Sunday, April 02, 2006
Triathlon Elite
It's time to sign up for Half Vineman. Oops, I mean Vineman Ironman 70.3. For my six hours of exertion (or less, fingers crossed), I will pay $225. I think it was $150 in 2002, when this madness began.
So think about: Do two half-iron races each year, plus a couple of Olympic-distance events (about $100 apiece), a marathon ($65) and couple of 10Ks (say, $30 each) -- all of which you need in order to break up the schedule and keep yourself motivated -- and you're closing in on a grand for entry fees alone. And heaven forbid you get ambitious and want to do a full iron-distance race: Full Vineman is $295 if you sign up six months ahead of time (sure you get a break, but these fees tend to be practically nonrefundable, so early signup can be risky); it's $405 six days before the race.
Question: Which of the two major parties will take on the issue of skyrocketing athletic-event entry fees? C'mon. Those of us competing are on the front lines in the battle against obesity, that national scourge. Support the troops!
It's time to sign up for Half Vineman. Oops, I mean Vineman Ironman 70.3. For my six hours of exertion (or less, fingers crossed), I will pay $225. I think it was $150 in 2002, when this madness began.
So think about: Do two half-iron races each year, plus a couple of Olympic-distance events (about $100 apiece), a marathon ($65) and couple of 10Ks (say, $30 each) -- all of which you need in order to break up the schedule and keep yourself motivated -- and you're closing in on a grand for entry fees alone. And heaven forbid you get ambitious and want to do a full iron-distance race: Full Vineman is $295 if you sign up six months ahead of time (sure you get a break, but these fees tend to be practically nonrefundable, so early signup can be risky); it's $405 six days before the race.
Question: Which of the two major parties will take on the issue of skyrocketing athletic-event entry fees? C'mon. Those of us competing are on the front lines in the battle against obesity, that national scourge. Support the troops!
Saturday, April 01, 2006
In the H2O
My sorry ability after more than four years of swimming is pretty remarkable but, it occurred to me today (while swimming), perhaps not as remarkable as I like to think. It takes me nearly 40 minutes to crank out an open-water 2K and there is no denying that falls into the category headed Sucks. What popped into my head today, however, as I swam 2500 yards in the rain, was that four years and three month ago, when this madness began, I could hardly make it back and forth once in a 25-yard pool. Was it really so? It really was. My early swims were 300 or 400 yards, with rests after each lap. I was in no swimming shape at all and had no clue what I was doing. Now, at least, I have fitness, and while I struggle with my technique mightily, I do understand the basics. I know how to breathe, and about avoiding drag, and not to drop my elbow. I know enough to be frustrated by my inability to do it all well! Progress, of a sort.
My sorry ability after more than four years of swimming is pretty remarkable but, it occurred to me today (while swimming), perhaps not as remarkable as I like to think. It takes me nearly 40 minutes to crank out an open-water 2K and there is no denying that falls into the category headed Sucks. What popped into my head today, however, as I swam 2500 yards in the rain, was that four years and three month ago, when this madness began, I could hardly make it back and forth once in a 25-yard pool. Was it really so? It really was. My early swims were 300 or 400 yards, with rests after each lap. I was in no swimming shape at all and had no clue what I was doing. Now, at least, I have fitness, and while I struggle with my technique mightily, I do understand the basics. I know how to breathe, and about avoiding drag, and not to drop my elbow. I know enough to be frustrated by my inability to do it all well! Progress, of a sort.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
My Achilles Heel: My Achilles Tendon
The truth is, I wore woefully worn-out shoes for the Napa Valley Marathon. Not only that, it was a miserably cold and rainy day and because I didn't want to get wet (which I did, anyway, standing and waiting for the start), I did not warm up. No surprise, then, that I am now dealing with my first nagging injury in more than four years of triathlon.
Ran about four miles today and it wasn't excruciating. It wasn't even that bad. But four miles at 9 minutes/mile is hardly pushing it, and the whole way, I could feel the tightness in my right Achilles tendon. I could probably keep running two or three times a week, 4-6 miles each run, and things wouldn't get worse. Nor would they get better. All of which puts me in pretty sad shape pointing toward a half-iron race in June, or even late July. No, the thing to do -- what that wise little voice in my head is saying -- is, "Don't run for 4-6 weeks. It's the only way to get over this so you can really get back at it."
Meanwhile, I have nearly convinced myself that I need to buy this:
Don't really have the money, but damn, I want a triathlon bike! Might not make me faster, but I do know it would rev up my training bigtime for the rest of the season. And that will make me faster.
The truth is, I wore woefully worn-out shoes for the Napa Valley Marathon. Not only that, it was a miserably cold and rainy day and because I didn't want to get wet (which I did, anyway, standing and waiting for the start), I did not warm up. No surprise, then, that I am now dealing with my first nagging injury in more than four years of triathlon.
Ran about four miles today and it wasn't excruciating. It wasn't even that bad. But four miles at 9 minutes/mile is hardly pushing it, and the whole way, I could feel the tightness in my right Achilles tendon. I could probably keep running two or three times a week, 4-6 miles each run, and things wouldn't get worse. Nor would they get better. All of which puts me in pretty sad shape pointing toward a half-iron race in June, or even late July. No, the thing to do -- what that wise little voice in my head is saying -- is, "Don't run for 4-6 weeks. It's the only way to get over this so you can really get back at it."
Meanwhile, I have nearly convinced myself that I need to buy this:
Don't really have the money, but damn, I want a triathlon bike! Might not make me faster, but I do know it would rev up my training bigtime for the rest of the season. And that will make me faster.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Why We're All Wet
The totals in inches haven't been huge, but the rain has been persistent this month. A number of locations have either already or will surely set a record for number of March days with measurable precipitation. Today, the morning discussion out of the National Weather Service's Monterey office takes a crack at explaining the phenomenon (they like all-caps, don't ask me why):
THE PERSISTENCE OF THIS PATTERN IS BECOMING QUITE REMARKABLE. THE COMPLETE LACK OF A HUDSON BAY LOW AND THE STRONG POSITIVE ANOMALY THAT HAS PERSISTED OVER GREENLAND HAVE ESSENTIALLY BLOCKED SYSTEMS FROM MOVING DUE EAST INTO CANADA AND FORCED THEM SOUTH INTO THE US. THE OTHER MAJOR ANCHOR FOR MAINTAINING THIS PATTERN HAS BEEN THE PERSISTENT BROAD UPPER RIDGE NEAR 160W. THIS HAS BEEN SUPPORTED BY THE ALMOST CONTINUOUS KONA LOW TYPE SYSTEMS THAT HAVE PLAGUED HAWAII FOR ALMOST TWO MONTHS. THE HEATING GENERATED BY THE PERSISTENT CONVECTION HELPS BUILD THE RIDGE TO THE NORTH WHICH AMPLIFIES THE DOWNSTREAM TROUGHS WHICH HAPPENS TO BE THE SYSTEMS THAT HAVE BEEN TRACKING INTO CALIFORNIA FOR OVER A MONTH. FINALLY THE CONVECTION OVER AUSTRALIA THAT HAS SUPPORTED MULTIPLE TROPICAL CYCLONES IS ALSO HELPING TO ANCHOR THE LONG WAVE PATTERN. THE RIDGE BUILDING NORTH OF THIS CONVECTION HAS AMPLIFIED THE VERY DEEP TROUGHS THAT HAVE BEEN DEVELOPING EAST OF JAPAN WHICH HAS ALSO HELPED BUILD THE BROAD LONG WAVE RIDGE DOWNSTREAM NEAR 160W. UNTIL WE SEE ANY OF THESE THREE MAJOR ANCHOR POINTS BREAK DOWN THE UNUSUALLY WET AND COLD PATTERN FOR CALIFORNIA WILL CONTINUE. RIGHT NOW THIS LOOKS LIKE IT WILL CONTINUE INTO NEXT WEEK AT LEAST.
The totals in inches haven't been huge, but the rain has been persistent this month. A number of locations have either already or will surely set a record for number of March days with measurable precipitation. Today, the morning discussion out of the National Weather Service's Monterey office takes a crack at explaining the phenomenon (they like all-caps, don't ask me why):
THE PERSISTENCE OF THIS PATTERN IS BECOMING QUITE REMARKABLE. THE COMPLETE LACK OF A HUDSON BAY LOW AND THE STRONG POSITIVE ANOMALY THAT HAS PERSISTED OVER GREENLAND HAVE ESSENTIALLY BLOCKED SYSTEMS FROM MOVING DUE EAST INTO CANADA AND FORCED THEM SOUTH INTO THE US. THE OTHER MAJOR ANCHOR FOR MAINTAINING THIS PATTERN HAS BEEN THE PERSISTENT BROAD UPPER RIDGE NEAR 160W. THIS HAS BEEN SUPPORTED BY THE ALMOST CONTINUOUS KONA LOW TYPE SYSTEMS THAT HAVE PLAGUED HAWAII FOR ALMOST TWO MONTHS. THE HEATING GENERATED BY THE PERSISTENT CONVECTION HELPS BUILD THE RIDGE TO THE NORTH WHICH AMPLIFIES THE DOWNSTREAM TROUGHS WHICH HAPPENS TO BE THE SYSTEMS THAT HAVE BEEN TRACKING INTO CALIFORNIA FOR OVER A MONTH. FINALLY THE CONVECTION OVER AUSTRALIA THAT HAS SUPPORTED MULTIPLE TROPICAL CYCLONES IS ALSO HELPING TO ANCHOR THE LONG WAVE PATTERN. THE RIDGE BUILDING NORTH OF THIS CONVECTION HAS AMPLIFIED THE VERY DEEP TROUGHS THAT HAVE BEEN DEVELOPING EAST OF JAPAN WHICH HAS ALSO HELPED BUILD THE BROAD LONG WAVE RIDGE DOWNSTREAM NEAR 160W. UNTIL WE SEE ANY OF THESE THREE MAJOR ANCHOR POINTS BREAK DOWN THE UNUSUALLY WET AND COLD PATTERN FOR CALIFORNIA WILL CONTINUE. RIGHT NOW THIS LOOKS LIKE IT WILL CONTINUE INTO NEXT WEEK AT LEAST.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
New Music
So I've discovered Rogue Wave, three years after the cool people fell in love with them and probably two years and, oh, six months after those same cool people dismissed them because they were now popular. Nevertheless, I like 'em a lot and have been listening to the CD nonstop since it arrived yesterday morning. Apparently, the band had a song played on -- or they played a song on, don't know which -- The OC, which presumably means they are listened to by high school and college kids. So am I outta my element or what? But I love the layers and the narcotic, dreamy feel of their music, the way it rises and falls, its warmth amid not-too-precious young-person's angst.
Er, yes, I said CD. Haven't gotten to the Ipod/MP3 business yet.
So I've discovered Rogue Wave, three years after the cool people fell in love with them and probably two years and, oh, six months after those same cool people dismissed them because they were now popular. Nevertheless, I like 'em a lot and have been listening to the CD nonstop since it arrived yesterday morning. Apparently, the band had a song played on -- or they played a song on, don't know which -- The OC, which presumably means they are listened to by high school and college kids. So am I outta my element or what? But I love the layers and the narcotic, dreamy feel of their music, the way it rises and falls, its warmth amid not-too-precious young-person's angst.
Er, yes, I said CD. Haven't gotten to the Ipod/MP3 business yet.
Monday, March 13, 2006
What Napa Kids Do
Niko and I bottled wine on Sunday. At left, he's filling the bottles, a task he has down to an art. Below, he's sitting in front of the 10 cases -- that's 120 bottles, people! -- we finished off. Look for the limited edition release with the labels handcrafted at Niko's Paper Factory.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Barry
Been thinking a lot about the Barry-steroids story. I have opinions on the matter but haven't been sure what to write, as those opinions are sprawling and probably not very interesting. So I'll just share the initial emotion the story stirred in me, which I quickly typed up in an email to my friend Dan:
I'll never forget 1993 ('93, right?) when I went on a weekend solo mountain biking/camping venture in the mountains of Modoc County and, with a little transistor radio in my tent, listened to Barry hit three* homers at Dodger Stadium on the third-to-last day of the season to keep the Giants alive for one more day. Alone in the wilderness, I hollered and cheered until I cried. That was Friday. Saturday, another Giants win. Still alive. On Sunday, a victory from a playoff, the Solomon Torres debacle. Oh well.
Juiced Barry now strikes me as grotesque and unnatural and I miss the Barry of old. He was slender and powerful and fast. He fucked up in the playoffs. He made amazing catches in the field. That was when I could still remember in a visceral way what it was like to get in a groove for a few weeks and hit nothing but liners, shots, to all fields.
That was when: I had been married only once and never divorced. Writing wasn't something I used to do, gone forever. On my mountain bike, I went up and down terrain I now can't imagine even trying to ride.
It was never easy loving Barry, but it could be done. The concessions one had to make were not dishonorable. He was brilliant and not-perfect. Life sort of felt that way. I'm not saying I was innocent, but I didn't know, then, how cold abandonment could be.
I wish Barry could have known that it was all enough. People always think there's something wrong. They wreck things in pursuit of -- what? I still don't know. All I know is they wreck things. People always wreck things and hurt people. And then all they wish for is the one thing that's impossible, that they could turn back the clock.
*Just double-checked this memory, and found it to be faulty: Barry had two homers and a double that night, going 3-for-3 and knocking in 7 runs.
Been thinking a lot about the Barry-steroids story. I have opinions on the matter but haven't been sure what to write, as those opinions are sprawling and probably not very interesting. So I'll just share the initial emotion the story stirred in me, which I quickly typed up in an email to my friend Dan:
I'll never forget 1993 ('93, right?) when I went on a weekend solo mountain biking/camping venture in the mountains of Modoc County and, with a little transistor radio in my tent, listened to Barry hit three* homers at Dodger Stadium on the third-to-last day of the season to keep the Giants alive for one more day. Alone in the wilderness, I hollered and cheered until I cried. That was Friday. Saturday, another Giants win. Still alive. On Sunday, a victory from a playoff, the Solomon Torres debacle. Oh well.
Juiced Barry now strikes me as grotesque and unnatural and I miss the Barry of old. He was slender and powerful and fast. He fucked up in the playoffs. He made amazing catches in the field. That was when I could still remember in a visceral way what it was like to get in a groove for a few weeks and hit nothing but liners, shots, to all fields.
That was when: I had been married only once and never divorced. Writing wasn't something I used to do, gone forever. On my mountain bike, I went up and down terrain I now can't imagine even trying to ride.
It was never easy loving Barry, but it could be done. The concessions one had to make were not dishonorable. He was brilliant and not-perfect. Life sort of felt that way. I'm not saying I was innocent, but I didn't know, then, how cold abandonment could be.
I wish Barry could have known that it was all enough. People always think there's something wrong. They wreck things in pursuit of -- what? I still don't know. All I know is they wreck things. People always wreck things and hurt people. And then all they wish for is the one thing that's impossible, that they could turn back the clock.
*Just double-checked this memory, and found it to be faulty: Barry had two homers and a double that night, going 3-for-3 and knocking in 7 runs.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
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