Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Dating a Cyclist #1
What's the most shallow reason to be with someone? For their looks? For their money? Because they have cool friends? Because their pedal stroke is just soooooo smooth and sexy?
If you think about it, when you're riding behind someone in a peleton, there are only three things you can judge: (1) the size of the derriere (2) the type of bike and clothes (3) the quality of bike handling and pedal stroke. Height is definitely difficult to pinpoint. I know I'm not the only girl who's had this experience: you're riding along next to a cute guy, having a great conversation, and you're thinking: "this guy is really cute, and we're having a great conversation." You wonder if he has a girlfriend and, if not, the guts to ask you out. You round a corner, pull into the convenient store, get off your bike, and accidentally bump into this very same guy because you were looking right over the top of his head. Height is definitely out.
But the quality of the pedal stroke tells you something. It tells you how good he is at cycling. If it's smooth, he's good; If he understands finesse on the bike, it might carry over to finesse off the bike.
Alright here it goes:
I was home in Orlando after nationals. I was pretty burnt-out, so I decided to take the "do whatever I feel like doing" approach to training. I did one of the local group rides, and ended up behind this guy who had the most fluid pedal stroke I've ever seen. Before I knew it, I was going on all the group rides just so I could sit on his wheel and drool (yes, I'm a nerd). Did he ever notice how I followed him around the peleton? But it was more than that. When I was on his wheel, I felt like nothing bad could ever happen to me. The fluidity was calming. I was safe.
It wasn't long before he asked me out on a date. With a pedal stroke like that, how could I say no? He picked me up at my house, and we went out for dinner. First impression: his car definitely wasn't as sexy as his bike. With regular clothes on, I almost didn't recognize him. Was this really the same guy? Walking was an awkward task for him, like he didn't know what to do with his feet when they weren't attached to pedals.
We went to a fairly nice place with dim lights and a nice wine list. We talked, but we didn't have much in common outside of cycling. I spent the majority of the evening trying to figure out if he shaved his head just to shave it or to cover up the early onset of male pattern baldness. The lights were dim and I'd only ever seen him with a helmet on.
We went out twice and, needless to say, nothing ever came of it. Actually, he turned out to be kinda creepy. Even so, I'll never forget his pedal stroke. So, tip to the guys: if you wanna score points with a female cyclist (or me, at least), work on your one-legged drills.
If you think about it, when you're riding behind someone in a peleton, there are only three things you can judge: (1) the size of the derriere (2) the type of bike and clothes (3) the quality of bike handling and pedal stroke. Height is definitely difficult to pinpoint. I know I'm not the only girl who's had this experience: you're riding along next to a cute guy, having a great conversation, and you're thinking: "this guy is really cute, and we're having a great conversation." You wonder if he has a girlfriend and, if not, the guts to ask you out. You round a corner, pull into the convenient store, get off your bike, and accidentally bump into this very same guy because you were looking right over the top of his head. Height is definitely out.
But the quality of the pedal stroke tells you something. It tells you how good he is at cycling. If it's smooth, he's good; If he understands finesse on the bike, it might carry over to finesse off the bike.
Alright here it goes:
I was home in Orlando after nationals. I was pretty burnt-out, so I decided to take the "do whatever I feel like doing" approach to training. I did one of the local group rides, and ended up behind this guy who had the most fluid pedal stroke I've ever seen. Before I knew it, I was going on all the group rides just so I could sit on his wheel and drool (yes, I'm a nerd). Did he ever notice how I followed him around the peleton? But it was more than that. When I was on his wheel, I felt like nothing bad could ever happen to me. The fluidity was calming. I was safe.
It wasn't long before he asked me out on a date. With a pedal stroke like that, how could I say no? He picked me up at my house, and we went out for dinner. First impression: his car definitely wasn't as sexy as his bike. With regular clothes on, I almost didn't recognize him. Was this really the same guy? Walking was an awkward task for him, like he didn't know what to do with his feet when they weren't attached to pedals.
We went to a fairly nice place with dim lights and a nice wine list. We talked, but we didn't have much in common outside of cycling. I spent the majority of the evening trying to figure out if he shaved his head just to shave it or to cover up the early onset of male pattern baldness. The lights were dim and I'd only ever seen him with a helmet on.
We went out twice and, needless to say, nothing ever came of it. Actually, he turned out to be kinda creepy. Even so, I'll never forget his pedal stroke. So, tip to the guys: if you wanna score points with a female cyclist (or me, at least), work on your one-legged drills.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Training down South
I had a pretty frightening experience on my bike yesterday. I guess I need to start by telling you that one of my goals this training season is to find all the dirt roads in Gainesville and ride them. They're a good change of pace, and they make the time go by faster. I went on Google maps, found a road I hadn't been on before, and I decided I would try to find it. I was doing a 3-hour ride that day, so I thought it would be perfect for passing the time.
I rode about 17 miles outside of town and found a road that was approximately in the same place where this road was supposed to be. It was a really rural area with no street signs, so there was no telling if it was the right road or not. I hesitated for a second, but I was feeling adventurous, so I rode off the pavement.
Everything went great for the first couple miles. I was cycling through the beautiful woods, and I didn't have to worry about cars. Then, I turned a bend and the road got really sandy really fast. My bike was fishtailing all over the place. At one point, I almost crashed, but I unclipped and saved myself. I walked my bike for a bit. Before I got back on, I paused for a second and looked around. That's when I realized how ALONE I was. It looked like this in every direction:
Alone in the middle of nowhere Florida. And, of course, that's when all the scary stories about people getting killed in the woods started to come back to me. I remembered this particular one that Jason told me about a serial killer near his house in New England who duct tapped women to trees. An image of the pepper spray I had forgotten, sitting on my desk at home, flashed through my mind. Goshdarnit. Should I turn back or keep going? I checked my cell phone - no service. Was this even the right road? Maybe the it gets better around the next bend. I'm going to die out here.
I frantically got back on my bike and started riding again. I came to a fork in the road that I didn't remember seeing on the map. I took the left fork because it felt like the right one. As I was riding along, I kept saying under my breath "I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die." It set a tempo that kept me going.
I heard several big noises in the woods and pictured a Florida panther tackling me like they do deer on nature shows. Would a panther mistake me as a deer? When I'm on my bike, I'm about the same height/same speed as a deer. When I hit the sandy spots and swerve, I probably look like a sick deer, perfect prey. There was a ditch full of water by the side of the road. What if there was an alligator? Do black mambas live in the Southeast U.S.?
I kept riding and looking over my shoulder, expecting to see a pickup truck full of men with no morals quickly closing the distance between us. I ended up riding down this dirt road for half an hour with no other signs of human life aside from the road itself and a couple 'private property keep out' signs. Eventually, the sand turned to packed dirt, which turned into gravel again, and I popped out somewhere on the Hawthorne trail. I WAS ALIVE! haha. Never been happier to see the trail before.
I really need a training partner.
I rode about 17 miles outside of town and found a road that was approximately in the same place where this road was supposed to be. It was a really rural area with no street signs, so there was no telling if it was the right road or not. I hesitated for a second, but I was feeling adventurous, so I rode off the pavement.
Everything went great for the first couple miles. I was cycling through the beautiful woods, and I didn't have to worry about cars. Then, I turned a bend and the road got really sandy really fast. My bike was fishtailing all over the place. At one point, I almost crashed, but I unclipped and saved myself. I walked my bike for a bit. Before I got back on, I paused for a second and looked around. That's when I realized how ALONE I was. It looked like this in every direction:
Alone in the middle of nowhere Florida. And, of course, that's when all the scary stories about people getting killed in the woods started to come back to me. I remembered this particular one that Jason told me about a serial killer near his house in New England who duct tapped women to trees. An image of the pepper spray I had forgotten, sitting on my desk at home, flashed through my mind. Goshdarnit. Should I turn back or keep going? I checked my cell phone - no service. Was this even the right road? Maybe the it gets better around the next bend. I'm going to die out here.
I frantically got back on my bike and started riding again. I came to a fork in the road that I didn't remember seeing on the map. I took the left fork because it felt like the right one. As I was riding along, I kept saying under my breath "I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die." It set a tempo that kept me going.
I heard several big noises in the woods and pictured a Florida panther tackling me like they do deer on nature shows. Would a panther mistake me as a deer? When I'm on my bike, I'm about the same height/same speed as a deer. When I hit the sandy spots and swerve, I probably look like a sick deer, perfect prey. There was a ditch full of water by the side of the road. What if there was an alligator? Do black mambas live in the Southeast U.S.?
I kept riding and looking over my shoulder, expecting to see a pickup truck full of men with no morals quickly closing the distance between us. I ended up riding down this dirt road for half an hour with no other signs of human life aside from the road itself and a couple 'private property keep out' signs. Eventually, the sand turned to packed dirt, which turned into gravel again, and I popped out somewhere on the Hawthorne trail. I WAS ALIVE! haha. Never been happier to see the trail before.
I really need a training partner.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
School, Cycling, Other Things
I'm reading The Magician's Assistant by Ann Patchett. Now I want a pet rabbit. I've been thinking a lot about how superior rabbits are to other pets, especially when I'm sitting in my Fluid Mechanics class and the professor starts talking about conservation of mass, and I begin wondering about magicians making things appear out of black top hats... that brings me to the rabbit. The rabbit's name is Rabbit. It would be all white and fluffy, and it would hop around all cute-like, and it wouldn't smell or scratch me. A lot more satisfying than a fish.
Then I picture fish swimming through the pipes that the professor is drawing on the board. I stare at the pipes for a second before I realize I'm supposed to be paying attention.
This semester, I'm taking Circuits, Fluid Mechanics, Mechanics of Materials, Intermediate Engineering Analysis (IEA), and Circuits lab. 14 credits. I've decided that I'm going to be super efficient this semester, pay attention in class, get everything done a week early, and never be stressed out. haha...I make myself laugh.
After the group ride on Tuesday, I came home, ate, showered, and the propped my legs up against the wall with the Fluids book on my chest, all proud of the fact that I was, technically speaking, "multi-tasking." But here I am, a couple days later, sitting at my computer desk, writing in my blog because I don't have the motivation to do the circuits homework sitting in front of me.
Also, I decided I'm going to train for the 2012 Olympics. After spending time at the Olympic Training Center this summer, meeting some Olympic athletes, and watching the Olympics on TV, I can't deny they've been on my mind. Still, it was never really a goal of mine to go until now.
I was standing outside my IEA class Tuesday, when one of my friends asked me to the football game on Saturday. I said, as I almost always say, "No, I don't think I can go."
"Aw, why not? It'll be fun."
"I think I've got a lot of training."
"You can still train, the game doesn't last all day."
"Yeah, but it throws me off schedule"
"What are you training for, anyway?"
It's the end of the season, so I'm not really training for anything, just trying to keep my fitness up. I didn't know what to say because this guy didn't know much about cycling, and I didn't want to delve into the extensive explanation of the road season, and base training, and time off. So I squirmed there for a second, contemplating what to say, until this came out:
"The Olympics."
hahahhaahaha....can't back down now. And I discovered something: who's going to question your decision to train when you tell them you're training for the Olympics?
Then I picture fish swimming through the pipes that the professor is drawing on the board. I stare at the pipes for a second before I realize I'm supposed to be paying attention.
This semester, I'm taking Circuits, Fluid Mechanics, Mechanics of Materials, Intermediate Engineering Analysis (IEA), and Circuits lab. 14 credits. I've decided that I'm going to be super efficient this semester, pay attention in class, get everything done a week early, and never be stressed out. haha...I make myself laugh.
After the group ride on Tuesday, I came home, ate, showered, and the propped my legs up against the wall with the Fluids book on my chest, all proud of the fact that I was, technically speaking, "multi-tasking." But here I am, a couple days later, sitting at my computer desk, writing in my blog because I don't have the motivation to do the circuits homework sitting in front of me.
Also, I decided I'm going to train for the 2012 Olympics. After spending time at the Olympic Training Center this summer, meeting some Olympic athletes, and watching the Olympics on TV, I can't deny they've been on my mind. Still, it was never really a goal of mine to go until now.
I was standing outside my IEA class Tuesday, when one of my friends asked me to the football game on Saturday. I said, as I almost always say, "No, I don't think I can go."
"Aw, why not? It'll be fun."
"I think I've got a lot of training."
"You can still train, the game doesn't last all day."
"Yeah, but it throws me off schedule"
"What are you training for, anyway?"
It's the end of the season, so I'm not really training for anything, just trying to keep my fitness up. I didn't know what to say because this guy didn't know much about cycling, and I didn't want to delve into the extensive explanation of the road season, and base training, and time off. So I squirmed there for a second, contemplating what to say, until this came out:
"The Olympics."
hahahhaahaha....can't back down now. And I discovered something: who's going to question your decision to train when you tell them you're training for the Olympics?
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Tropical Storm Fay is NEVER ENDING!
I turned on the weather channel at one point, and then turned it off. I watched long enough learn from all-too-concerned-weather-blonde that if I had any questions or concerns about what to do during this thunder storm, I could call a 1-800 number.
This is me enjoying the weather with my father:
This is me enjoying the weather with my father:
We were also told to watch out for
(1) Flooding (obvious)
(2) Alligators (kinda legitimate)
(3) Snakes (also kinda legitimate)
(4) Catfish?
(5) and Mold
Yeah, they're stretching it a little far there.
Meanwhile, I've been stuck inside with my bicycle. I'm getting restless.
Monday, August 18, 2008
National Eating (and cycling) Championships
Might as well enjoy myself while I'm here! California lived up to my highest expectations. Huge thanks to my host family: John and Marica. They were amazing.
John grilling shrimp and sausage at the neighborhood cookout.
Not getting any skinnier here...
John and Marica took Kacey and me to the ballet!
Pictures courtesy of Kacey Manderfield!
John grilling shrimp and sausage at the neighborhood cookout.
Not getting any skinnier here...
John and Marica took Kacey and me to the ballet!
Pictures courtesy of Kacey Manderfield!
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