the red pill

I love gadgets. 

I want to know how fast I am going.  I want to know how many watts are being transferred into motion.  I want to know how far I went.  I want to know how many feet that I rolled up.  Give me an overlay of my GPS waypoints on a topo map.  I want to be able to tell you what my cadence was.  I want to put it all into a computer and see it on pretty pie charts, bar graphs, numbers, decimal points, calendars.  I want it now give it to me caffeinated and in HD.

Could I turn it all off?  Could I do it all without having a number, a dot with a line, or a colored piece of pie?  Could I unplug, take the tech out of my life?  How would I ever quantify, calculate, nurmerate?  How can I even breathe without knowing how many calories I am burning to sustain life?  Was that 144 or 145bpm?  Did I gain weight? Is it water? Is it muscle? Don't tell me it's FAT!!

I love I'm addicted to gadgets.

I don't want all of this in my life, I need all of this.  I know, I know it's a sickness.  I've taken something as pure as bicycle and turned it into a wheeled iPod with more computing power than the first Mercury Missions.  I am guilty, I'm a sinner in the Church of the Purists.  I've eaten from the forbidden fruit and my eyes are open, open to technology and wanting to know.  Wanting to know everything, every number, every equation, every solution.  Give me the answers, yesterday.

I have to know.  I have to know, so that I can change anything and everything to just get faster.  I ride, to work harder, to get faster, to ride longer, to work harder, to get faster, to work harder, to ride longer...

Radio Free Europe

You probably gathered by now that I like R.E.M.  I do, but do you know what I really like?  Listening to the radio, and finding new music -music that I have to listen to again.  I hate the radio stations here in Tulsa.  Tulsa is supposed to be a kind of hotbed for music.  No hotbed here that I can see, unless you count that we do get some big headliners: Lady Gaga.  If you have tickets to that (and you spent your own money) you can stop reading now, this will be of no interest to you.

I really think there is one person that programs every station in Tulsa.  We did get a "Retro" station a year ago and it was cool, until all the other stations changed their programming to suit, the songs were new -for awhile.  Crap, now even their playslists are played.  This brings us to the point where I bash and rehash my disdain for Tulsa radio.  Ok, I'll be positive, too much negativity in this already, no need to add more.

I went on a road trip to Texas and New Mexico between Christmas and New Years.  I loaded up the Sony Walkman MP3 player set it on shuffle and let digital magic happen.  Oh boy, did it happen, it was like listening to a radio station programed by me (kinda was), but there is a little bit of chance and randomness involved. 

I used technology all the way to the Texas State line and then turned the AUX off and the radio on.  89.9 FM 90, Amarillo's Cutting Edge.  Who would have thought?  My favorite radio station was still playing songs I wanted to listen to, and new songs that I had not heard -but wanted to listen to.  College radio in the middle of a truck-stop-town nowhere, that destroys any and all radio in Tulsa.

I grew up listening to 89.9 and I turned out alright, didn't I?  That's not the point, what is the point is the ability of a station to be everything for all of these years.  Tuning in two weeks ago was like reconnecting with a long lost friend.  We've both grown up (kind of), but we are still the same even after all of these years and the time away from each other.  At least one of us should have changed for better or worse, right?  What are the chances that we grew old together with time being the only void that needed spanning?

With a little help

MTB is, for the most part, a solitary activity/sport.  You get out in nature and ride the trails with the freedom of being solo and doing it all by yourself.  It is one of the attractive elements of the mountain bike, a self-propelled freedom vehicle that can take you to places that are remote, out of the way, and beautiful.  The mountain bike is a tool/toy that is used for solitary consumption of remote singletrack.  Mountain bikers are notorious for being self-training, self-sufficient, self-riding apparitions of the offroad two wheeled locomotion.

I personally have spent countless hours peddling a fat-tire beast up over around and down, solo.  Yes, it was by choice.  I wanted to ride my pace, my trails, my time, me me me.  No one to slow me down, no one to chase.  Selfish riding, all about me. 

There are no words that I can put down to describe what it is to ride with someone that you can push and can push you back.  It's a one-up showdown singletrack style.  Progression happens when you hear the knobbies grabbing some hard-pack in a smooth right hander a millisecond behind.  That's right, when you can feel the rider behind you without having to "look back", -that is a two handed push toward progress.

I'm lucky to have someone I can ride with that pushes me to be uncomfortable, to ride one the edge, to progress.  I do my best to return the favor.  I have been fortunate to be the lead rider on our rides (thanks to my knowledge of the trail system), otherwise it would be a different story if I were the one chasing.  I am dead after riding in the lead, I would be obliterated if I were the one chasing.

I know why mountain bikers ride alone, and for the most part I enjoy a good solo ride, but when I get to ride with an equal or someone of superior talent -it makes for an experience like no other.  Don't get me wrong.  I enjoy company of any skill level on rides.  Riding with someone else and getting to share in the experience of the ride together is what it is all about.  If I had it my way, every ride would be a shared experience.  Let me know when you want to go.

Could be worse

I'm getting ready for a mtb ride this afternoon, and a look at the weather says 32* wind chill of 23* with a 30% chance of snow flurries.  If you reside below the 32*of latitude then this is not a good day to be out and about, as for you people who reside in a more Northerly climate -it is probably a t-shirt and shorts kind of day.

Location, Location, Location.
I should be counting my lucky stars that I am actually getting outside and not having to shovel 26" of snow to do so.  Sure we all want nice sunny days to throw a leg over the saddle and get some miles and hours of freedom.  I would prefer to sit on the couch and watch episodes of syndicated nothingness until I want to buy everything that is advertised, and I really do think that Depends would be a great way to watch more TV.  I digress, I have decided to brave the elements along with a couple of guys that for some reason want to take the "hard-man" approach to doing this thing that we like to do. 

I am going to get "suited up" to go ride.  I will, when I get back -through the magic of time travel, let you know how my little jaunt was.  If I survived, had fun, was miserable, so stay tuned.  As my sister says "ciao for now".

I'm back, showered up, recovering, at least as good as I can be right now.  I put in a hard day on the mtb yesterday, and then followed that up today with a real roaster.  I'll write about that later.  Anyway, the weather was really not much of a deterrent, well it was livable.  The digits were a little cold and had to stop a couple of times to bring them back to life.  You kind of need them to put the brakes on, the toes were cold, but not frozen -at least I thought.  When I got in the shower I realized that my big toes were in fact frozen, nothing a little hot water couldn't fix.

Conclusion:
It is great to be able to get out with friends and ride, even if the thermometers say it is FREEZING outside.

You're gonna' go blind doing...

"Self improvement is masturbation, now self destruction..." -Tyler Durden,  Fight Club

Riding, Racing, Training can be considered self improvement, but to really ride, race and train there has to be an element of self destruction.  Let's call it self improvement through self destruction.  This attitude of self destruction is not always realized, maybe not even recognized to the untrained eye.  But it is there. 

When was the last time you turned yourself inside out trying to stay with someone on a ride who is better than you?  You know that feeling when your legs turn to molten lead, start to seize up, and you are no longer able to even pedal squares?  Ever throw up in your mouth trying to bridge a gap, or taking a pull to keep the break, away?

We destroy our bodies, we break down muscle fibers, we endure broken bones and roadrash.  We do this in the hope that we will come back fitter, stronger, faster.  Call it what it is, but don't try and fool yourself into thinking that you are being "good" to your body. 

Take a look at Andy with his shirt off -is that self improvement?

Photo: Andy via his TweetPhoto Stream

Riding with Ghosts

Palo Duro Canyon is the site of a massacre of women, children and horses.  I don't have any reference or historical backing to this, except for what I have heard over the years living in the area.  I am too lazy to look up any facts right now, so for the unsubstantiated rumor:  the Indian fighters waited for the men/braves/warriors to leave the women and children alone, and once alone... well you get the picture.  It is said that you can hear horses at night in the canyon.  People on hikes have heard people talking (mostly women and children's voices) (not in English).  Scary stuff right?  Anyway if you are interested look it up.

I went on a solo road trip to PDC to ride mountain bikes and I encountered ghosts.  Ghosts of my past, and of my past "self".  There is something powerful about being in a place that you have history, history all around, around every corner, over every hill. My parents brought me to PDC before I can remember. We would come down after church for lunch and stay until we would have to go back for church that night. I spent many hours exploring, hiking, and playing. These ghosts flow in and out passing through me when I see the picnic grounds, the old slide and playground. There on the right is the creek we used to wade in. There is the small knol that was used as a fort for capture the flag.

Driving down into the canyon one of the first landmarks is the amphitheater where they have the musical Texas. I can see the people dancing and singing, and all those Texas flags blowing in the ample Panhandle plains wind. I remember some of the friends and family that we would take with us to the play. We once saw a cougar walking on the foothills behind the actors on the stage during a performance.  Bits and pieces of memory come to me as if changing channels in my brain, not staying on one long enough before the next one and then another.

Here is the area where the Sad Monkey Scenic Railroad once ran it's tiny train. My grandmother would buy me some soft serve and a ticket. I would try to finish the ice cream before the summer heat laid it to rest at my feet dripping down my forearms. We would sit on the picnic tables waiting for the train to come into the station for our turn to ride around, see the sights and hear the stories of the conductor.

Fast forward a few years and I'm with the high school marching band on a Saturday afternoon chasing girls (no, really chasing girls).  Going on misadventures with testosterone charged teenage boys looking for thrills and adrenalin.  We tried our hand at caving and when we got far enough in and had no flashlight, we opted for rock climbing.  The whole time trying to impress the lovely girls in the band.  It is a surprise that no one was killed, maimed, injured or arrested.  Oh, someone broke a finger playing Frisbee with the lid to a 5 gallon bucket.  Frisbee, football, and other activities were outlawed shortly thereafter by the band director.

I've spent hours and hours in this canyon, lunches, meals, picnics and several breakfasts.  The memories that are in these walls of the canyon, in the small streams, rocks and trees that I have compiled over the years.  Some more recent than others.  Some more prominent like the "romantic" make-out sessions watching the sunset over the rim of the canyon. Oh, the brilliance of a amorous teenage boy.  Then there are the memories that I can't remember like that time...

New Years Revolutions

Resolution is a weak word, why would you resolve to do something?  Now Revolution, that's something you can sink your teeth into.  Resolve is what you want to do, Revolution is action.  You could resolve in this new year or you could create a self-revolution.  I don't believe in making a Resolution to do something.  I'm going to work out, I'm going to stop sniffing glue, I'm going to arbitrarily change my life.

I want to create a Revolution for my life, not just this year but a change for life.  I have written about motivational problems, my issues of motivating to do something productive.  I want to make my life more productive, and it starts with TV.  I watch too much TV.  I am addicted, turn it on and my brain is turned off and then the body shuts down.  I become a slug, a parasite of visual and auditory mind numbing entertainment.  Calling it entertainment is a stretch, it is plain and simple time killing.  Turn on tune in for a self lobotomy.  The TV is on right now as I type this, I can't turn it off.  I need accountability.  I need a village to help me get off of TV.

I have no excuse to not do something positive with my life each and everyday.  I have a good life, I have all my faculties.  The only issue that I have, is motivation.  I am easily swayed from being active, or constructive.  How do I change my lifestyle to become a more motivated positive member of society?  I am not looking for some Dr. Phil/Oprah answer.  I need a nuts and bolts surefire way to get off my lazy nonconstructive bum and get something done.  -Each and Every Day.  Is that too much to ask for.

Make a Revolution in your life, I am trying to make one in mine.  If you need help ask for it, I am asking for help.  Help me be a better person, a more positive, constructive entity in life.  Be a true friend and call me out when I am being less than positive, you would let me know if I had a booger, wouldn't you?  Wouldn't you?