Okay, I admit it, I punted this morning. Not happy with how my lecture outline was coming together, I instead slid in a dvd for class this morning. Really, I had been meaning to show the video, but it covered topics over a couple of weeks, so it was not a good fit anywhere. Shoe horned it in today, anyway. And to boot, it was a tear jerker.
No actual tears today (have seen them before with this video), but some serious long faces when I dived into the discussion topics after it was over. What was the tear-jerker? The Man Who Knew, a Frontline documentary on FBI agent John O'Neil, who had nearly connected all the dots of the 9/11 plot. Good documentary, but the very definitinition of irony in the end, and incredibly sad irony at that.
I did have a discussion on the relevant issues--organizational culture, interagency and intra-agency conflict, SOP's, goal conflict.
So, okay, maybe I did not earn my keep today. but hopefully the punt will allow me to have more focus on my lectures on unobtrusive and evaluation research. Oh yeah, something about the privilaged position of business tonight. That, and a debate on on bilingual education. Give me an opportunity to whip out some of my mad dissertation knowledge on them young punks.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Sleep, or lack there of
Here I am again, laying in bed, typing away, wondering how much sleep I will get. Too many dopios today? Not enough bike suffering. Unenthused about personnel mangement lecture at 8. Yep, that later one might be the ticket.
Suffering on the Tuesday ride was at a minimum today. Small group. Kenny was there, but he was tired too, and was content with chill pace to wind down for Philly week. No other real hitters beyond that. Nevertheless, some effort was exerted on the pedals as we turned back to SLO. But not too much. Kinda sucks, though, cuz I need to pick up the pace so as to make the geezers wheeze. Ah, but the end of the quarter is near, and Wednesdays will be mine again. No 8am lectures on personnel management, followed by whater ever else I'm covering in my other two classes at noon and 6 (should probably look at the syllabi and check that out).
Unfortunately, though, the pro contingent will also hit empty soon, just as I'm getting ready for my summer. First L. Euser splits, now Kenny is getting ready to hit the road. Damn it, who am I gonna chase, and the enjoy a nice dopio afterwards with? I should have a talk with the university admissions office and have his girlfriend's transcripts, shall we say, altered, making it so she has another year for that degree thingy. Hmm?
I think that the dopios are wearing off, and the soft glow of the Powerbook is making me sleepy. Sleep, bring it on.
Suffering on the Tuesday ride was at a minimum today. Small group. Kenny was there, but he was tired too, and was content with chill pace to wind down for Philly week. No other real hitters beyond that. Nevertheless, some effort was exerted on the pedals as we turned back to SLO. But not too much. Kinda sucks, though, cuz I need to pick up the pace so as to make the geezers wheeze. Ah, but the end of the quarter is near, and Wednesdays will be mine again. No 8am lectures on personnel management, followed by whater ever else I'm covering in my other two classes at noon and 6 (should probably look at the syllabi and check that out).
Unfortunately, though, the pro contingent will also hit empty soon, just as I'm getting ready for my summer. First L. Euser splits, now Kenny is getting ready to hit the road. Damn it, who am I gonna chase, and the enjoy a nice dopio afterwards with? I should have a talk with the university admissions office and have his girlfriend's transcripts, shall we say, altered, making it so she has another year for that degree thingy. Hmm?
I think that the dopios are wearing off, and the soft glow of the Powerbook is making me sleepy. Sleep, bring it on.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Mt. Hamilton Century
Holy cow, them old men can go up a hill fast. And down at a pretty good clip, too. I was not that bad going up, but of course could not change speeds when those spazzes like Bagboy Martin, or Spine boy Collins got all excited 'n stuff. Okay, slip back to the second group, and see if we can just tempo up. I gave them some of my umph, and Dylan C. told his boy to take it easy so another boy could come back, but apparently it was opposite day, today, so his disco boy went go go go. What the f? I chilled back with DC, waited for Big Boy Bosch and Troy B. but got my nervous boy arse dropped on the descent. Just could not let it go.
Oh, but swooping down the mt. was Olaf, with an Aussie in tow. We caught Troy B. and zeroed in on group 2. But a punch over a bump put me and Troy in trouble. Man, my legs suck. So, it was me and T left to work a little longer to catch the group.
We got them, though, and cruised it in. Then there was the snobby boy in me, irritated that I got stuck behind a guy who certainly has a nice sunburn strip between his jersey and shorts (bibs my boy), his visor sticking out is jersey pocket, a dirty bike, and simply unkept looking. Crichey, it is a beautiful sport, make and effort to look good. Again, snobby boy.
Okay, then getting ready for the ride back to SJ, the young punk pro who I drove up there up and split with his pro pals. Leaving me to drag old man Kramer and SLO boy Craig Nunnes back to SJ (Henry you know I'll drag you anywhere).
Anyway, one long ass day, at about a buck ten. Probably the longest day in nearly 15 years.
Then there was the 3 hour drive home. The long ass day was starting to wear on my ass. But hey, that young punk pro Kenny slept peacefully as I pegged it home. Good for him. The least he could have done, though, was wait for me and drag my booty back to SJ. Instead, I hear, he gave OV a hitch. No love, no love.
Anyway, nuff of this. Gran Prix of Monaco is on. Go L. Hamilton, get Alonso. Sure could have used one of those four wheel wonders today.
Oh, but swooping down the mt. was Olaf, with an Aussie in tow. We caught Troy B. and zeroed in on group 2. But a punch over a bump put me and Troy in trouble. Man, my legs suck. So, it was me and T left to work a little longer to catch the group.
We got them, though, and cruised it in. Then there was the snobby boy in me, irritated that I got stuck behind a guy who certainly has a nice sunburn strip between his jersey and shorts (bibs my boy), his visor sticking out is jersey pocket, a dirty bike, and simply unkept looking. Crichey, it is a beautiful sport, make and effort to look good. Again, snobby boy.
Okay, then getting ready for the ride back to SJ, the young punk pro who I drove up there up and split with his pro pals. Leaving me to drag old man Kramer and SLO boy Craig Nunnes back to SJ (Henry you know I'll drag you anywhere).
Anyway, one long ass day, at about a buck ten. Probably the longest day in nearly 15 years.
Then there was the 3 hour drive home. The long ass day was starting to wear on my ass. But hey, that young punk pro Kenny slept peacefully as I pegged it home. Good for him. The least he could have done, though, was wait for me and drag my booty back to SJ. Instead, I hear, he gave OV a hitch. No love, no love.
Anyway, nuff of this. Gran Prix of Monaco is on. Go L. Hamilton, get Alonso. Sure could have used one of those four wheel wonders today.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Duh
Okay, no surprise, the big Dane got the yellow in 96 by pumping up his red. Of all the winners in the 90's, he clearly would be the most suspect.
The suprise, that he confessed. But is that even a surprise?
The light has been shining on the sport long enough now, that it is high time that they come out of the wood work.
And maybe I'm an one of them cock-eye optimists, but I think that this is good. And, in a strange way, the big Dane has the cred to take on the dope. I don't think that he got up in the morning, all excited by getting his next EPO, HGH, corto and whatever else fix. And I can buy that he'd like his kids clean.
There will be more drama to come. And I will still have to respond to those who don't bleed the sport like me that it is not cycling, it is professional sports that have a problem. But I think that cycling is the first sport to go through the 12 step program to clean up. We are going past the denial phase now.
The suprise, that he confessed. But is that even a surprise?
The light has been shining on the sport long enough now, that it is high time that they come out of the wood work.
And maybe I'm an one of them cock-eye optimists, but I think that this is good. And, in a strange way, the big Dane has the cred to take on the dope. I don't think that he got up in the morning, all excited by getting his next EPO, HGH, corto and whatever else fix. And I can buy that he'd like his kids clean.
There will be more drama to come. And I will still have to respond to those who don't bleed the sport like me that it is not cycling, it is professional sports that have a problem. But I think that cycling is the first sport to go through the 12 step program to clean up. We are going past the denial phase now.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Pinche Pass
Sunday pain. While the Panoche Pass road race said nothing about time trial, it was a 47 mile road race, and a 20 mile time trial all wrapped up into one for me.
Heading out, I chatted it up with ol' Dylan Casey. It's been a long time since I last saw him as a young UCSB student/punk, before he went Postal. He's a husband and a pop now, doing to Google thang, but he's got the Postal connection riding for the Disco Geezers.
Heading over Panoche Pass, Sassy pushed the pace some. I took it over the top, then held on in the back of the pack for the descent. And damn, the semi-flat before the turn was hair raising fun. 40+ bumping around on some fairly poor pavement.
Then it was serious echelon time. I weasled my way up to the last bit of the tail, trying to avoid the pull through. However, I did contribute a bit.
Going over the bump before the turn around, I let the climbing legs warm up a bit. Not too much of an effort, more to see who would respond. No one.
Then the bump after the turn around, J. Boyer led up to the feed zone (immediately after the turn around and at the bottom of the bump), and I said, maybe somewhat softly respecting his TDF pedigree, “don’t attack in the feed”. I thought he slowed it down a bit, but it was still hard to grab a bottle at the speed we were going. After I slipped the bottle in my cage, I looked back, and we were gone, screaming up the bump in the big ring. Okay, here we go. Sassy made the huge effort and bridged the gap, with a couple of others, making it 9 going over the bump, and dropping down into the crosswinds. We worked it pretty well, and it was clear we were gone.
Trouble in the engine room, though. I sat out a couple of pulls when we turned into the mondo head wind, but sucked it up and got back in line after a few rotations out. When we hit the pass, I did the Grewal. Feeling off, go hard. Plus, I thought that my legs might be better with the climb. And at first, it felt like that was the case, stringing out the group and believing that I was causing some hurt. But that did not last long. Snap, crackle pop, gone half way up. Pinche Pass.
From that point on, it was a 20 mile lonely journey to the line. Okay, so some dropped 2’s came by, and I hopped on for a couple of turns. However, I did not think that was right, so I dropped off the back. Yet, they did not drop me. I kept pace about 40 meters back, and caught up every so often. In the end, I came across the line for 7, about 2 minutes back from the winning group. Congtrats Sassy.
Mt Ham next week. Legs, and stomach, don’t fail me then.
Heading out, I chatted it up with ol' Dylan Casey. It's been a long time since I last saw him as a young UCSB student/punk, before he went Postal. He's a husband and a pop now, doing to Google thang, but he's got the Postal connection riding for the Disco Geezers.
Heading over Panoche Pass, Sassy pushed the pace some. I took it over the top, then held on in the back of the pack for the descent. And damn, the semi-flat before the turn was hair raising fun. 40+ bumping around on some fairly poor pavement.
Then it was serious echelon time. I weasled my way up to the last bit of the tail, trying to avoid the pull through. However, I did contribute a bit.
Going over the bump before the turn around, I let the climbing legs warm up a bit. Not too much of an effort, more to see who would respond. No one.
Then the bump after the turn around, J. Boyer led up to the feed zone (immediately after the turn around and at the bottom of the bump), and I said, maybe somewhat softly respecting his TDF pedigree, “don’t attack in the feed”. I thought he slowed it down a bit, but it was still hard to grab a bottle at the speed we were going. After I slipped the bottle in my cage, I looked back, and we were gone, screaming up the bump in the big ring. Okay, here we go. Sassy made the huge effort and bridged the gap, with a couple of others, making it 9 going over the bump, and dropping down into the crosswinds. We worked it pretty well, and it was clear we were gone.
Trouble in the engine room, though. I sat out a couple of pulls when we turned into the mondo head wind, but sucked it up and got back in line after a few rotations out. When we hit the pass, I did the Grewal. Feeling off, go hard. Plus, I thought that my legs might be better with the climb. And at first, it felt like that was the case, stringing out the group and believing that I was causing some hurt. But that did not last long. Snap, crackle pop, gone half way up. Pinche Pass.
From that point on, it was a 20 mile lonely journey to the line. Okay, so some dropped 2’s came by, and I hopped on for a couple of turns. However, I did not think that was right, so I dropped off the back. Yet, they did not drop me. I kept pace about 40 meters back, and caught up every so often. In the end, I came across the line for 7, about 2 minutes back from the winning group. Congtrats Sassy.
Mt Ham next week. Legs, and stomach, don’t fail me then.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Bike Lanes Suck
Really, they do. In Kansas (not like I am nostalgic or anything) there were few, if any, bike lanes around Lawrence. Thus, we rode in the road. And thusly more, the roads were clean cuz of the cars. That ain't so with our lovely wide enough to go two abreast and more room to spare bike lanes in bike friendly Cali (except for the car-centric cali types).
Why the ire? Me lost another tire today. A week old beauty. That’s two in two weeks. Now, I've taken to riding nice tires in my old age. In part due to riding on clean roads before I moved home. But now it is a bit of laziness as well. Now that I am racing again, I don't want to have to change anything between when I am riding (not quite to the point of calling it training) and racing. I bought me some damn fancy Fulcrum Zeros (which took a bit of a hit today as well) that are light as all get out, and sturdy to boot, and I dress them up with nice rubber. Again, from coffee shop ride to sweaty road race without having to fiddle around changing wheels, tires, gearing, nothing but my attitude. Yet, road debris eats up the tires before they get worn out most of the time.
What's the solution? Admittingly, I can get S-Works Mondo's pretty cheap through the team. But I could get other Specialized tires even cheaper. Do I just suck it up and change the shoes before I race? Ya get the "damn these are nice" feeling when you race on the nice stuff and ride on the bombers. That said, that feeling goes away quickly when the suffering starts. Screw it, I want that yum yum feeling all the time. So, point that S#%t out, people. And hey, any motorists out there, could you do some road sweeping in the bike lane? Preferably when we are not actually in the lane.
Why the ire? Me lost another tire today. A week old beauty. That’s two in two weeks. Now, I've taken to riding nice tires in my old age. In part due to riding on clean roads before I moved home. But now it is a bit of laziness as well. Now that I am racing again, I don't want to have to change anything between when I am riding (not quite to the point of calling it training) and racing. I bought me some damn fancy Fulcrum Zeros (which took a bit of a hit today as well) that are light as all get out, and sturdy to boot, and I dress them up with nice rubber. Again, from coffee shop ride to sweaty road race without having to fiddle around changing wheels, tires, gearing, nothing but my attitude. Yet, road debris eats up the tires before they get worn out most of the time.
What's the solution? Admittingly, I can get S-Works Mondo's pretty cheap through the team. But I could get other Specialized tires even cheaper. Do I just suck it up and change the shoes before I race? Ya get the "damn these are nice" feeling when you race on the nice stuff and ride on the bombers. That said, that feeling goes away quickly when the suffering starts. Screw it, I want that yum yum feeling all the time. So, point that S#%t out, people. And hey, any motorists out there, could you do some road sweeping in the bike lane? Preferably when we are not actually in the lane.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Insomniac
Maybe it’s cuz I did not post the normal Tuesday ride review. Maybe cuz it’s that I am getting a faculty review tomorrow. Maybe it’s I’m not quite prepped for my 8-8 day tomorrow.
So, here we go. The Tuesday ride seemed harder than normal this week. Maybe I still have dead legs from riding them six feet under on Saturday at b-hills. Or, that I just can’t seem to get my saddle height to feel right after the pedal and seat swap. I swear it is below where I had it before (according to my super special tool), but it feels high. Maybe I’m high. Anyway, this big, enthusiastic, tri-guy added his muscle to the ride. He gave me the slip going up the Col de Turri, and I, more or less, set Ozzie up to take him out over the top. No KOM for me today. On the way down, there was a big regroup. Way too big if you ask me, but no one is. And, while we did not have the speed of last week on LOVR (wind was a bit abnormal), it hurt. The tri-kid put the hurt on, and I just tried to stay glued to the tri-guy's wheel. Try as I might, I could not up the ante. Oh well.
Oh yeah, Kenny’s back, but he did not make the ride. Kick ass on the TTT win in Italy BMC boys.
On the professional stuff. Peer evaluations. Fun. This is where a faculty member sits in on your class. Survived it before wit flying colors, but it still seems an odd process. I am really not too worried, but I could have a bad day. Especially if I am up late doing the stupid blogging thing. The sit in just happens to coincide with the day I assigned the students to read an article of mine. So, seeing that I’ve published in the area of performance management, and that is the topic, who the heck can question my authority? Hmm? Me, maybe. It is one of those areas where there is a lot of talk, and all the management solutions are just about beating one’s chest and saying you're right. So wait, I’ve published something in the area, so all I have to do is go in and beat my chest tomorrow morning. Maybe I should bring some bananas to toss around as well.
Okay, will this cure my insomnia if I hit the publish button. I hope it does, cuz the alarm is going off in 5 hours.
So, here we go. The Tuesday ride seemed harder than normal this week. Maybe I still have dead legs from riding them six feet under on Saturday at b-hills. Or, that I just can’t seem to get my saddle height to feel right after the pedal and seat swap. I swear it is below where I had it before (according to my super special tool), but it feels high. Maybe I’m high. Anyway, this big, enthusiastic, tri-guy added his muscle to the ride. He gave me the slip going up the Col de Turri, and I, more or less, set Ozzie up to take him out over the top. No KOM for me today. On the way down, there was a big regroup. Way too big if you ask me, but no one is. And, while we did not have the speed of last week on LOVR (wind was a bit abnormal), it hurt. The tri-kid put the hurt on, and I just tried to stay glued to the tri-guy's wheel. Try as I might, I could not up the ante. Oh well.
Oh yeah, Kenny’s back, but he did not make the ride. Kick ass on the TTT win in Italy BMC boys.
On the professional stuff. Peer evaluations. Fun. This is where a faculty member sits in on your class. Survived it before wit flying colors, but it still seems an odd process. I am really not too worried, but I could have a bad day. Especially if I am up late doing the stupid blogging thing. The sit in just happens to coincide with the day I assigned the students to read an article of mine. So, seeing that I’ve published in the area of performance management, and that is the topic, who the heck can question my authority? Hmm? Me, maybe. It is one of those areas where there is a lot of talk, and all the management solutions are just about beating one’s chest and saying you're right. So wait, I’ve published something in the area, so all I have to do is go in and beat my chest tomorrow morning. Maybe I should bring some bananas to toss around as well.
Okay, will this cure my insomnia if I hit the publish button. I hope it does, cuz the alarm is going off in 5 hours.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Ouch
New saddle (even when it is the same model) just before a 90+ mile hilly road race with the big boys = sore rear.
Of course, the soreness below the rear, and stiffness in shoulders and neck now that I think about it, all have to do with my fat head. Race, and race hard, regardless of the fact that ya ain't on the old training program. But really, that should not be a problem. My legs should do it on memory, right? 15 year old memory. Plus, it was team orders that made me do it (although I really ain't part of the "elite team"). They said to make sure that a berry was always up the road. So, when a couple went chasing a berry up the road, I looked around, and since I was up front, I figured it was my turn to go.
So there I was, on the second 19 mile lap of a long ass race, off the front, trying to draft off of two f'n small cyclists. I gave it a college try, but my legs were not digging it. On the 3rd lap, though, the calvary came charging. About 9, with four berry boys. Damn, this looks good. I worked with them for much of the that lap, but when we hit the bears, I knew that I could not hang. Legs already sore, and keister as well. If I had packed a 4mm allen key, I would have stopped and lowered my saddle, but instead I figured that I would just coast back to the pack, and do one more lap with them. I even drifted off the back on the finishing climb, but when I went over the top, the group was not that far up the road, and one more lap turned into, why don't I just finish (myself off that is). There were a bunch of motorcycles and a couple of cars in between me and the pack, so I chased like an idiot through the vehicles on the descent, caught back on and I spanked myself and kept going for the fifth and final lap. I even put in a little dig on a kicker coming of San Pablo Damn road. Damn it, Nick, yer not 23 anymore.
Well, I shut down on the final climbs, and coasted in. Finished, and finished off. But hey, it was fun to know that I could still mix it up.
And today, round and round in Salinas. Dirk decided to slum it with the geezers, and there was another guy in a berry jersey that we did not know, but rode pretty well. Thankfully the course was fairly smooth, cuz my keister was sore. I lowered the saddle before the race, but that could not heal the sore that formed yesterday, and I felt it for sure.
Anyway, I put in a bit of an effort early, and my legs laughed at me and spit lactic acid into the veins. Yet, a couple laps later, I gave it another dig. Next thing I knew, I was off the front suffering with two others while Olaf was whispering sweet nothings in my ear over the loud speaker (BTW, a little softer on the th of my last name there, Olaf). Yet, I was running on about 90%, due to the silly ass effort from the day before, so it was inevitable that we got caught, which took about 5 or 6laps. A few laps later, though, Dirk was up the road. Thought about trying to get up there, but the thought did not last long, and I kept to myself in the pack. And, while in the pack, I was reacquainted with a smell I had not smelled in a long time, Chris Walker. Oh my, BO big time (apparently it was J. Boyer, not C. Walker, so sorry Chris). And, the boy was a bit scary too. I tried to get away from him, but he followed me and got in front of me wherever I went.
Two laps to go, I made an effort, and even caused a bit of a split. But due to some miscommunication with the other berry boy, I did not bury myself to try to make it stick. So, C. Black came motoring by on the backside, with his boy in tow, and I realized that I am not a sprinter. I finished, and I am again finished off.
Quick journey home, and one happy, tail wagging, paw tapping dog waiting to see me. A load of exams to grade, and an 8-8 day tomorrow as well. Ouch.
Of course, the soreness below the rear, and stiffness in shoulders and neck now that I think about it, all have to do with my fat head. Race, and race hard, regardless of the fact that ya ain't on the old training program. But really, that should not be a problem. My legs should do it on memory, right? 15 year old memory. Plus, it was team orders that made me do it (although I really ain't part of the "elite team"). They said to make sure that a berry was always up the road. So, when a couple went chasing a berry up the road, I looked around, and since I was up front, I figured it was my turn to go.
So there I was, on the second 19 mile lap of a long ass race, off the front, trying to draft off of two f'n small cyclists. I gave it a college try, but my legs were not digging it. On the 3rd lap, though, the calvary came charging. About 9, with four berry boys. Damn, this looks good. I worked with them for much of the that lap, but when we hit the bears, I knew that I could not hang. Legs already sore, and keister as well. If I had packed a 4mm allen key, I would have stopped and lowered my saddle, but instead I figured that I would just coast back to the pack, and do one more lap with them. I even drifted off the back on the finishing climb, but when I went over the top, the group was not that far up the road, and one more lap turned into, why don't I just finish (myself off that is). There were a bunch of motorcycles and a couple of cars in between me and the pack, so I chased like an idiot through the vehicles on the descent, caught back on and I spanked myself and kept going for the fifth and final lap. I even put in a little dig on a kicker coming of San Pablo Damn road. Damn it, Nick, yer not 23 anymore.
Well, I shut down on the final climbs, and coasted in. Finished, and finished off. But hey, it was fun to know that I could still mix it up.
And today, round and round in Salinas. Dirk decided to slum it with the geezers, and there was another guy in a berry jersey that we did not know, but rode pretty well. Thankfully the course was fairly smooth, cuz my keister was sore. I lowered the saddle before the race, but that could not heal the sore that formed yesterday, and I felt it for sure.
Anyway, I put in a bit of an effort early, and my legs laughed at me and spit lactic acid into the veins. Yet, a couple laps later, I gave it another dig. Next thing I knew, I was off the front suffering with two others while Olaf was whispering sweet nothings in my ear over the loud speaker (BTW, a little softer on the th of my last name there, Olaf). Yet, I was running on about 90%, due to the silly ass effort from the day before, so it was inevitable that we got caught, which took about 5 or 6laps. A few laps later, though, Dirk was up the road. Thought about trying to get up there, but the thought did not last long, and I kept to myself in the pack. And, while in the pack, I was reacquainted with a smell I had not smelled in a long time, Chris Walker. Oh my, BO big time (apparently it was J. Boyer, not C. Walker, so sorry Chris). And, the boy was a bit scary too. I tried to get away from him, but he followed me and got in front of me wherever I went.
Two laps to go, I made an effort, and even caused a bit of a split. But due to some miscommunication with the other berry boy, I did not bury myself to try to make it stick. So, C. Black came motoring by on the backside, with his boy in tow, and I realized that I am not a sprinter. I finished, and I am again finished off.
Quick journey home, and one happy, tail wagging, paw tapping dog waiting to see me. A load of exams to grade, and an 8-8 day tomorrow as well. Ouch.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
7:30 Start. What the f?
Apparently I was not paying attention when I registered for the prosey race at b-hill. As Kramer notified me, the damn thing starts at 7:30. Don't get me wrong, by then, I've normally had two cups of coffee, walked me dog, ate a little something, and at least twice a week am in my cement bunker getting ready to get the kids excited about public administration. But a 7:30 start. How the heck am I supposed to digest my oatmeal by start?
Ah, who cares. I get to play the domestique roll with the elite squad, and get to see my long lost buds and their new twins. And maybe even a Hubes sighting as well.
But damn, 7:30. I'm nutz.
Ah, who cares. I get to play the domestique roll with the elite squad, and get to see my long lost buds and their new twins. And maybe even a Hubes sighting as well.
But damn, 7:30. I'm nutz.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Me and the big berry boys at b-hill
It seemed not long ago that any response to questions about me racing was always "nah, done that. Biking is just for fun now."
Then a couple of months ago I find myself in a race. It's okay, it is only a masters race. I can control it and quit when ever I want.
But I just found myself registering for the 1/2 pro Berkeley Hills Road Race.
Oh crap, what have I done? Maybe I can't control this. So the masters is full; I shoulda just stayed home and rode around the central coast. But no, gotta race. And heck, my lisence still says I'm a 1, so why not race in the prosey race. Oh crap, what have I done?
91 miles. Rolling terrain. New saddle that I still have not dialed in. Just how long will it take to get that sweet spot that I had in the last? Hopefully before Saturday morning.
Then a couple of months ago I find myself in a race. It's okay, it is only a masters race. I can control it and quit when ever I want.
But I just found myself registering for the 1/2 pro Berkeley Hills Road Race.
Oh crap, what have I done? Maybe I can't control this. So the masters is full; I shoulda just stayed home and rode around the central coast. But no, gotta race. And heck, my lisence still says I'm a 1, so why not race in the prosey race. Oh crap, what have I done?
91 miles. Rolling terrain. New saddle that I still have not dialed in. Just how long will it take to get that sweet spot that I had in the last? Hopefully before Saturday morning.
Motivation, logit regression, and political participation
What motivates me? Good weather and thoughts of riding. Couldn't slip that into class this morning, so just went over Maslow's hierarchy, Hertzberg, and other stuff. And tossed in a little groupthink for fun. And no one wanted to play in on the application of groupthink to the decision to invade Iraq.
Now, sitting here, in the absolutely perfect weather, I am changing gears (unfortunately not on my bike) to get ready to go over logit regression at noon. It’s so bloody simple, really. Okay, maybe not. But it is only an undergrad course, so I don’t see me going the full 2 hours. Especially since I don’t have a computer projector to run analyses on. Tech school my ass.
So, is it possible to squeeze in a ride in between logit lecture and tonight’s lecture on political participation? Dog walk = 40 mins. To and from campus = 25 mins. Decompression ~ 40 mins. I’ve got three hours between class and office hours before the 6pmer, so maybe.
But of course, I do need to get ready to discuss the threat that declining participation poses to democracy. Riding looking slim as always on Wednesday. At least I’m back in Cali, so I can be pretty confident that I will motivated by good weather tomorrow.
Now, sitting here, in the absolutely perfect weather, I am changing gears (unfortunately not on my bike) to get ready to go over logit regression at noon. It’s so bloody simple, really. Okay, maybe not. But it is only an undergrad course, so I don’t see me going the full 2 hours. Especially since I don’t have a computer projector to run analyses on. Tech school my ass.
So, is it possible to squeeze in a ride in between logit lecture and tonight’s lecture on political participation? Dog walk = 40 mins. To and from campus = 25 mins. Decompression ~ 40 mins. I’ve got three hours between class and office hours before the 6pmer, so maybe.
But of course, I do need to get ready to discuss the threat that declining participation poses to democracy. Riding looking slim as always on Wednesday. At least I’m back in Cali, so I can be pretty confident that I will motivated by good weather tomorrow.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Do I use sunscreen?
Here I am again, doing to coffee shop time, and Pelo Tony (a guy who rides a $10k bike and says he is just a recreational rider) comes in and asks me if I wear sunscreen. Even though I got the rusty top, I'm no Ginger Kid, but in fact a daywalker. And in fact, once I stopped racing years ago, I first did away that that silly computer thingy on my bars (although its back, bigger, geekier, and causing more of a number obsession than before (must be all the stats training, and teaching I've had and do)), then I decided that it was long sleeves or no sleeves. I was done with silly farmer tan lines. I guess it was bound to happen, being a Californian and all, that vanity would hit me so hard in my late thirties.
Anyway, tan lines and sunscreen. Apparently a local dermatologist gave Tony some high-end sunscreen, and he says that he does not wear sunscreen. Not that he uses a low spf factor, but none at all. He says this as though it is against his religion. Now, I have my vanity issues, but he must practice a strict Catholic doctrine like vanity. Church of California Middle Aged man. That said, he has a nice tan. And he does look immaculate on a bike (I’m okay with my masculinity to make comments about men’s looks).
So, I now possess some 57 spf Helioso suncreen by Neutrogena. 57 spf. If I put this stuff on, I will look like I have Gingervitis; then my poster boy moniker will be taken away. Better just use it on the ears and nose, so they don’t drop off later in life. Vanity.
Anyway, tan lines and sunscreen. Apparently a local dermatologist gave Tony some high-end sunscreen, and he says that he does not wear sunscreen. Not that he uses a low spf factor, but none at all. He says this as though it is against his religion. Now, I have my vanity issues, but he must practice a strict Catholic doctrine like vanity. Church of California Middle Aged man. That said, he has a nice tan. And he does look immaculate on a bike (I’m okay with my masculinity to make comments about men’s looks).
So, I now possess some 57 spf Helioso suncreen by Neutrogena. 57 spf. If I put this stuff on, I will look like I have Gingervitis; then my poster boy moniker will be taken away. Better just use it on the ears and nose, so they don’t drop off later in life. Vanity.
Slash and burn
Lost a tire today. It will be missed. So with the money from my pocket. Oh well, all for the sake of going fast, and pumping up my ego. Oh, my poor little ego.
In fact, it was a mechanical kind of day. Dealing with a new seatpost (slippage). Findng out the the shell on my toupe (not my hair piece that I don't have yet) was broken. Got that replaced, but am having the damnest time getting it right. The new saddle does not have the sag yet, so it feels high, but the nose is below the mark (super special adjustment tool, a mark on a motor oil bottle that I sit on the top tube). I feel that that princess and the pea thang.
Anyway, Tuesday special time. I get in a little ride before hand, and roll to the starting point. Smallish group again. No Jared, no Ken, so no one to chase. Craig N. is there, but he seems to not be going too fast, even though he did win the 40 Otter circuit race. Oh well.
Run out, uneventful. Other that slashing my front tire. Argh. Luckily EB (sporting the time trial bike today) had a spent goo packet for a boot, allowing me to finish the ride.
I don't go for the Morro Bay sprint (like I ever do), but Craig N. puts in an impressive dig. The wind is kicking in the normal direction today, so it should be more fun heading back compared to last week. However, this week, it looks as though the sitting on is going to start way early. What's up with these people? Ain't this about getting fast? Put yer nose in the wind. EB, though, decides to pitch in a helping hand right before we head up the hill. Of course, he's got the speedy bike, so cutting through the wind is a bit easier for him.
He ushers me through, and it's time to busta move on the hill. Ain't gonna get competition from the kid today, so it is me against me. And guess what? I won. Yey. KOM is mine.
Going down, I think make 'em chase or wait a bit? Okay, let's be social. But to my surprise, first up is Peter B. He musta got some juice from Floyd when he came through town on his FFF tour. Hey, cool enough. Roation time. But even though Pedro got over the hill well, he did not have the pull through, allowing aero EB to catch up, and C. "the grunter" Black as well. I pull most of LOVR, and even made CB hurt a bit on the downward side, where his superior downhill weight usually gives him the advantage. He does get the sprint, though, cuz we all know that ain't my gig. I just warm them up and let them go. Although, Olaf did make some dig about me not having a finish. Maybe I really should make some out of the saddle efforts some time soon.
Damn, where did the day go? Sahsa needs her walk, and I need to get ready for the 8-8 schedule tomorrow. Yey.
In fact, it was a mechanical kind of day. Dealing with a new seatpost (slippage). Findng out the the shell on my toupe (not my hair piece that I don't have yet) was broken. Got that replaced, but am having the damnest time getting it right. The new saddle does not have the sag yet, so it feels high, but the nose is below the mark (super special adjustment tool, a mark on a motor oil bottle that I sit on the top tube). I feel that that princess and the pea thang.
Anyway, Tuesday special time. I get in a little ride before hand, and roll to the starting point. Smallish group again. No Jared, no Ken, so no one to chase. Craig N. is there, but he seems to not be going too fast, even though he did win the 40 Otter circuit race. Oh well.
Run out, uneventful. Other that slashing my front tire. Argh. Luckily EB (sporting the time trial bike today) had a spent goo packet for a boot, allowing me to finish the ride.
I don't go for the Morro Bay sprint (like I ever do), but Craig N. puts in an impressive dig. The wind is kicking in the normal direction today, so it should be more fun heading back compared to last week. However, this week, it looks as though the sitting on is going to start way early. What's up with these people? Ain't this about getting fast? Put yer nose in the wind. EB, though, decides to pitch in a helping hand right before we head up the hill. Of course, he's got the speedy bike, so cutting through the wind is a bit easier for him.
He ushers me through, and it's time to busta move on the hill. Ain't gonna get competition from the kid today, so it is me against me. And guess what? I won. Yey. KOM is mine.
Going down, I think make 'em chase or wait a bit? Okay, let's be social. But to my surprise, first up is Peter B. He musta got some juice from Floyd when he came through town on his FFF tour. Hey, cool enough. Roation time. But even though Pedro got over the hill well, he did not have the pull through, allowing aero EB to catch up, and C. "the grunter" Black as well. I pull most of LOVR, and even made CB hurt a bit on the downward side, where his superior downhill weight usually gives him the advantage. He does get the sprint, though, cuz we all know that ain't my gig. I just warm them up and let them go. Although, Olaf did make some dig about me not having a finish. Maybe I really should make some out of the saddle efforts some time soon.
Damn, where did the day go? Sahsa needs her walk, and I need to get ready for the 8-8 schedule tomorrow. Yey.
Half hearted confession, half hearted hope
"I was only attempted doping (sic)." So, apparently Basso is only admitting to having his blood drawn? Yet the documents that led him to confess state that it was drawn and pumped back in since 2004. Uhm, only some of accusations were true?
Here I thought that we would get a cleansing of sort, and even willing to respect Basso. Yet, he sounds like a junkie not fessing up to his addiction.
Oh sure, fessing to doping would mean that the maglia rosa would go down to Simoni. But Millar gave up his rainbow jersey.
I'm curious to see what his confession statement says. If he admitted to getting blood drawn prior to the Giro, I suspect that the UCI can still strip that title anyway.
Fess up, Basso! You're gonna lose the title, save some face.
Here I thought that we would get a cleansing of sort, and even willing to respect Basso. Yet, he sounds like a junkie not fessing up to his addiction.
Oh sure, fessing to doping would mean that the maglia rosa would go down to Simoni. But Millar gave up his rainbow jersey.
I'm curious to see what his confession statement says. If he admitted to getting blood drawn prior to the Giro, I suspect that the UCI can still strip that title anyway.
Fess up, Basso! You're gonna lose the title, save some face.
Friday, May 4, 2007
I have a Ph.D. in what?
So, I'm sitting here, all acedemic and intellectual like, and all, grading papers at a coffee shop, and I evesdrop in on the cute little barrista talking about politics. She's wearing a friends don't let friends vote Republican shirt (giving me excuse to read her... well... I'm a dirty ol...), and the other barista apparently is a Rep. Anyway, she's perplexed by how the rep candidates during the debate the other night were so focused on taxes. Hmm, it is their audience they are talking to, honey. Why not social issues? That's the other party (or are they the anti-war party?).
Now apparently, she was born a Rep. And apparently she's been brainwashed (probably by pin head liberal acadmics like me), so she is wondering how to actually go about changing her party affiliation. Simple, I say (I should know this with my degree). However, what does that mean for primaries. Shit, I don't do elections. I seem to recall one of those silly props creating open primaries before I headed off to the f'n south. However, I seem to remember that something had happened since then (9 people in black robes said nyet).
Anyway, I now know (thanks Google) that California has a modified primary (also would have known that the sec state website would have had this info, since I apparently do institutions).
But, it begs the question, if one can answer these questions with google, why the hell do we need political scientists (BTW, I'm quickly coming to the conclusion that we really don't)?
On another note, the kids here are playing music that they were probably concieved to. Joy Division, The The (feat. Sinead O'Connor), The Smiths, Echo and the Bunnymen, you know, the 80's. And now, Tones on Tail. Oh my. My hair is black again, and eyes circled with dark eyeliner.
That's right, before I started shaving my legs, I had other effimenate tendencies. In fact, I started shaving my legs right when I stopped with the goth beauty products. Right before heading down for a concert where I had front row tickets for Love and Rockets and Souixsie and the Banshees, June 86. The tickets were scored by April and Linda, two UCSB hottie gothies who me and my friend met at a Cult concert in April of 86. Thank you April and Linda, especially April. I Nearly did not get a high school diploma due to that show (missed a few finals my senior year, and I was on the edge of dropping out). Yet, I got a high school dipolma, and several years later a bachelor's degree, and coming full circle to my question, my Ph.D. And again, I have a Ph.D. in what?
Now apparently, she was born a Rep. And apparently she's been brainwashed (probably by pin head liberal acadmics like me), so she is wondering how to actually go about changing her party affiliation. Simple, I say (I should know this with my degree). However, what does that mean for primaries. Shit, I don't do elections. I seem to recall one of those silly props creating open primaries before I headed off to the f'n south. However, I seem to remember that something had happened since then (9 people in black robes said nyet).
Anyway, I now know (thanks Google) that California has a modified primary (also would have known that the sec state website would have had this info, since I apparently do institutions).
But, it begs the question, if one can answer these questions with google, why the hell do we need political scientists (BTW, I'm quickly coming to the conclusion that we really don't)?
On another note, the kids here are playing music that they were probably concieved to. Joy Division, The The (feat. Sinead O'Connor), The Smiths, Echo and the Bunnymen, you know, the 80's. And now, Tones on Tail. Oh my. My hair is black again, and eyes circled with dark eyeliner.
That's right, before I started shaving my legs, I had other effimenate tendencies. In fact, I started shaving my legs right when I stopped with the goth beauty products. Right before heading down for a concert where I had front row tickets for Love and Rockets and Souixsie and the Banshees, June 86. The tickets were scored by April and Linda, two UCSB hottie gothies who me and my friend met at a Cult concert in April of 86. Thank you April and Linda, especially April. I Nearly did not get a high school diploma due to that show (missed a few finals my senior year, and I was on the edge of dropping out). Yet, I got a high school dipolma, and several years later a bachelor's degree, and coming full circle to my question, my Ph.D. And again, I have a Ph.D. in what?
To hell and back
Thursday's dirt went up the venerable Hell climb. I had not gone up that in a decade. That bugger is steep. Brought back memories of a young me on a Bridgestone MB 0. Then we went out to power lines just to make sure that we got a few more gravity defying pitches. Hey, Cat Scratch Fever this weekend, so I should be prepared for the steeps.
For the ups and downs, click here
Just a simple ride up the coast today. A few digs to loosen up the legs.
Should be grading, but decided to spend some money I don't have, ordering a new seatpost. Ya see, my buddy at Time apparently misunderstood me, and sent me some new road pedals. I needed dirt pedals, cuz mine aren't keeping my feet in place. Well, I did want new pedals (love campy, but their pedals suck), but this means that I need to lower my seat. One problem, seatpost seized. Why do they put that damned clear coat on carbon seatposts? Chips, then seals into the seat tube. Anyway, if I ever get this one out, I will have a new one, without clearcoat. Plus, it won't then have a post that goes down to my bottom bracket (screwed up by going to the wrong shop in Lawrence Kansas (Sunflower is the right one)). Ah toys.
TIme, now, to slap some chicken on the grill, beer in my gut, and then get to some grading. Grading. Oh, fucking grading.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Where have all the pros gone?
The prevailing wind did not prevail the way it normally does. Additionally, the ride was missing some muscle. No pro, no up and comer. But, Craig N. shows. Given his Laguna Seca performance, he should add some juice. And, I want that juice, cuz now I've become a complete geek to my new toy, and as looking forward to establishing some benchmarks. Here's the link, although it has a little trip to the beach. Next week, only the noon ride will be included.
Anyway, things were quick heading out, quicker than normal. And given the wind, I fiured that I'd give a long wind up for the first sprint. C. Black takes over, then someone takes the sprint. Not my concern.
Hitting Turri, it is clear that things will be a bit different. No big tail slapping wind. Another kid, though, does add his juice to the road to the hill. Everyone else, as expected, sits back and play oposum. Fools. However, it ain't gonna be as easy to cause ripples up the hill without the big tailwind. Oh well. The kid tries to go by, but I establish order over the top.
By LOVR, we are a group of four, with C. Black being the last to add his grunt to the train. And no Craig N. Hmm, the pace must have been 2bmp outside of the range his trainer said he should stay within. But again, no big speed without the big tailwind. Fun nontheless. But I want the benchmark. Oh well, next week.
Now, it is time to finish writing a test for my public administration class. Any takers. Can you detail the politics/administration dichotomy as detailed by W. Wilson, and discuss how it is difficult to apply in the real world? How about discussing some ways that the principal/agent problem can be solved? Ah, who cares. Wait, I do.
Anyway, things were quick heading out, quicker than normal. And given the wind, I fiured that I'd give a long wind up for the first sprint. C. Black takes over, then someone takes the sprint. Not my concern.
Hitting Turri, it is clear that things will be a bit different. No big tail slapping wind. Another kid, though, does add his juice to the road to the hill. Everyone else, as expected, sits back and play oposum. Fools. However, it ain't gonna be as easy to cause ripples up the hill without the big tailwind. Oh well. The kid tries to go by, but I establish order over the top.
By LOVR, we are a group of four, with C. Black being the last to add his grunt to the train. And no Craig N. Hmm, the pace must have been 2bmp outside of the range his trainer said he should stay within. But again, no big speed without the big tailwind. Fun nontheless. But I want the benchmark. Oh well, next week.
Now, it is time to finish writing a test for my public administration class. Any takers. Can you detail the politics/administration dichotomy as detailed by W. Wilson, and discuss how it is difficult to apply in the real world? How about discussing some ways that the principal/agent problem can be solved? Ah, who cares. Wait, I do.
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