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Airplanes April 23, 2009

Posted by postalblue in Life.
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Once upon a time, I enjoyed traveling. I used to plan trips to Europe that I’d never take or spend time hunting down cheap flights that I’d never book. I loved being on the road, being somewhere new.

Then I spent two years consulting with IBM.

I’ve written about it before: four flights a week, fifty weeks a year for two years. A different hotel room every week, a different rental car every week. Single serving friends every week. IBM killed travel for me. Maybe I just spent too much time in airports, fighting or fretting over delayed flights and missed connections, but now the thought of travel makes my skin crawl.

Every time I get on a plane (even if its for a fun, Phillies-filled weekend with Sara – like this past one, which deserves a separate entry), I’m reminded of those two miserable years. I try to remember what it was like when I enjoyed going places, but it hasn’t yet come back to me. I’m sure I’ll feel the itch again some day, but for now, all I want to do is be home.

A different kind of update. April 14, 2009

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It’s been a while since I’ve written about music. I’ve actually been so busy with work and riding and general life-related things that I simply haven’t had enough time to digest many recent releases. The past month or two has produced a couple of standouts, though. 

I have been listening to the Decemberists’ new album, the Hazards of Love, on repeat since its’ release in mid-March. It is an epic record – a rock opera that begs to be listened to from start to finish. It probably won’t grab you during the first listen and maybe not even the second, but once you start to piece Colin Meloy’s tale together, you’ll be as hooked as I am.

The Hazards of Love

The Hazards of Love

I listen to Ratatat with extreme regularity, but they’ve resurfaced with a vengeance thanks to their killer performance at the Fillmore two weeks back. Their entire catalog is solid and they played everything that I wanted to hear at that show. For a second, I thought they might head off stage without playing their best track, until I heard the track’s signature sound byte come through the speakers: “I been rappin’ for about 17 years, okay..?” And with that, the crowd went nuts.  

LP3

LP3

One of my recent personal discoveries is the French band called Phoenix. They’ve got a new one out, entitled Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix and it’s incredibly solid. I’ve got a couple flights scheduled this week – maybe I’ll have time to let this one sink in a little deeper!

Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

The End April 12, 2009

Posted by postalblue in Work-related.
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Well, not really.

This morning’s ride marked the end of the grueling, six-week training block that kicked my ass back into shape after an unpleasant February filled with business trips and illness. I’ve been going pedal-to-the-metal since late February and my hard work has definitely paid off. Last weekend was the peak – my legs have been sore and begging for a break since that nasty climb up Panoramic and it was all I could do to keep them turning cranks this weekend. Fortunately, I’m ready to enjoy that well-earned rest week!

I’ll probably head out for light rides on Tuesday and Wednesday, but that’s it. Sara and I are flying to Philadelphia on Thursday for a pair of Phillies game. I won’t be back on my bike until the following Wednesday, giving my legs a full week to regenerate before the next (shorter?) cycle begins.

I won’t get in to today’s ride for a number of reasons. I did make a good countermove about a kilometer from the Tiburon sprint and held on to be the first across the “line,” so that was fun. At the end, I tacked on a trip to the headlands, where I spent a good thirty minutes on a wooden bench, enjoying the Pacific breeze, the California sun, the fantastic view and just generally decompressing.

Looking down (west) over the headlands.

Looking down (west) over the headlands.

Oh, and just in case you forgot what my bike looks like, I took another picture of it:

Awesome.

Awesome.

Now… what’s for dinner?

Tam April 12, 2009

Posted by postalblue in Cycling.
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For the first time since my very first Mission ride, the gang went up to Mt. Tamalpais’ East Peak.  We had a huge group at the snack shack – Sara included! – and set out around 9:45. The route started just like any other ride: cross the bridge, descend to Sausalito and head north on the bike path out of town. Before the end of the trail, we took a quick left and rolled through Mill Valley – and that’s where the climbing started.

The climb up to Tam isn’t terrible – not from the Sausalito side, at least. From Mill Valley, you snake up a windy, wooded back-road to an intersection called Four Corners. After regrouping, you set out from the Corners to another intersection – Pantoll.  This bit starts out rough (and steep) but levels off for a while toward the back half.  Then there’s a short segment from Pantoll to the ranger station before you continue going up and up and up to East Peak.  As if ten miles of steady climbing wasn’t hard enough, the last 300 meters up to the trailhead at the top is a dizzying 20% grade.

The gang at 2,400 feet.

The gang at 2,400 feet.

I woke up with sore legs and this climb didn’t help matters: I was feeling the burn early and often. I managed to grit my teeth and push through, but it wasn’t easy. I can’t tell you how happy I was to crest that final grade, clip out and lean my bike against a sun-warmed bench at the overlook point. The rest of the gang trickled in and we spent some time debating routes, gear, races – the usual stuff that cyclists debate. By the time I hit the top, I had 25 miles and 3,100 feet of ascent on my trusty odometer.  Good times.

There’s not much to say about the rest of the route – we just turned around to enjoy a well-earned fifteen mile descent.

Yujin on the Tam descent.

Yujin on the Tam descent.

Epic. April 6, 2009

Posted by postalblue in Cycling, San Francisco.
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The word may be overused in the cycling community, but that’s how I feel about this past week. I don’t know how many of you follow my normal twitter or my ride-only twitter, so for the rest of you, here’s the recap:

  • Monday – 18 mile headlands loop.
  • Tuesday – 5 mile run.
  • Wednesday – 40 mile paradise loop.
  • Thursday – 24 mile headlands repeats (2,700 feet of climbing).
  • Friday – OFF
  • Saturday – 87 mile Pt. Reyes, Stinson, Panoramic loop.
  • Sunday – 40 mile paradise loop, 18 mile easy spin.

The totals: 230 miles, 14,970 feet of climbing, 13,500 calories.

Highlights:

  • Logging my fastest ever solo average into Tiburon on Wednesday, then topping that with a nasty paceline on Saturday’s fake recovery ride.
  • The burn of my third trip up to the top of the headlands on Thursday morning.
  • Attacking on White’s Grade, then attacking again halfway up the second roller on the way to Nicasio – then time-trialing at 28 miles per hour the whole way to the rest stop.
  • Burritos in Dolores Park after Saturday’s ride.
  • Lunch with Sara at Trieste on Sunday – a table away from Bob Roll.
  • Collapsing from total exhaustion at 10 PM last night.

Awesome.

Bad luck, good ride. April 1, 2009

Posted by postalblue in Work-related.
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Saturday’s ride was a mixed bag. On a personal level, I had an absolute blast – I’m finally starting to feel strong on the bike again and my unfollowed accelerations along Alpine Dam served as confirmation that my form is returning. Granted, I didn’t have Mike, Buck, Dylan or Kevin to contend with… but that’s okay. I’ll take wins however I can get them.

The best part about Saturday’s ride? The weather.

Check out this view!

Check out this view!

The worst part(s)? Eugene (pictured above) and Yujin both got tickets for rolling through a stop sign… and then Eugene ate it on the descent back to Sausalito. Fortunately, he only scuffed his legs up a bit and tore his handlebar tape.  I was right behind him when he went down – and it could have been a whole lot worse.

Here’s some more of the gang from Saturday’s 60-miler!

The group rolls along Seven Sisters.

The group rolls along Seven Sisters.