If you love something you must set it free.....

I woke up last Thursday with a "Dear Don" letter on my chest.  It was written eloquently by my moustache, to tell me that it was going to go on walk about.  Perhaps someday it would return, perhaps not.  The 'Stache has always been whimsical like that.  There are some things I'll miss, then again there are things I won't.



Thats right...I said what I said and meant it.  What are you gonna do about it.....

I mean first off its just completely awesome.  I mean look at that thing.  Its beastly, and it reeks of testosterone.  My 'Stache looks like it could whip you in a fight by itself with on hand tied behind its back.  It looks like a hunting trip, and smells like freshly cut cedar and chain saw oil.  It conveyed the sense that a man sporting this thing was not to be trifled with.  The 'Stache got stares from passers by, admiration from other men, shrieks of fear from children, and the women.....well the women swooned in its very presence.




I am forced by the federal government to supply the following warning.  If you are a female between the ages of 18 and 65 the above image may cause shortness of breath, heart palpatations, dizziness, light headedness, weakness in the knees, and the vapors.  Please exercise caution when looking at it.

However the 'Stache did have its drawbacks.  Not that I would ever say anything to the 'Stache but he was a little high maintenance.  What with all the waxing, and combing to keep him in place on my lip and out of my food it took a little more time grooming than I am typically accustomed too.  Then there were times when he would try and sample my food.  A most inconvenient fact as I am not particularly fond of chewing on facial hair with my Quiznos sandwich.  Every so often he would dive in for a taste unbeknownst to me and foul my eating experience.  And finally there was the training with the 'Stache.  In case some of you didn't know the 'Stache is like a built in sweat band.  Holding on to and collecting those beads of sweat so painfully earned on runs and rides.  Unfortunately there is a thresh hold to how much sweat the 'Stache can hold.  Eventually we would pass that at some point in training and the 'Stache would unleash a tidal wave of perspiration at a most inopportune time, like when I was sucking in a deep breath.  Thereby incapacitating me as I coughed and spit, and sputtered.




Here I sit all bare lipped and melancholy...and looking 10 years younger.

I received a post card from Maui from the 'Stache saying he was enjoying himself on sabbatical.  He asked me to send his love to his legion of adoring fans and to rest assured that he would some day triumphantly return.  Until then, I suppose we just light a candle in the window and wait.  If you love something you have to set it free, and if it returns then it was meant to be.  If it doesn't, then it was one ungrateful  facial hair accessory who never appreciated all the effort you put forth in its care.

Just kidding 'Stache......come back!!!!

Best dadgum training week so far....

This week has gone really well for me.  I only took one day off, Monday.  I always take Monday off because I do my long runs on Saturday, my long rides on Sunday and well lets face it, it's Monday.

I've gotten up early 3 times this week and logged some solid running miles.  Combined the morning run on Tuesday with a bike ride that afternoon cause I forgot Tuesday was bike day.  May have to turn Tuesday in to Twos-a-day cause it felt great to get both in.  Poor pun selection I know.

Anyhow I think I may be getting the hang of the 4:40 waking up thing.  Not once did I hit the snooze, or out and out dismiss it.  I just rolled out....got moving and woke up, and was on the road by 4:50.  I like running in the early morning.  Its as cool as its going to be all day.  It is very quiet, and there aren't very many cars to have to worry about.  Plus I had my workout in and my shower done before 6:00 a.m.  All of my runs went great as I recorded negative splits over each 1/2 mile progressively which was what I was focusing on.  Its really hard to throttle back early in the run, given my impatient nature but I believe it will help in the long run as I've already seen improvement on my average pace.

I love biking.  I really do.  The fact that I can cover so much more ground.  The rush that I get hitting high speeds on downhills.  The its me vs. this hill feeling every time I start dropping gears and gnashing my teeth.  I love the suffering and sense of accomplishment that follows every hill I conquer.  I have heard of and seen people walking their bikes up some hills.  I have yet to meet that incline yet, and often wonder if there is one out there that will break me.  Only one way to find out and that's to keep putting miles under my wheels.

Got my long"ish" run tomorrow which I will grind through.  And then I plan on taking a few friends who have just recently started biking out with me on a fairly good long ride.  Something sadistic about me really wants to take them out halfway easy and then drop the hammer on them and lock them up in the pain box on the way home.  Is that wrong?

A view from the other side of the table....

This past weekend I had the opportunity to work as a volunteer at a marathon and ultra-marathon.  I use the word volunteer loosely as I was coerced by the offer of a gift card at my local triathlon shop to work their table.  It was a loop course in a local park on the trails, and it was my first opportunity to work on the volunteer side of an endurance event.  A definite new perspective, and something I would gladly do again.  After spending 4 hours working the table I came away with some things, some of which I knew and some of which I did not.

1.  Some of us stink.  Now I'm not talking your run of the mill been working out and sweating a little stink.  I mean no regard for deodorant, living in a sweatbox, gag a maggot off a gut wagon stink.  I saw several competitors repeatedly because it was a loop course.  I would see them making their way to our table and have to mentally prepare myself for the soon to be assault on my olfactory senses that was their odor.  So in all seriousness people, lets try and get some super deodorant on race day cause that was not pleasant.

2.  Hills are the devil.  Our water station was at the top of a hill on an out and back trail in the loop.  I didn't see too many runners as the day went on.  By the time they reached our table they were in either shuffle or flat out walk mode.  Cussing that hill with every step.  Seriously it was pretty evil of the RD to put a water station at the top of the hill.  This thing was pretty steep and pretty long.  The trails were open to the public during the race and a lot of bikers and runners were coming up the hill.  It was steep enough to induce granny gear on some bikes and some people were even walking their bikes up the hill.  Therefore, hills are evil incarnate.

3.  I got a fever and the only prescription is more cowbell.  We had cowbells at our station and would ring them feverishly as every runner approached.  The participants seemed to like it and made several comments as such.  I've run a few races and found it to be a little uplifting as well.  But every time they would come up the hill, we'd set to ringing and they would smile and wave at us.  Then fill up on water and sport drink and head back out to a cacophony of cowbell.

4.  People prefer the taste of lemon lime sports drink over fruit punch sport drink 2 to 1.  This was an actual study I did while working the table.  We burned through twice as many lemon lime bottles as we did fruit punch bottles.  While talking with the participants I found out the fruit punch was just too sweet.  Interesting.

5.  Sanitation people c'mon!  Several times during the race I had to block access to ice by an overzealous participant looking to stick their sweaty hands straight into the ice chest for some ice.  That is what we as volunteers are there for.  If you want some ice please let us get it for you.  We use cups, not our hands and will give you as much as you want.  Really you can have plenty, just keep your grubby meathooks out of the ice chest.

6.  Interesting cool down strategies.  Some I'd seen with the water over the head, and ice put in the running hat.  Then there were a few I hadn't seen.  Ice in the sports bra, and then one guy would get a hand full of ice on every visit and put in down the front of his shorts.  Yikes.  I mean there are just some place I don't want to be THAT cold.  I wonder if  he had a shrinkage problem after the race.  Also what if you got frostbite, and they had to amputate....I'm just saying.

7.  Everyone in this sport that I've met has been pretty nice.  Everyone expressed their thanks repeatedly for our volunteering.  Really we had the easy jobs, I mean we were sitting in the shade until you came up then we hydrate you, check you out to make sure your still cognizant of your surroundings, etc and sent you on your way while we returned to our lawn chairs in the shade.  But you are welcome and congrats.

It was really a great experience.  Four hours and two sunburned legs later I came away with a greater appreciation of both volunteers and participants in these races.  So the next time I'm out on the course I will try and keep all these lessons in mind, and definitely listen for more cowbell.

Well that was a lot easier than I thought....now what?

Well this morning I reached a goal that I had figured would take a lot longer to get to.  I broke the 220 lb. barrier.  At the end of July I tipped the scales at 260 and was started to get worried.  So through half hearted efforts I managed to shed 10 pounds by the end of December.  Then like I said before I got serious after seeing a picture of myself, taken when I wasn't aware and I realized just how fat I had gotten.  It was time to buckle down and get rid of this extra weight.

So I did just that.  I determined to take on triathlons in order to give myself something to train for.  I started a running group at my church so that I would have a group I was accountable to.  I started a simple nutrition plan and diet based solely on caloric deficit.  Everything else would be too complicated and eventually become to cumbersome to deal with on a daily basis.

Using the two pillars of diet and exercise I did in 3 months what I had initially planned to take 6 months.  I was hoping to be 220 sometime in June.  But to my surprise the weight really pealed off as I started biking, running, and eating right.  I swore off carbonated, sugar filled beverages instead having unsweet iced tea, or water.  I cut way back on my drinking, and more importantly included it in my calorie calculations.  So if I wanted to have a beer or six, then I was going to have to workout more, or eat less.

Following these simple rules I have done it.  So now what?  I'll tell you now what.  Now I'm looking to be 210 by June and maintain my weight there.  I can't remember the last time I was 210, but I'm pretty sure it was in the early 90's.  Stay tuned.  It ought to make for an interesting ride.

Team Monkey'Stache....because misery loves company.

So I convince a friend of mine to enter the world of triathlons with me.  Because, well....he's half crazy and agreed to do it, and I need the accountability factor when it comes to training.  We've both been working out since the start of the new year, but until recently he was out of town.  So we finally had the chance to get together for a little training.  Now you are all witness to the humble beginnings of the Monkey'Stache triathlon team.  He is the monkey.....and of course you all know the 'Stache.

Our first meet was for a "long" training ride.  I quoted long because if some of you reading this are serious triathletes you might roll your eyes but back off we're just getting into it.  Anyway it was a 22 mile ride that should have lasted about an hour and ten minutes or so.  I say should have, because in typical fashion nothing went quite as planned.

We meet up at the agreed upon spot.  Exchange pleasantries and off we go.  Taking off at an easy pace to shake the legs loose.  We move slowly over a few rolling hills and have a pretty good cadence going.  We're taking some back country roads to start.  Lots of nice scenery but not a lot of shoulder which will come into play later.  I get through the warm up and start to pick up the pace some to my typical training pace and notice the distance between me and my training partner starting to grow.  So I back the effort back down and get back with him.  He had been stationed in the colder climates and had been doing most of his bike work on stationary, or a trainer in his hotel room.  He was finding the inclines a little more difficult and was still learning how to gear his bike to deal with different terrain types.  No big deal really it was just going to help teach me patience and pacing.  Once he gets it figured out then we can really go for better speeds.

So we continue on these country roads and I look over my shoulder to see that he's a few yards back with a mini van sitting right on his rear wheel!  He's gesturing wildly for the guy to pass, but this guy won't budge he just sits there tailgating him.  This continues for about 2 miles before my friend finally pulls off the road and the guy flies by him.  I follow suit cause I don't want this guy on my ass and I gesture wildly too as he passes, just not the same gesture as my partner.  I don't think the driver liked it because he returned the gesture.  We gather ourselves and continue on.

We make it to the turnaround point and I'm getting excited cause now we're going to be on Interstate access roads which are much wider and better constructed.  We continue on when suddenly he asks "hey does my front tire look low".  Sure enough I glance down and notice the tell-tale bulge of a tire with a slow leak.

"Yeah it does, you have a repair kit?"

"Nope"

"Awesome, we've only got 6 or so miles left that's all"

"I know I know"

We continue on a ways more and finally have to pull over.  His tire is just about flat.

"Well you stay here and I'll getty up on back to the jeep and come back for you"

"Not much other choice"

So off I go stomping on the pedals to save the day.  4 uneventful miles and 1 wrong turn later I'm back at our start point and into my jeep.  Doesn't take me too long to get to him and get his bike loaded up, and headed back home.  We laugh at our unpreparedness.  Talk about the "next times".  And arrive back a few miles short of the goal for that day but a lot of lessons learned.

Me and the Monkey and one very flat tire.

A man's man....out with the girls.

I recently attended a father/daughter dance with my two girls Darby (9) and Logan (7).  I adore them of course, and sometimes worry about losing our connection as they grow from girls to women.  Girls are fairly easy to understand because they haven't been possessed by the spectre of female hormones yet.  As they get older though the inevitable happens and they become women.  A creature I have spent my entire life observing, studying, and trying to understand.  Like Dr. Jane Goodall I have made myself at home with one and spent time with groups of them.  To this day I am still baffled by their reasoning, communication, and inter-gender workings.

But I digress, like I said this past weekend I got some rare one on one time with the girls.  They have had this date circled in their mental calendars since the tickets were purchased weeks ago.  I was worried that they would build the event up in their heads as some sort of Cinderellian wonderland only to find the reality of the situation much more disappointing.  Regardless the day had finally arrived.

So after a morning of hustling around to get to soccer games etc. the preparations commenced.  I first treated myself to a haircut.  I realized that I'm getting older as the lady cut hair in places where it didn't belong, like eyebrows, and ears.  She offered to trim up the 'Stache too and I took umbrage with that, but just declined her offer politely.

Then it was home to hit the showers for the girls before their hair appointment.  Off we go to the salon to get all "purtied" up.  Now it has been decades (plural) since I have been to a hair salon.  Not since my mother used to drag me to them as a child while she got her hair cut.  Things have changed very little since that time, and I felt as uncomfortable today as a 36 year old man as I did when I was but a 6 year old boy.  I walked in and immediately stood out as the proverbial square peg trying to settle into a round hole.  To begin with I was a man and consequently the only man in the whole place.  Secondly these women were fashionable in their fancy dresses, knee high boots, make up, and not a hair out of place.  In contrast to me in work jeans, a t-shirt, dirty old boots, baseball cap, 5 o'clock shadow, and as always my big boy burly 'Stache.  Gone were the backdated copies of Field and Stream, Sports Illustrated, and Popular Mechanics magazine.  Instead replaced with Style, Cosmopolitan, and OK. 

I was greeted by a young raven haired lass with delicate features and porcelain skin "welcome sir, how may we help you" but I'm sure she was thinking holy smokes look at this knuckle dragging Neanderthal.  Much to her surprise I did not respond with our name and appointment time instead of with "Uggg...cut.....hair....girls".  But the girls, who had been there before, were greeted by their usual stylists in short order.  Usual stylists?  Another foreign term to me.  Where I go my usual stylist is the one who says "Next".

It was amazing to see the girls interact with the women cutting their hair.  Both of them just chatting away and giggling and laughing.  It was interesting to note that no matter what the age, women can talk with their stylists non stop.  My only interaction with whoever is cutting my hair is detailed instructions, and a brief awkward attempt at small talk that is usually cut short by a sideways glance from me intended to mean less talking, more cutting.

Haircuts complete we headed on back home to pick up the dresses, which were green, and corsages to head over to a friend of ours house to get some make up and get dressed up.  Now I'm not a big fan of makeup for the girls.  I secretly believe that there is a  secret chemical compound somewhere deep within makeup that speeds up secretion of female hormones and consequently causes girls to lose their minds and become women.  So I am looking to delay that as long as possible.  However, I was assured it would be minimal, and my girls were so excited at the thought of it so I suppose every now and then can't hurt.

I used this time to travel home and get gussied up myself.  With a shower, shave, and suit I was looking like the sharp dressed lady killer that I am.  Finished in time to realize that the time had come for me to go back over to pick up my dates.  I arrived to find them fully dressed, made up and ready for their corsages.  They looked beautiful, and I realized that they are growing up faster than I can account for despite my best efforts to the contrary.  So I put on their wrist corsages and awkwardly attached my boutonniere and we were ready for the obligatory pictures before leaving.  Some things never change.

Then it was off to take my girls to dinner at a local Mexican food restaurant.  We were seated immediately and enjoyed our meals.  We discussed important topics of the day like what the decorations would look like, who we would know there, what songs we would request and on and on.  We survived dinner without any spills, myself included, thankfully and were soon on our way to the dance.

We arrived shortly after the dance had started around 6:50.  Have you ever tried to explain the concept of "being fashionably late" to two young girls who have eagerly anticipated a dance for several weeks.  I would advise against it as I found it to be a irritatingly futile exercise in which logic and reason will never be able to trump emotion and excitement.  My two dates accompanied me up the walk and in saying this I mean the pulled me like a team of Clydesdales up to the front door.  Where we gave our tickets and finally entered the dance.

The Schertz civic center which is usually a drab utilitarian multi purpose space had been transformed into an underwater kingdom.  Through the miracle of balloons, crepe paper, taffeta, and dim lighting this once bland building was now alive and teaming in concurrence with the themes of the deep blue sea.  A large dance floor directly ahead through a balloon arch was teaming with several young ladies and their father's.  Around the room were tables and chairs for exhausted attendees to rest their weary soles.  Refreshments were in abundance and taken advantage of by one and all.  We soon found a table of familiars and claimed a space.

We spent the rest of the evening dancing, eating, drinking, standing in line for pictures, and generally enjoying the pleasure of each others company.  As it turns out this dance was not to much different then any other dance you might attend.  The dance floor was packed with girls dancing while most of the men could be found along the walls or in corners talking amongst themselves.  That is until their dates drug them by the hand out to the dance floor where many a "comical" dance move ensued.

As we were leaving the girls were still abuzz with excitement about all they had seen, and heard, and done.  They gushed about the decorations, lauded the refreshments, and discussed musical selections to no end.  They asked, and in fact pleaded to be taken back next year.  But I'm not easy date so I played coy, and was hard to get for a while but in the end relented and agreed we should do it again next year.  In fact I took it one step further and asked them to accompany me to a dance like this once a year until the graduated high school and they quickly said yes to, even when they get older and I'm not cool.  So if you need me on a given weekend in March for something on Saturday evening don't be surprised if I telly you "I'm sorry to tell you but I can't.....I've got a date."

Spring has sprung and its time to get moving...

IT'S SPRING TIME IN TEXAS BABY!!!!  Bluebonnets are blooming and plants are coming to life.  The air is most definitely getting warmer and excuses are melting away like winter snows.  Not that I ever get any snow this far south in Texas.

I saw this on a training ride yesterday.  A ride, by the way, that I set a new best for average speed over any kind of significant distance.  I had just passed through the corner pictured above and was reminded of some of the shots I see while watching the Tour de France.  It was too good to pass up so I stopped to smell the roses so to speak.  Parked my bike and took a picture.

Too often these days I take things like this for granted.  Thanks to a re-dedication in training I've had a lot more opportunities to enjoy what is out there.  The wildflowers blooming and their fragrant smells, the sound of frogs chirping or a babbling brook, a hawk in the wind on the hunt, or even the silence of the early mornings broken only by the rhythm of footfalls and breathing.

Time to start taking advantage of the great weather with early morning runs, and afternoon rides.  Before you know it swimming pools will be warm enough and even some open water swims.  It's a small window to enjoy because soon summer will be set upon me and my enjoyment of the weather will decrease exponentially.  Oppressive south Texas summers are on the way boys and girls.  Good for race preparation but terrible while you're actually training.  So get out there, and do it quickly because springs in Texas don't last long.