Tuesday, November 03, 2009

Gazoombas, Landscaping and Running Shoes

or
If You Want a Cycling Post, Go Away

My costal cartilage mountain biking injury is slowly healing. It still hurts when I run. My massive gazoombas bouncing around cause some massive hurt...or it's those phantom gazoombas, because I'm sure the hurt would be like that if they were massive.

We had landscaping done. I'm still amazed at the time it took me for someone else to do the work. Phone calls. Emails. Meetings. WD and had I debated this for a long time: You know, WE could do this. It always came back to: And, for exactly HOW MANY weekends do you want to be tied to yardwork? It's one thing to take-on maintenance...quite another to be willingly married to a house project at the expense of fall riding.

Work is beginning to bleed out of the confines of the work day. I'm trying to decide if this is a good thing...tonight I found myself searching for library bloggers and twitter-ers. I need connections. This year, I'm a team of one. At least when I worked K-4, there were three others across the district, but currently I'm at a huge intermediate school that's very different, programming-wise, from the elementaries yet it isn't quite the same as the high school. And, you know, it's not all about books. It's about turning-out kids who are information-literate, and about helping teachers step outta the comfort zone and become coaches of learning. We librarians are on the edge, I tell you.

Running: three times in the past week. I need ski legs. It's a fast workout. 30 minutes out the front door and back home again. Do I like it? Ask me in January when I'm facing down the Birkie trail for a point-to-point.

- The distracted Old Bag

Saturday, October 17, 2009

3.4


It's a great bone density T-Score, but it wasn't the first thing on my mind. Neither was I contemplating the beautiful northern Wisconsin leaf colors, the kick-ass singletrack built by CAMBA, or the great fall afternoon. Moreso, I was thinking that it would be nice to just lay there for awhile.

The bicycle laying across half my body wasn't a huge concern, nor was the one foot that was still clipped-in.

I found the situation interesting and decided it best to ruminate for a bit.

A few friends gathered around...I didn't really see them standing, but it was fine. I was fine, just needed to take stock of a few things.....a measured inward examination, if you will.

I felt some soreness near my backbone and near my sternum...odd, given I'd hit ground on my mid-back off to the side.......

Leaves covered much of what was on the singletrack. I had been on a slight downhill at the day's end when the front wheel knocked something . My weight must have been a bit too far forward. I hadn't quite recovered when I bumped something else, the front wheel jammed right and the bicycle stopped dead, pitched left, dropping me onto the ground.

It was nice to simply lay there and breathe for awhile....sternum was sore...I didn't land on my sternum. And my left chest wall hurt...or something in that general vicinity...or underneath it. But I didn't land on my chest.

This was a conundrum.

I pondered it for a moment.

I was deep in quiet concentration, ticking through the flow chart in my head, waiting for the experience and results to fall into the correct silo so I could determine a course of action. There were none of the sharp pains that typically accompany split skin, pulled muscles or worse, so I knew nothing was broken, cracked, popped or bleeding...everything was filtering into the get up silo but I needed to do a couple more checks.....

Wind, I said.

It was only part of what had happened, but it was the thing that would give people comfort: laying still makes sense to onlookers if there's a neck injury or if the wind is knocked out of a person.

It was about then that WD arrived and grabbed the bike off of me.

I was disappointed to have it gone, really. It was comfortable where it was lying on top of me...felt almost like a covering, blanket-like. Odd how things like that bother onlookers. They need to make it OK...dignified, I guess.

He squatted at my side, then held out his hands for me to grab. As soon as I said no I could see it wasn't what he wanted to hear. His face wrinkled with concern. I shared some tentative words, and eventually was ready to sit up, mostly because I figured it would make people feel better. I would have enjoyed resting a bit more.

I don't really have many impressions from that point on, but I assume I stood up, moved my torso from side to side and did a few contortions with my shoulders and arms...because that's what one does. Maybe I hopped up and down a time or two. I do remember that the rocky, root-strewn trail was a challenge for my concentration and my ribcage over the couple-mile return. If I put my weight on the seat I'd feel the bumps where it hurt.

Any time there's a spill on the mountain bike I'm thankful for having been an athlete as a kid. I've inadvertently developed some off-the-charts bone density scores over my lifetime, but the stage was definitely set before I hit 30. I've not ever fractured a bone, and I figure this last spill could have resulted in one. Instead, the cartilage that connects ribs to sternum appears to have experienced some give and a week later it STILL hurts.

Turns out the "vices" we have in our younger years do affect us, still.


-ob and I did put in another couple days of good riding...we were in Wisconsin, after all!

Monday, October 05, 2009

Heavy

it's been a tough few days;
a friend has made some poor choices
that affect the spouse and children
and the whole thing is weighing on me;
and Stella, she tried getting me out on Sunday
but we've had so much rain the trails were too muddy
so the ride had to wait;
and Stella was really the one who
would have taken my mind off things
because ya can't be thinking about your stupid friends
when she hauls you over a gnarly downhill
with a banked corner
that sends you straight into the hairpin
and through the meadow
toward the log pile

-ob :-(

Monday, September 28, 2009

The Chapel of Murphy Hanrehan

My favorite place on a Sunday....



-OB I don't know what they were, but we did 90 of 'em!

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Scratchin'

We stumbled across the REI Scratch and Dent sale a year ago. It's their regular purge of all their returned products, complete with reason for return written on each item. Many items are incorrect sizes, have a broken piece or were "worn twice, but couldn't break-in"; but there are always items that have a surprising story behind the return.

Last year's favorite? A cycling jersey covered with snags -- snags everywhere...reason for return: washed with velcro.

This year's Best Of was on a well-worn pair of hiking boots -- reason for return: wore for six years, GoreTex quit working.

I scored a great pair of hiking/backpacking boots that retail for $180, leather, waterproof, Vibram soles, mine for $30 $30! -- reason for return: wore three times, too small. They were returned without the insoles, which was the reason for the so-low price tag. I can live with that.

- The Bag loves a deal

Friday, September 25, 2009

Ya Just Can't...

...have a healthy relationship with someone who's unhealthy...

...just can't happen....

One can't make healthy connections with someone who isn't capable.

We assume everyone we meet is normal and therefore is capable of a normal human connection, but we need to keep in mind that there are those who aren't necessarily rational or mentally healthy and therefore are impossible to connect with in a positive and healthy manner.

Someone who is bonkers, even slightly, is impossible to engage in a normal, rational way.

You won't be able to connect to someone if she hasn't got her rocks together.

So the witch down the hall? don't even try!


-OB repeat after me....

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Blogiversary


-The Old four whole years?!? Bag

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Big Words, Beheading and a Commode

Inspired by Juancho's comments to my last post about rude drivers and my attitude of late: at least they know they've been told off by a poet.

A poem.
An English sonnet, in fact, with the following rhyme scheme, quatrains and ending couplet:
a b a b
c d c d
e f e f
g g

10 syllables per line, more or less, written in iambic pentameter.
The third quatrain generally introduces an unexpected sharp thematic or imagistic "turn" called a volta.
--Wikipedia
Whatever. I wouldn't say this has an obvious volta.... You decide. Should be enough to meet the structural criteria.
In Shakespeare's sonnets, the couplet usually summarizes the theme of the poem or introduces a fresh new look at the theme.
--some Wikipedia page written by my arrogant old Lit. professor, I'm sure
The last two lines definitely summarize, but it's not exactly a fresh new look...especially if you're a cyclist. In traffic. At the end of the work day. I'm sure you've had the same thoughts.


Sonnet to Drivers circa September 2009
or
Told Off by a Poet


Entitled motorist, you raise my ire
wrapped in jackassed, fatheaded ignorance
I scheme to hoist your head high upon spire
held victorious above shaming glance.
Self-bestowed, arrogant grandness surrounds
treasured possessions of fuel and wheel
noxious expletives rupture and rebound
reverberate within your box of steel.
Your offspring bears the insufferable curse
of deplorable, abhorrent guidance
supplied while learning their world to traverse
they tumble and careen toward subsidence.
A curse upon your existence bestowed
to spend it suspended in muck of commode.

- The Old English Bag who's really in a GOOD mood this week!