poaching, sweetness, snowflakes: a fairytale (in bed)

Do you remember that cultural artifact from a few years back of the adding the phrase “in bed” to your fortune cookie made it funny? Me neither.

Turns out you can add it to just about any phrase and it gets funnier. Not like haha funny. But if you’re easily amused (and I am) and bored… Oh yeah, I think Mad Libs are fun too. What can I say? I’m too square to be hip, too hip to be square.

Or maybe I’m just suffering from bacon withdrawals.
. . . . .

Heading up Thurman to Forest Park

ACT 1: RIDE LIKE ROCK STARS (in bed)
As soon as the forecasts seemed to be true I posted the invite: Forest Park Snow Ride ‘08. There wasn’t as much snow as forecast Sunday morning, but by the time we rolled out at noon, there was about an inch that was sticking. By the time we rode up to the Leif Erickson trail gate, we found we’d climbed up to about 2″. And at the top of Saltzmann we found about 5-6 inches! Dan the Man Sharp captured some fine images and a couple of quick videos. Good times.

Thirteen friends, new and old, made their way across town for this ride. The route we did is one of the most mundane, forgettable rides in the area, often used as a training ride for shorter off-road intervals. Toss in some snow and suddenly the mundane becomes epic! Firelane 5 was a hoot. I’ve never heard so much ruckus on a group ride, as people were half riding, half-sledding down the hill. Janky was uncooperative and angry with me (as usual), but I love snow rides too much to pass it up. And thirteen riders is a good sized posse given any conditions.

Aprés ride, we warmed ourselves with beer, food and a woodburning stove at McMenamins. Peeling off layers of cold, wet clothing desperate for warmth, we shared tater tots and laughs and forged new friendships around the fire. The wait staff complained about us turning the place into ‘base camp’, but it’s not like they were turning away customers with half the city being shut down and staying inside due to icy conditions. ore pictures as I get links.

. . . . .

Speaking of rock stars, when I confided very excitedly about my conversion to singlespeed-ism with the new Titus, Stevil Kinevil offered this advice: Never commit to single speeding. Its like an emotionally and physically abusive relationship where the sex is really great.

Well, then. That may be true of dedicated singlespeeders. But you see, I’m commitment-phobic. I like to keep my options open. And the nice thing about this particular bike is the dropouts are interchangeable so I can run it geared or singlespeed. Viola! No need to commit! Which means (using the former example) I get to have really great sex, but in an emotionally and physically healthy environment! Sweet!

Now then…

. . . . .

ACT 2: CUPCAKES (in bed)
Yesterday was National Cupcake Day. No, I am not making this shit up. I had planned to go to Saint Cupcake to celebrate and gets dozens of cupcakes to share throughout the day with students and friends I knew I’d see. The weather was uncooperative. I didn’t really feel like riding on ice. So I stayed home in the morning, baking and later drove over to the rock gym to climb for a couple hours. Of course, my flake covered flaky climbing partner with flake filling flaked again. Bad Belay Slave! No Cupcake!

After bouldering for about as long as I could stand it, I started delivering cupcakes. There was the friend who cried to me that broke up with her boyfriend. Another friend who just lost his job. A girlfriend who’s had that bitch of a mancold going around. The bike shop. The studio staff who had to go in and work a phenomenally slow and boring day. The guys at the rock gym who refused to give me a belay even though I came bearing cupcakes Then Sadie, and Ms Super Relax, and Mr Sharp…

Cupcake Faerie Delivers

. . . . .

A few months back my guru told me I was in sore need of more sweetness in my life. A few weeks later the woman I occasionally get craniosacral work from tells me do whatever brings you joy and do lots of it. This was about the time when I head to Breitenbush for the yoga retreat I lead annually. Last year I met a guy who lived there and worked as a carpenter who told me do what you love for the people who love what you do.

These things are all interrelated to me, as when I do what I do, which I love, I have both more sweetness and joy on so many levels. First off I love my work. I have a fantastic ‘job’ helping other people feel good, look better, perform better, be happier–whatever it is they want to do. And I have time (usually) to do the other things that bring me joy, like riding bikes.

Lately I’ve been a bit busier, trying to launch the yoga project as it begins to gel in my mind, but I still have time to ride… Some. Forget training. There is no time for training. Training for what? My hip has been so, so painful, so unhappy… Three times in the past week I’ve been visiting friends for dinner or lunch and had to excuse myself to get up from the table, start walking about, stretch my hip flexor, so anything to relieve the painful spasms. I am an odd dinner companion. (I know, and it’s not just because of Janky, thanks.)

I’m pretty tired of “adapting” and putting a good face on it. I’m getting new treatments from Seth Hosmer, whose starting a new therapy with me. If this doesn’t work, maybe prolotherapy is next. Maybe cortisone? I’m desperate. How can I sit on a flight to India later this winter like this? If I can’t sit for 24 minutes without pain, how will I manage 24 hours?

So yeah. Sweetness. Cupcakes. Snow. These things don’t make everything alright, but it sure doesn’t hurt as much, in a way.

Go ahead… You know you’re going to go there. Say it! In bed.

Um… Has anyone seen my pants?

The time of the cowbell has come to an end in Portland. For now. For another 9 months. Whole star systems will be born and die again before the next Alpenrose Cross Clinic starts up. The hangovers from this years Crusade awards party will barely have begun to fade by then, according to several reports I’ve heard. Deny it all you want but the local cowbell season has ended, kiddos.

It concluded with the final two races of the USGP at PIR. And then the Cross Crusade Awards Party. Gentle Lovers organized the party, themed “What do you believe in?” Of course, the word of the theme came a whopping 48 hours before the party, which left, well… ZERO hours to actually costume appropriately. So I decided to skip it. I just wasn’t feeling it. I instead went rock climbing at PRG for a couple hours, had a great session, and on the way home passed the venue. So I thought: One beer.

So there I was… with somewhere to go, but not all dressed up. In fact, I was dressed like a schlubby hippie just come in from the goji berry farm–puffy down coat with fur trim and giant muckluks with furry trim, baggy paiinter’s pants and a tee-shirt. Gründelbrüiser buddy GR hooked me up with a sweet tee-shirt for a friend, but it was GINORMOUS. Someone commented it fit me like a dress, which was true, so I ditched the pants and pranced around in my bare legs and furry mucklucks. I was sober, quite sober. EP was right: even the most ridiculous costume can bring out the devil…

The eyebrows started raising.

“What are you supposed to be?” they inquired.

I replied simply that as a card-carrying (but lapsed) Buddhist I believed in nothing. That pretty much shut it down.

Actually it’s not true. For example, I believe in snow… So, for the first time in many years I get a pass to Meadows and there’s still no snow. The past couple years of XC skiing and snowshoeing left me hungry for more backcountry, so AT gear in hand I wait… and wait… and wait… This weekend it’s expected to dump so maybe I’ll be shralpin’ the gnarly powpow by Saturday (insert smiley face).

If not, well… I guess I get to practice not getting attached to my beliefs.

Again.

To wrap up the party recap, I’ll just add my favorite costume was Brent C’s “heart on my sleeve” costume. There was a trail of tiny red felt hearts with fortunes… I followed the trail to its person, until I got shoved over to the unicorn by Super Relax leader Sholty, whom I proceded to toss around like a sack of all-that-and-a-bag-of-potato-chips.

. . . . .

IN THE MEANTIME, I figured I might as well keep riding. Not really into road riding right now–too hard to climb on the bike still. So I decided to sell the cross bikes and instead go with another 29er… a hardtail that can easily suffice as a cx bike next year, if I race at all. It’s a super sweet bike! Dropouts that can be switched to ride it as either a singlespeed or geared bike. It’s a SS now, I’m starting with a 32/18 but I think I need a little bit easier gear for these hills. It’s all part of the hip rehabilitation plan–singlespeed gives me the blissful opportunity to simply focus on pedal stroke and work on handling skills. I like! Janky Hip likes to stand up more (hip flexors hurt less, then) but it’s harder on the cardiovascular system. Rode for almost 3 hours today and felt the knees a bit more which makes me think maybe throw a 20 on there until I get my SS knees and legs.

. . . . .

Random video warning:

done

And Ladies… Did you know the search for Mr. Right is completely and utterly misdirected. You should be looking for Mr. Pizza! He knows how to please the women, he CARES and he Loves the Women.

(from engrishfunny.com, photocredit: marie senn)

. . . . .

Lastly, I’m still doing my part to encourage women cyclists. Took Laura friend to the USGP race on Sunday to watch the women’s and other morning races. Laura is curious about cycling, and enjoying buzzing around on my old LavaDome. Maybe she’ll race next year after attending a few clinics. I asked her what her favorite parts of the race were, and here’s what she had to say (posted with permission).

Laura’s Bike Race Comments
Bike races were like a great, muddy carnival, but with self powered rides and attended by superheros wearing only their underwear. Or like a superhero gypsy camp on carnival day. I liked many things about it. Here are some of them:

1. There were things cooking in tins over open flames– chocolate things.
2. There were tents with heaters. Cozy!
3. Many people were wearing costumes made out of unitards. Some people had tomatoes on their unitard costumes. Some people’s costumes were pink and said “Gentle Lover”. Very nice!
4. Mud! I like mud. It felt rugged and expansive there because of the mud and the trees and the people going fast. Maybe that’s more than one thing…
5. People trying hard. I like how it feels to be around people who are sincerely trying hard to do something. It rips all the frills away and there’s just them and their little ball of sincere energy. It’s very easy to love a person who is trying hard, I think. Even if you don’t know them.
6. Fear. Some things looked pretty scary, which was enjoyable. I like fear in small sips. Just enough fear to make you glad you’re going to be okay. Maybe it would be too much fear if I was actually on a bike…
7. Fried food!!!!!
8. Cow bells. They are so enthusiastic without being shrill. They feel resonant and empathetic and helpful. It feels like, by ringing them, you might actually be effecting a flood of tiny sonar waves that will surf people along towards their goal. Or something. Maybe just a nice sound…
9. I think I saw someone with Bailey’s
10. The little girl with the glasses and ponytail. Ride little girl! Ride!!!

That about catches us up, I think. Oh, but if you see my pants… Last I remember they were somewhere over by the unicorn.

Yup. Still riding. Sort of.

I’ve been busy. Working too much. Starting up the bike yoga classes, teaching teachers, doing yoga psychology workshops… Not much time to ride. But I’m still getting out a couple times a week, and Haven’t missed a Sunday in Church of Bike yet, despite my heathen ways and flagging spirits.

This weekend hit a new trail: Falls Creek in Southwest Washington, near Carson, with these guys

Chainsaw and Prause

Did a little of this on some fine, fine trails

...and the light came streaming through the temple

But Janky Hip was unhappy. About 4 miles in (climbing, of course) I got tired of dealing with the pain again, so I bailed, told the guys to go on and I went back to the parking lot to do some yoga. SMART! Janky was very happy to be done riding, and the yoga, though rudimentary felt fine. I’m playing with some video clips to add to my website, and had my digital camera, so I let it run while I did a bit of practice. This, my friends, would be the warmup.

I’m fortunate to have the skill and tools to deal with Janky, but it’s still incredibly frustrating and sometimes downright depressing. I sometimes wonder if I will have to give up the work I love so well, because I will get tired of hurting so much of the time. I have already changed my practice and teaching to a fairly rudimentary level to accommodate my own body’s limitations, and as such I am still an effective teacher. But I have had to relinquish any dreams of advancing my own practice–on the physical level. For me the physical practice of yoga asana has always been to create support, strength and flexibility needed to sit for extended periods, to be in seated meditation comfortably. Those days seem to be over. My week at Breitenbush was wonderful in terms of my work and what we accomplished, but Janky complained bitterly, despite several massages. Often friends tease that I get too much body work. “Rough life” they say. What they don’t know, is it’s never a “feel good luxury”. This is the only way I can get through the days sometimes. It helps. It never eradicates the pain, but it does ease it a little. Trust me… I’d happily exchange my frequent massages for a healthy, normal hip and pelvis again and be able to practice and ride like I used to. Or just sit through dinner or a movie without squirming all over like a 5 year old with ADD!

Last year when I taught at Breitenbush a wise man on the trail said to me: Do what you love for people who love what you do. I fear, sometimes I may need to find something new to love, to do, because Janky won’t ever get better and I’ll get tired of the pain and finally succumb. I’m holding out until the last possible moment, and just doing what I can do. Since I started yoga I knew it was my dharma, my calling. Giving up road racing and running is one thing, but giving up this love of mine?

Let’s think happy thoughts shall we?

Hafiz has something to add:

Ever since happiness heard your name
It has been running through the streets
Trying to find you.

And several times in the last week,
God Himself has even come to my door-
Asking me for your address!

Once I said,
“God,
I thought You knew everything.
Why are You asking me
Where Your lovers live?”

And the Beloved replied,
Indeed, Hafiz, I do know everything –
But it is fun playing dumb once in a while.
And I love intimate chat
And the warmth of your heart’s fire.

Maybe we should make this poem into a song-
I think it has potential!

How far does this refrain sound,
For I know it is a truth:

Ever since happiness heard your name,
It has been running through the streets
Trying to find you.
And several times in the last week,
God Himself has come to my door-
So sweetly asking for your address,
Wanting the beautiful warmth of your heart’s fire.

Word.