. Well, maybe not "single" but more accurately a free spirit in a steady relationship. Some people were designed for marriage; it fits their personality like a glove. For me...marriage fits me like an O.J. Simpson glove.

I hate telling Steve where I am, where I'm going, what I'm doing, and when I will be home. And I often rebel against this marital requirement by accidently leaving my cell phone in the car, or accidently clicking the ringer onto silent, or simply escaping into another world where I have no limits on what I do or where I go.

But I've realized one little thing...if I don't stay on top of it, I really do fall into this funk where my needs, wants, desires become secondary to his. For instance, I am an outdoors enthusiast...Steve would rather watch it all go up in a forest fire. And if I'm not careful (or maybe if I don't nag enough) we will spend consecutive weekends doing nothing but things he likes to do...like sit in front of the computer all weekend.

Recently I've decided to start endulging in activities I enjoy, with or without him. In the past, if it were something he didn't enjoy (like hiking) I would simply not do it because a.) if I forced him to participate he would whine and make the whole experience miserable for each other and/or b.) I didn't want to do things without him.

So...all this to say that in a couple weekends I am doing my first backpacking trip. It is one of those things I've always wanted to do, but have been unable to do with Steve because of his sleep apnea (sp?). Its a 2.5 day excursion into the wilds of Tennessee in ball/ovary freezing temperatures, roughing it with nothing but the bare essentials for survival. Or at least that is the plan. I'm excited. So you guys set your calendars...Steve will be looking for company come February 21st.

Fun Fact: "that peculiar institution" was a nice political euphamism for slavery prior to the Civil War.

Life Left to Chance

This last weekend Steve and I penciled in a date with our Knoxville buddies, Gabe and Emilie, to go skiing. Of the four of us, I was the only one who had never been skiing (or done anything remotely athletic in snow other than make a GIANT snowball one year...but hey, I'm from Florida, it's an understandable hole in my life), so I was really really really really excited. So we arrived at Gabe and Em's house late Friday night to hear that they *probably* would not be able to go skiing with us on Sunday due to two unexpected turns-for-the-worse. 1. Gabe officially got fired from Jewelry TV and 2. Emilie's future with Kimberly Clarke is questionable. But they offered to join us for some awesome hiking on Saturday.

And it indeed was awesome. We hiked a trail unofficially known as "Trainwreck Hike," aptly named as it ends (or maybe that's just where we decided to stop and turn around back for the car) at the site of a 1920's train wreck. It took us forever to reach what was reported to only be 2.8 miles, and we had mixed expectations about what we would find. Along the path we discussed...is it a train, as in locomotive, and if so, where the hell are the tracks?.... is it a wagon train? and if so, how the hell can there be anything remaining after so many years?...and why the hell would anyone chose this bumpy, hilly "road" to transport anything at all? Well, when we arrived we got some pretty cool answers. This is what we found: its a steel steam-powered locomotive, complete with steel wagonwheels (not pictured) lying in the bed of a creek. It is very cool, and if I can remember the name of the trail I would like to go back again and get closer (this is not my photo, and the water was too high on Saturday to get close).



Anyway, after this venture, Gabe and Em left us in Gatlinburg and Steve and I headed out to celebrate our birthdays with a little Italian food and a bottle of red wine. It was fun stumbling around Gatlinburg afterwards...we bought taffy, touristy stickers, and flavored coffee (and as most of you know, I HATE flavored coffee...yeah, I was tipsy for sure!)

The next morning we dragged ourselves out of bed and made our way to Ober Gatlinburg for skiing. But, as we were getting closer and closer to the mountain, we started toying with the idea of trying out snowboarding. Gabe and Emilie were really our inspiration for skiing...I really wanted to try both...Steve seemed a little hesitant but also seemed equally willing to try either. So, as we stood in front of the cashier at Ober, who looked at us with pained patience as we dug around in our pockets for a coin and flipped it to decide what we would do, fate decided for us. Tails ftw. Snowboarding it was.

Now, for those of you that have never been snowboarding, but have ever critisized the guys and gals you see on TV...let me just tell you now, it's a lot harder than it looks. The boots are heavy, the board is awkward, and once your strapped in it takes a lot of effort to not head straight down the mountain at breakneck speed. Steve spent most of the day boarding for 5-10 feet, then he'd fall, get upset, fight and kick to get the snowboard clips released, and then huff back up the hill where he would sit and watch me snowboard for 30 minutes before repeating the process all over again. Me? Well I went up and down that darn hill as much and as often as I could. The more I fell, the more determined I was to not fall the next time. After about five hours of this I was exhausted, and at 4pm, Sunday, February 1, 2009, Steve and I delicately made our way back down the mountain and gorged ourselves sick at The Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. Restaurant. Good times!

Anyway, here's a picture of me looking all suave in my gear:









X-Games XIV, Here I come!

And so it begins...again.

Yes folks, its that time of the year again, when vacation ends and classes begin. I am usually not so forlorn about class time...I mean, I don't like it, but I can usually get through it by telling myself "ah, cmon, its only three and half months,...you can do it!" But last semester was sooooo horrible...oh where to begin, where to begin. Hmmm...maybe I shouldn't. Needless to say, last semester is one in which I hope I never have to repeat. There was one class in particular that had an impossible workload, and I felt that I sacrificed the work in my other classes just to stay on top of it. And I also felt I was a zombie at work...anything that required minute-to-minute thought processes usually ended up royally effed-up. And sleep? Well...that was just impossible. I got into the habit of going to bed about 10pm-ish, and waking up at 3am-ish, just to catch up on reading assignments.

So, even though Spring 09 promises to be a little less crazy, I am dreading tomorrow. But the good news is that I will have only one sit-on-my-arse-for-three-hours course; the other two are an online course and an independent readings. So....woot! Here's hoping I can both educate myself and have a life!