My pain threshold, explored....

I'm going to count this as my San Diego International recap. And I'll get to it after I switch the stereo from the DVD feed. Who would have thought that the end credits of Ghost Rider would have such annoying music? Seriously, it's like nails on a blackboard remixed by Jay-Z. From the techno/industrial cover of Ghost Riders in the Sky (Get it?) to..oh, never mind. This doesn't mean anything.

Sidebar: Fun drinking game: Watch Ghost Rider and take a shot every time Eva Mendes delivers a line like she's made of plastic.

So, back to the race.

I can't believe I know this many people who are willing to get up at 4 in the morning on a Sunday and put on spandex.

Interesting experience, this one. I realized that I've come a long way because I wasn't nervous. I didn't fuss with my bag all night and I wasn't worried about forgetting anything.

I had two goals going into the race:

1. Run the entire course. No walk breaks.
2. Finish without feeling like I could have done more.

I managed both. Yes, you heard that right, I ran the whole 10K. My pace was close to 10:30 per mile, but screw it, man. I haven't managed to run the entire course since Mission Bay last October. I wasn't even limping when I got done.

I think I'm capable of going faster, but that's for another race. For this one, I'll take the lessons, and the proof that I might actually get my run back.

I hit the swim feeling good. It was a floating start, only my second time doing that, but I reaffirmed my belief that it is the coolest way to start a tri. Straight, u-shaped course, and only 1,000 meters. I was out of the water in 14.47, which was a little slower than I wanted, but still not too bad.

My first indication that I was going to have a good race was when I ran into T1. Yes, I ran into T1. I didn't limp. My foot didn't hurt. I ran. I hit the bike with a big boost, feeling good.

The bike went well, though I wish I had been able to preview the whole course. I only rode from the transition area to the Navy gate before the race. That's the big hill, but I wasn't quite ready for the tail end past the cemetary and down to Cabrillo Monument, twice. I also enjoyed passing people who were dressed for more serious racing than I will ever contemplate. Seriously, Team Skyfuel, lighten up and work on your drafting/passing rules. That, or stop selling your jerseys to newbies at the expo.

I got a little more tired than I expected on the ride and had to take some of the hills a little slower than I wanted to, but I was able to keep my speed up above single digits pretty much the whole way. I think I dropped into the 9s once or twice. I definitely need to fix my dang cadence sensor though. I miss that. I didn't realize how dependent I am on it.

I was ready for T2, with my feet out of the shoes and coasting down the hill to the dismount line when I saw the guy in my line go down. I got scared for a second because he was disoriented and having trouble picking up his bike. Someone was next to me, so I wasn't going around, but he got it together and I was able to dismount smoothly.

Through T2 and out onto the run, where I had my first moment of doubt. About a quarter mile onto the course, my calves were spasming and making me shuffle. Someone ran by me, slapped my shoulder and told me I was looking strong. How bad did I really look, I wonder? I kept running, gritting my teeth until Jay caught me. We ran most of the course together, except that he got a burst at the finish and left me behind just before the chute. I tried to keep up, but I wasn't going any faster. Nice work, man, and thanks for the pacing help.

It took until the middle of mile two for the cramps to work out, but they did pass, which means I need to do some bricks, but my nutrition and hydration held up. I only used two water bottles on the bike. One with water and one with 2 tabs of Nuun and 2 scoops of Carbo-pro. I was a little worried that it wouldn't be enough. I usually have a couple of Gus, but I left them behind to try this method. It worked. I love it, too. No trash, no choking down weird pasty stuff.

My foot was sore as hell all through the run, but it stayed loose and the pain hasn't stuck. I guess now I just need to get off my lazy butt and train my run.

The run at this race is great. Flat and fast (if you're into that sort of thing) and there's lots of spectator participation. The older lady on the bike who kept riding 100 yards ahead of us and saying "Damn, you caught me." was awesome. Seriously, she kept it up for at least two miles. It never got old. Then there was the, let's say special, homeless guy who yelled at every runner going by, calling us by race number. "Go 307!" He was loud. He had an appreciative audience. He had a balance problem. I was a little worried that he would fall into the harbor, but he hung in there.

I had a fun moment at the last aid station, when the volunteers asked if we wanted to be splashed. I said yes, and they promptly threw two cups of water into my eyes. It sheeted all over my glasses and I had to take them off. Then there was the lovely combo of harbor water slime, sweat and coppertone sport that surprisingly, doesn't feel very good underneath your contacts. I couldn't see a damn thing, and I gave serious thought to scratching out my eyes.

The finish line was great, except that I totally spaced on the beer garden. Oh well, put that in the race notes for next year.

I feel so much better now.

Turns out that the Earth is not in danger of being swallowed up by a precision engineered, man-made black hole that stinks of exotic cheese and Gauloise cigarettes.

That's right, the BBC says that the Large Hadron Collider opening soon on the Swiss-French border won't kill us all.

"Critics have previously raised concerns that the production of weird hypothetical particles called strangelets in the LHC could trigger the mass conversion of nuclei in ordinary atoms into more strange matter - transforming the Earth into a hot, dead lump."

At least it'll probably be a dry heat, right? But it's okay, because the reality is that there's no conceivable danger that it'll happen. In the words of the report:

"Over the past billions of years, nature has already generated on Earth as many collisions as about a million LHC experiments - and the planet still exists."

So there.

I love this stuff.

If you want to, read the full article.

What doesn't kill the planet...probably still kills the planet.

Bio-diesel burners beware. Ethanol producers, stop what you're doing. Step away from the corn...

You are killing the Gulf of Mexico.

You bastards.

Okay, in all fairness, it's really just the flooding speeding things up, but hey, why not sensationailze?

Vignettes...

This post is really just an excuse to log into Blogger and write something, since I haven't in a while. I'm not going to explain it.
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If you're on the Atkins diet, can you use Carbo-Pro as race fuel?
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A week or two ago, someone told me that I don't listen to music that she'd listen to in public. I spent a while wondering what exactly this meant. I mean sure, my "Variations on Mmmbop" CD might be a bit embarrassing, but trust me, you've got to hear the Wu Tang version.
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Tonight we were swimming at the cove and I went without a wetsuit for the second time this year, if you count Lavaman. I haven't done the Cove without the benefit of neoprene in a while and I have to say, I had completely forgotten about the scratchy, gloopy awesomeness that is stroking barechested through a stand of kelp. Don't believe me? Try this: grab some 80 grit sandpaper, slide it through a can of Crisco and rub it across your nipples. Trust me, it'll be fun.
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Went to the doctor today to follow up on the foot, which has been backsliding lately into the painful side of things, but the other side of the foot hurts now, so that's something. Anyway, it's been hurting and I thought that I had maybe reinjured it. So I went to see the doc and he grabbed my foot and squeezed it. It went something like this:

"Does this hurt?"

"No."

"Then it's probably not fractured."

"So what do I do about running?"

"You'll have to just work through it."

Yes, that's right, my doctor's advice was to man up.
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Back to the Cove tonight, I swam right over a school (pod, squadron, buttload of?) bat rays. There had to have been 15 or 20 of them. I thought they were awesome, four or six feet below me. The one that was a foot away...it scared the crap out of me. I think I screamed in the water.
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If someone asks you to play Sharks and Minnows, it's a fun pool game. If they ask you to play Sharks and Seals, you'll need a spoon...or a running start.
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luxurious repl1ca bl0g p0st

Is there any word in the English language that needs to be stripped from the lexicon more than luxurious? And luxury? I mean, seriously, I've been updating the company spam filter for the last eight years and it keeps showing up tied to fake watches, knockoff purses and penis pills. Yeah, luxury penis pills. Apparently they're coated in gold-leaf velour or something.

I can't even see a luxury car ad on TV without wanting to sit up and shout "SPAM!" as I dive for the remote.

So there. We should all get together and ban the word luxury and all its spinoffs. It has outlived its utility.

And by the way, if the medical industry ever does try and go online, those cats are screwed. Nothing they can do will get them into the world's inboxes.

That's my random observation for the day.

So there is justice in the world...

Just as I was beginning to lose all hope in a just and ordered universe presided over by a benevolent superbeing, this happened:

** Pop mogul gets 25 years for fraud **
Lou Pearlman, who created Backstreet Boys and 'N Sync, is sentenced to 25 years in prison for a $300m fraud.

Sadly, the indictment fails to cover the actual creation of said boy bands, but hey, they had to get Al Capone on tax evasion, so we'll take what we can get.

Going Off Topic

Frankly, I'm posting this because I'm bored. I've had a lot on my mind lately and I'm using my keyboard to work through it all. I finished the first draft of the story below a couple of months back. I've been tinkering with it ever since, and I've got a draft that I like now. That's about all I'm gonna say. The first page is posted here. If you want to, you can get the whole thing here.

In From The Cold

It’s a strange feeling, like being rudderless in a windy harbor. You watch people moving by you, going about their lives like there’s nothing wrong with the world and you know that you can never be like them. You’re on the outside, a part of something, but not anything that the ones on the inside would recognize.

You’re too far gone. Too far into the wilderness. So you stand there, hands in your coat pockets, breathing out contrails they slide by, laughing, arm in arm on their way to brightly lit homes and restaurants with high-end atmosphere and tiny food. You tell yourself it’s all in the name of King and Country, that you’re fighting the good fight, but in the end you know it’s a lie.

You want a brightly lit home. A meal in an atmospheric restaurant. A hand to hold. Something to tell you that in the end it’s all worth it. That there’s more than a gold watch or a black star on a white marble wall waiting for you.

So what do you do? You head to a safe place. A smoky bar where no one will know your face. Bourbon. Neat.