I'm going to be inside you, Eugene Marathon

I am able to say this with 95% confidence that I will be participating in the Eugene Marathon this year. 

Now, this may come as a surprise to all of my friends and followers alike. To many, I'm known as the small guy who races bicycles, although just just between you and me... I'm not very good at that. However, I love riding bikes. I love being able to go 90 miles of scenic wine country in Oregon without phone service or a care in the world. I love the adrenaline rush of going over 50mph. I love racing when I'm in shape. And I particularly love the incredibly small but fast community of friends and racers in Eugene that I have built over the past 4 years. I love all of these things about bikes... which begs the question; why on earth am I switching to train for a marathon? 

Like I said before, I'm not a very good cyclist. I'm a middle of the road category 3 racer (5 being slowest, 1 being fastest), so I'm mediocre. The key to being fast is to be committed to training, and cycling takes a lot of time to be good. In my 3rd year of racing, I made the biggest jump in speed by riding over 8500 miles... this year I'm on track to ride about 3500 if I'm lucky. Full time work past sunset eliminates the possibility of getting good miles outside during weekdays in the winter/spring, and I certainly can't leave during the middle of the day to go for 40 miles. Time is easily the biggest reason I am temporarily transitioning away from riding. Cycling takes 20 minutes to get ready to go outside in Oregon weather, and a minimum of 2 hours outdoors to feel like the time you spent getting ready to actually ride was worth it. Running however takes no more than 5 minutes (less than 1 minute if it's sunny) and a great run can be done in 35 minutes. Also, for some reason, my lab condones running like it's the end all be all exercise. I can leave anytime during the day to go on a run, come back and stretch, take a shower, then get back to work. Almost all of us do it, even though it's a major time killer. The crew would look at it differently if I left to kit up for a ride, even though if I stopped running 3 days a week and switched my training to riding, the amount of time I spent exercising would be the same. 

As I make this temporary transition to a different sport, I can't help but notice all of the negative consequences of doing so. First and foremost: running hurts like a motherfucker.  Aerobically, I have the same fitness as the cycling me, but my knees and muscles absolutely hate running. It took me 4 months to build up my base to run 6 miles. I also can't run more than 3 days a week without my calves and knees withering away. Hopefully as I train more this changes, but I don't think it will anytime soon. Also, remember how I said I was 95% confident I would be running the marathon? The 5% doubt comes from potential injury. Runners are exposed to all types of risks that cyclists aren't. Running can cause stress fractures, shin splints, a wide array of tendon/ligament damage... you name it. And like I said, my knees are already bitches. I'm fairly certain that my knees have weak/damaged menisci, which causes an insatiably sharp pain in them from time to time. The more I run, the more frequent I feel it. Right now, it's maybe once a day. The pain is transient, but man does it suck, and hopefully it doesn't develop in to anything else.

Running and impact both suck, but they're not the worst thing about the sport. The absolute worst part about running is the lack of places I can go. I spent 2 hours running 15 miles on Sunday, and I was able to see the glorious bike paths of Eugene I've ridden on for the past 5 years. There is no scenic wine country running, and no escaping the town unless I drive out of it. I feel like I'm confined to Eugene when I run, whereas when I ride the entire state of Oregon is my oyster.

Another little down side of this training is that Dan Mahoney is going to be faster than me on a bicycle this year. In fact, he's already faster than me now. Sure, I can win up punchy hill climbs that last one minute, but overall Dan's going to be the better rider. Of course, I don't wish Dan to be slower than he is... that would be a terrible and selfish thing of me to wish. I wish Dan is the fastest he possibly can be in life... but I also wish that I am ever just so slightly faster than him always... is that too much to ask? It's not really a rivalry thing, clearly either of us would be ecstatic if we won a CAT 3 race, but we are both competitive in nature, and there's something satisfying about beating up each other on the bike.

Overall, I feel like there are more negatives to running than positives, and I really don't enjoy it as much as cycling. I think after this marathon I'll commit the rest of year to riding, but as of right now, I am 95% sure this will happen. 

How can I reach these kids?

A few months ago I decided to have lunch with who is quite possibly both my favorite and most influential instructor that I've ever had in my academic career: Mr. Teschner (who I will refer to as Ken from now on).

Ken teaches both Advanced Freshman English courses as well as Theory of Knowledge (a course designed to make you think about how things work), and he takes his passion of teaching to a level that no other teachers or professors I've been with in the past have matched. He has always taken the responsibility to make sure each individual student uses their minds to the best they can and really helps (or helped me) get on the right academic track. His personality is eerily similar to that of Benjamin Linus' when Benjamin was a high school teacher in the alternate universe. 

Alas, I digress. During lunch this past summer, Ken asked me if I'd like to lend my scientific input in to his Theory of Knowledge class; an advanced elective filled with Juniors and Seniors in high school. I unhesitantly agreed, telling him that I was sure I could teach kids about how science works in real life. I know our research pretty well... how hard could it be to teach how it works?

A month or two had passed, and I began to prod at when would be a good date to come up. Ken told me October... and come late October, he said Early November... which eventually turned to mid November (11/13/12). Because of budget cuts and extra days being taken out of the schedule, the class had fallen way behind. Once we settled on a date and it was a week out, I realized I had no idea what he wanted in this lecture or how long I was supposed to talk for. His latest email said that they weren't quite on science yet, but rather that I should discuss fallacies of reasoning and logic, fallacies of inductive reasoning and what we do to eliminate such fallacies.  

Well shit. I'm no Yuji when it comes to reasoning and logic. Heck, I'm not even Dan (this may be the first time I publicly concede the point that he is more logical).

However, what I lack in logic I make up for in my bull shitting skills. I would classify myself as an expert bull shitter, most likely in the top 95th percentile in the world, and this lecture wouldn't prove to be difficult to put together. Neither the students nor Ken knew anything about science, and even if I were to be telling something untrue, they likely wouldn't catch it.

The night before the presentation, I threw together a couple of words, placed some big, bold pictures in it and talked about our research. Since the point of the lecture was to inform students about logical reasoning, I made the whole story of the presentation to be "How do you know what is knowledge" i.e. how can we interpret results and science to be information.

As I gave the lecture, a few kids were little shits in the back corner, but overall there was a sense of bewilderment and curiosity. There were a lot of questions from a lot of kids (although most questions came from Ken, who in all seriousness had no idea about how science works), and I think that everyone learned a lot... or at least I hope they did. I was a little disappointed when no one in the classknew what a scientific variable was, but other than that they were engaged and were pretty on their games with all the questions I asked. Overall, it was fun returning to my Alma Mater to teach and pay it forward. I could never see myself teaching high schoolers for a living, but just for a day it was a pretty fun thing to do.

I'm on a billboard!

warning, fairly liberal use of personal opinions

Let me make one thing clear: I hate religion. I hate having conversations about it. I hate how confident billions of people in the world are about how their  God is 100% the correct one, and that everyone else is wrong. I hate that if you make a joke about it, people get offended. I hate how people use religion as a justification for their own actions. I hate how one of the candidates for the Presidency of the most powerful country in world believes that he will get his own planet after he dies (that's not a joke). But above all, I hate how religions deny factual evidence of anything in (relatively) recent discoveries just because it clashes with their beliefs.

Religion, more than anything, is a topic that annoys me to no end, and I've lived the recent years of my life avoiding talking about it whenever possible. Well, I should say I did avoid talking about it, until I found myself in a rather unique scenario after having a conversation with my dad on the phone about a month ago. The conversation went as follows

"Man, do I have a crazy story for you" My Dad tells me just seconds after I got out of bed
"What's up pops?" I replied
"So there's this conference next month with Richard Dawkins, and this group I'm a member of (the FFRF) is trying to promote their national conference."
"That's great pops..."
"No no, it gets better. So they need models for their billboards to promote their conference, and since I'm a member, I got a request. I didn't really want to do it, so I forwarded it to your brother (Brent). He replied, and they told him to come up for a photo shoot for this Weekend!"
"What the shit?"
"Yeah."
"Well, what do they think about having a pair of brothers on that billboard"
"I don't know" replied my dad "But you should ask them"

And ask them I did. Well, my brother actually asked, but I was told to come up to Portland to join in on the shoot.

We went to the shoot up in NW Portland at some guys apartment. Upon seeing the door that labeled "FFRF," indicating that we were in the right place, I kind of wanted to leave.

It's a trap

I told my brother that this looked like a prime location for a double homicide. Nonetheless, we still entered (although I went in a few feet behind him). Steve Etling was the photographer,  He was very professional, with thousands of thousands of dollars in camera equipment and a studio in his garage.

We spent maybe 2 minutes with goofy pictures and poses, a few minutes of smiling pictures, then signed a waiver and that was that.

It's been nearly a month since the photo shoot occurred, and we were told that we'd made it on a billboard. Finally, it was put up yesterday (10.10.12) at the corner of Mcglaughin and Blue Bird, in the SE Portland area.

And now we wait. Although I'm not quite sure what I'm waiting for. I don't think I'll get any criticisms or scorn from my friends or peers... I would be very surprised if I did... but I will continue to wait.

If I may quote a personal favorite of mine: "I got a poster!!!"

Road Tripping down to Stanford

Let me prepose a hypothetical situation for you:

You are given $330 for doing nothing

You must split that money with Dan Mahoney

What would you do?

As bizzarre as this may sound, this is exactly the situation that has developed over the past year. Dan and I made a YouTube video in 2011 (biking downhill at 60mph), which has accrued $330 and ~250,000 views. We've agreed to split the money, to which we decided to allocate it to something we both thoroughly enjoy. No, we didn't decide to spend it on prostitutes. Or bicycles. Or not even prostitutes on bicycles. Rather we decided to take the money to Stanford University to enjoy all that is our favorite collegiate sport: Volleyball. The #2 ranked Ducks were to play the #7 ranked Cardinal on Friday (10/5/12), and we wanted to be at this game. The plan was simple; use our hard earned YouTube dough to cover gas to Stanford, a 550 mile (9 hour) drive, while staying with Dan's college friend, Mr. Nick Haber for the weekend.  

We left Thursday at 4 pm after Dan decided that teaching his 200 level econ class was more important than leaving Eugene at a respectable time (note that he could have got a substitute to fill in for him, but just decided that he probably shouldn't without any real justification as to why). The drive was mundane, long, dark and rather sketchy at some construction sites, but we arrived safely on Stanford's campus at 1:15 am Friday morning.

Nick's Grad school dorm provided a cozy home stay for the weekend

Friday became a day of relaxation and exploration. While Nick had to get some work done, Dan and I were left to wander around campus; something I thought we have been training for for the past year or so. I would consider Dan and I expert wanderers, but I have never seen anything like Stanford's Campus in my life. The distance that campus covered was unfathomable (it's actually very fathomable at ~13 sq miles), but it felt enormous compared to the UO's 0.46 sq miles. Buildings were new, students were ethnically diverse, and everyone was on bicycles. It really is quite amazing, and Dan and I only covered a fraction of it in our wandering escapade. 

Although wandering, coffee, and lunch were exciting, they were merely a way to kill the time until the volleyball game Friday night. Erich, (a triathlon friend of mine from Eugene who currently resides in Santa Clara), Nick, Dan, Amy (another friend of Dan's) and I went to the game with with the hopes of a good game. Sure, a win would be awesome, but with news of the team being sick, we just were hoping they would play well.

Of course, I couldn't travel 550 miles without having a sign for my favorite player. I held the sign with as much pride as the guys down in the Castro District have in San Francisco, and it got a big smile out of the players during pre-game.  

Unfortunately, the Ducks lost the game in a 5 set thriller, but still an overall fun game and awesome to see us play away from home.

Although the Ducks had lost, our weekend adventure certainly did not end there. After all, this was my first time in San Francisco area, and I wanted the full experience; Saturday was sure to provide me with plenty of it.

The Golden Gate Bridge is one of the most recognizable monuments in the world, and I needed a picture in front of it. Although we couldn't find parking directly near the bridge, we went to Baker Beach to see all sorts of great sights. Our primary interest was taking pictures of the bridge, but so many other things that had been erected a long time ago were in also in the area; copious amounts of old men on the beach decided that clothes were optional rather than mandatory. Now, I'm all for optional clothing, but two 50+ year old men giving each other the "gentleman's handshake" on the beach was certainly something I didn't need to see. However, I did ask for the SF experience, and old guys tanning with their dicks hanging out sure was fitting the SF stereotype. In one particular man's case (a Chinese Tourist taking pictures of the bridge), the guy lost his shoes to the tide of the water, when he immediately decided to de-robe and dive in after them.

The man splashed himself with the cold ocean water for approximately 5 minutes, psyching himself up before taking the dive in the water to retrieve his shoes. Meanwhile, a local naked old guy decided to help out our Chinese friend by swiftly getting in the water to retrieve the shoes. Both naked men rejoiced, and the Chinese man couldn't have been more thankful. It truly was a sight to see, and they both posed for a photo for the Chinese man's friend. I can only imagine how shrivled they must have been, and I bet the Chinese man will try to explain to all of his friends about how cold the water was.

The two men posing together

But no, San Francisco had a lot more to offer than naked men and the Golden Gate Bridge. Nick, Dan and I continued to The Mission, a kind of crazy hectic side of town with great food and quite a bit of hipsters. This part of town was most similar to SE Portland, only much more dense. We overate on an amazing Mexican lunch, and continued on to explore more.

Mexican food came with a complimentary family Mariachi Band

Our next stop was Doleres Park; a seemingly endless supply of hipsters came around from every direction. Dan was visibly disturbed, as these people were the exact opposite the type of people that Dan can tolerate. Watching Dan in Doleres park was like watching a dog try to cower away from fireworks on the 4th of July, but really he had no where to run.

The view from the park. You can see a few local natives to the right of the photo.

Sensing that Dan was uncomfortable, I knew exactly where to go to lighten his spirits: the gayest part of town (The Castro).

We walked up and down a few blocks, and man was it gay. If there's anything in the city of SF that I wish for others to replicate, it's their openness and appreciation of the gay community. It was awesome to see every type of minority not give a care in the world about what others thought of their sexuality. And man oh man, were these people gay. Not only were they gay, they were actively trying to fit the stereotype of what a flamboyantly gay male should look like. There were ripped guys, there were shiny guys, there were suave guys, there were guys in matching suits, and hell, there were even more old naked guys. I wanted the full SF experience, and by the time I left the Castro, I feel like I got it. 

After some great dessert, we left the city on high spirits. We saw the Golden Gate Bridge, had amazing food, blended in with the hipsters, and saw the most flamboyantly fabulous gay men I have ever seen in my life. Overall, Saturday was a great day.

With our adventurous weekend over, Sunday was used primarily to drive us back to town. Below are a few random photos from the trip.

Myself, 5'6" and Nick, 6'5" standing back to back. I'm not quite sure why he kept his shirt off for this

In front of the Stanford Campus. 

Pre-Stanford Game

I'm sad to say that this photo was actually my idea

So much food this weekend

Post VB game dinner, with free ice cream for dessert

It's Volleyball Season

Let me make one thing clear: there are no bigger volleyball fans at the University of Oregon than I am. There's Really Old Guy, who is far creepier than I am, but not a bigger fan. And of course there is Dan Mahoney, who claims that he loves the team more without citing any factual evidence as to why, but I'm assuming that he believes this because he is louder at games while I am more reserved, and that he doesn't have family obligations obstructing him from watching any games... they just prevent him from attending parties with the coolest girls on the team (see last paragraph here). Alas, I digress from the original point. I do love this sport, enough to make signs declaring my emphatic enthusiasm for the team.

As a quick recap of this past year, the original sign I made had the intention of stating that Liz, #6, was my favorite player. The team appreciated the effort, and I appreciated the team's appreciation, and a mutual relationship had begun; I show my loyalty to the team and get the reward of knowing they love their fans. The very next game against UW, I made another sign for Liz, this time a little less blunt with a little more humor than the previous sign. The sign had a picture of Antoine Dodson, telling UW to "Hide yo kids, Hide yo wives, 'cause #6 is in the game." Although I never really talked to Liz... nor have I ever actually talked to Liz... I'm fairly certain that they still liked it.  We upset the then #7 team in the nation, and the signs kept rolling on in after that. After a few games, the team began to look in my direction as I was unveiling the next sign. Others included "Freshman of the Week? More like Freshman of the Century" (For Liz), and "#10 deserves a sign" For Savannah after we upset the National Champions.

However, last year is a thing of the past, and 2012 certainly has a different feel to it. I've had nearly 9 months to think of ideas on how to make signs this year better, and they have been thought out, drafted, discarded, rewritten and meticulously planned for the exact moment I reveal them. Lauren Gross (LG), a former player on the team and who Dan and I might* consider to be the coolest person at this University, has been more than influential; she provides key insights to the team's dynamic and lets us know who would appreciate what idea the most. I still don't quite understand why she thinks Dan and I are cool enough to talk to, but I won't argue.

To start this season off with a bang, I was inspired by the character Dug from the movie Up! In which he tells the protagonist of the film (Carl) "I have just met you and I love you." Even if you haven't seen the film, the quote is still funny and relevant to the 6 new players on the team.

The sign process begins with a yellow poster and a quick outline in pen, followed by a bold once-over in sharpie. Each sign takes approximately 40 minutes, and costs about $2.75 in the materials to make.

Outlining

Sharpie-ing

It got some good laughs, and I had the opportunity to talk to all the new players on the team. Of course, I didn't actually seize this opportunity, I more just approached them afterwords, got their autographs, and timidly walked away without really saying a word. I am not a confident man when it comes to girls on the volleyball team, so I figured staying quiet and not having them think I was creepy was probably the best idea. I have plenty more opportunities to screw things up in the future, why blow it on the first game? Regardless, the 2012 sign campaign had officially begun.

Only one player not on the sign signed the sign. I didn't have the heart to stop her.

To note, the first sign of the season narrowly beat out Dan's proposed idea of how we should start it.  I have only used one of Dan's ideas to date, as they are usually pretty terrible. This one, however, may have been the best idea he has ever had:

This needs no explanation, but man is it funny. Of course, we would never actually make this sign. The players would be legitimately distracted from the game, the underlying message is rather derogatory (albeit funny), and I don't think that everyone would get it. That being said, it is undoubtedly Dan's best idea to never be used.

For the 2nd game, I decided to tone back the humor a bit with much more blunt and straightforward sign. Dan and I had the honor of sitting with LG for the latter part of the game, during which we presented our newest ideas and checked in on how the team was really doing. For the 2nd sign, My idea was straightforward; state that Lauren Plum (LP) is the best at what she does. LP has been not only one of the best players in the country, but also one of the nicest and friendliest people on the team (to me at least). However, I was a little pessimistic about the sign and I was timid to hold it up during the game. Not that the message is bad, but the writing and letters are merged which makes it a bit difficult to read, the subjectivity of the statement lingers in the back of my mind (although she will most likely be an All American this year, which she more then deserves, it's hard to say that she is THE best) and the sign is just not very funny... humor is what I usually use as a crux for all of my other sign ideas. However, she (LP) did like it, which is what really matters. I approached her after the game for a photo op. Because of the serious nature of the sign, I asked Lauren "Can we be super serious in this photo?"
"Super serious?" She replied.
"Yes, super serious. No smiling."
"Alright, let's do it."

To make one thing clear, while Dan was fumbling around with his camera, I had the full intention of being super serious. It only dawned on me within the last second before the photo was taken to actually smile... because, well, it would be really funny.

Turns out is was really funny

The most amazing thing about this photo is that Lauren was actually attentive enough to catch my smile in her periphery, even though I was standing nearly perpendicular to her line of sight. She demanded that we take an actual happy picture.

Next is a sign for Liz, #6. I can't abandon her as my favorite and go-to sign player. It's not going to be very funny, but this is entirely planned. After 2 blunt and mediocre signs (including this one with LP), I plan to make what will easily be the best sign I have ever made for any sporting event ever**. It is entirely deserving of it's own explanation and blog post, and I look forward to that more than anything this volleyball season.

*(read "might" as "definitely")

**jpjpjp

Eugene Celebrating

First off, I apologize to my 2... no... 3 loyal readers, as I haven't posted in quite some time. My life has been consistently mundane as of late. That is, until this weekend, where I was able to combine multiple exciting events into 4 jam packed days; each worthy of it's own blog post. So without further ado, I give you the full (uncensored) recap of the most exciting weekend of my life (in the past 4 weeks).

The Eugene Celebration Road Race is the last big race of the year, and I've been looking to complete in it for quite some time. Because this race is so late in the year, I've always been burnt out by the time it comes around. Last year (2011), I begrudgingly participated in it, only to get dropped in the road race and to stop to pick black berries during the time trial; completely overtrained and apathetic. This year, however, was a little different. Because of what is now known as the Bolivia Incident, I was unable to train seriously for almost 2 months, which allowed me to not be burnt out come August and actually look forward to racing. For those of you that don't know, the Eugene Celebration consists of a 5k uphill time trial (go up a hill as fast as you can), a 57 mile Road Race, a 15 mile flat time trial, and a 45 minute criterium race. The person with the lowest time overall wins the entire race.

The Mcbeth Hill Climb: Being a smaller guy, I should be able to get up a hill pretty quickly, right? Well, no. Wrong. For some reason (the reason being that I'm slow) I was able to put in a sub par 13:00 hill climb, placing me 23rd out of 38 riders (the winner was around 11:20 to get up that same hill). This was nothing spectacular, and there is no excuse at why I'm as slow as I was. Alas, I digress. My legs turned out to give a much better showing the next 2 days of racing.

Finishing the uphill climb in a world of pain

Briggs Hill Road Race: I've ridden this course more times than I can count, and this definitely gave me a slight edge over the other riders. My goal was to be like a Milford Man, and boy would I have made Lucille Bluth proud. The course consisted of two climbs, with the main being Briggs hill; a 5 minute climb riddled with cutbacks and steep grades. I knew were the potholes were, I knew when to surge, when to hide and when to drop back. But most importantly, I knew to be patient. No one knew of my existence until the 2nd lap (each lap being ~18.5 miles, 3 laps total), when the field started to fracture up Briggs into groups of 3s and 4s. Feeling rather opportunistic, I decide to go a bit harder and crescent over the hill in the lead 5 riders, with the #1 and #2 GC riders being the two of the very few guys in front of me. We were off the front for about a mile and a half, but everything quickly came back together on the descent, and I faded to the back with a newfound confidence in my climbing legs. During lap 3, a group of 5 snuck off to join up with a solo rider (making the total 6). This didn't concern me too much, as the #1 and 2 GC guys were still in my group and I just decided to sit in and be patient until the final climb, I knew I could keep up with them over it. Once there, the group started to thin out immediately, and the pace ramped. I looked up ahead and witnessed the 1 and 2 guy sneak off the front at the base of the climb, but (sadly) I was wedged in between 2 riders and had no way to jump around. Everyone around me was fading, as rider after rider kept falling off the pace at the front, and there was no semblance of a field. I, however, was having a blast and feeling the best I ever had in a race; I was able to crest 3rd wheel over. I could undoubtedly been in the front, but there with the descent, I figured it was best to let others work. On the way down, about 6 of us started to work well together to catch the (now) lead 8 riders. Unfortunately though, our group got a little too big for our own good (possibly 12) by the end; not everyone was taking pulls through, and we ended up about 6 seconds away from catching the lead 8. I placed 16th on the day... I still suck at sprinting.

Post race, I stayed well hydrated and drove the lead car for the masters field. Well, I actually stayed a little too hydrated; by lap 2/3 I started to feel a quite strong urge to urinate, and by lap 3 I was on the verge of unleashing the wrath of my bladder in to my car. You know when you have to pee, and it's like a surgey kind of pain and you're fighting your bladder to control it? I'd consider that a 9/10 (with 10/10 pissing yourself). I was around a 9.7. Man, did I really have to go, but the race would be over in 35 minutes, and I kept telling myself I could definitely make it. Well, I did eventually make it, and when I found my way to the port-a-potty I decided to time how long of a stream I could hold. It turns out, I peed for 46 seconds CONSISTENTLY! 46 seconds without letting the stream break! And this was a strong stream, too. This was truly my finest moment of the day. I just had to let you know how accomplished I felt after.

I would also like to take just a quick paragraph  of my post to tell you about how Dan Mahoney forgot his cycling shoes for the 2nd time in as many years as we've gone to this race. I know it doesn't sound very funny when hearing this news, but I really just want to point out how stupid he should feel for forgetting his shoes, and that I will (most likely) never let him live this down.

Coburg 15mile TT: The Time Trial has been the bane of my existence ever since I started riding bicycles. I've never been powerful, consistent, or fast. Three things that are crucial to being good. This time, however, I wanted to make sure there was no excuse as to why I was slow. I put Alex Wentz's TT wheels on Tiffany, and committed 100% to doing the best I could.

Tiffany's lookin good

The details of the Time Trial are rather boring, I had to swerve over the double yellow line to avoid some geese, I got blown around a little bit, but overall I did fairly well. I averaged just over 25.00 mph and PR'd by over 1m30s. I placed 17th in the 3s (again, nothing spectacular), but being a mediocre time trialist is actually MUCH better than what I've been in the past. I'd actually say I'm the proudest of this result more than any other this weekend.

The Criterium: Holy shitballs was that sketchy. The race wasn't terribly fast, but it had lots of surges and consistently had near-crashes. I've been spoiled by racing with the 1/2s with how fluid and fast they are, but this race truly made me uncomfortable. We cornered 4 wide at points, people would hit their brakes pretty hard, and surge back. I almost lapped wheels twice (both because I was forced outside by the rider inside of me taking a shit line). I was never comfortable in this race unless I was on the front. I attacked maybe 3 times, but each time the GC leader hopped on my wheel. I'm not sure why... I was around 16th overall, but maybe he sensed the sketchyness as well.
The race ended with my rolling in as far back as possible without losing any time (somewhere around 25th?), and overall very pleased with my mediocre results.

The best part of this weekend though, was not the race; it was what I got to come home to after the race. I was asked to house sit in a beautiful home with two drop dead gorgeous dogs. One Golden Retriever (who I call pup), and another Labradoodle (named Gus). The house is amazing, but taking care of dogs is the best thing I could ask for. Here is a picture of them.

Pup

Another of Pup

Gus, who vaguely looks like a mop in this shot

It's been a really good weekend.

California Dreamin'

While the majority of my lab is down partying and getting appendectomies in Bolivia, I decided to plan out a week long vacation to visit the family up in Portland followed by the rekindling of the friendship with a long lost pal of mine, Scott Moll. Scott and I were friends throughout our Freshman year in the dorms (until he decided to transfer away from Oregon), however we've done a surprisingly good job at remaining close through social media and text message. As recently as July 2nd, Scott sent a text asking me to come down California, to which I responded "For how long?" I hadn't much better to do, and escaping the work place for a few days to spend some time in Santa Barbara sounded like a perfect idea. We both decided that 5 days would be enough (Wednesday through Sunday), and I booked the tickets a month in advance.


Fast forward to the day of the flight; I arrive at the Burbank Airport at 9:20 am. Scott, however, arrives at the Burbank Airport at 10:50 am. So we're off to a rough start (turns out he slept in) but that's ok, I was just glad to see a close friend of mine for the first time in 3 years. 

"What's the plan?" I ask Scott. Scott shrugs his shoulders; turns out we don't really have one. 

"Well, alright then, I'm good with whatever." 

We get on the freeway headed north in the direction of Santa Barbara, only to take a (rather surprising) exit to head to Simi Valley, California; a suburban sprawl of a city with very little if anything entertaining to do. It turns out that this is where Scott is currently living (not Santa Barbara as I had previously thought), and this is where I'd be staying for my trip. Another minor miscommunication, but I thought  "that's ok, we're only 40 minutes away from the beach. This can still be fun." Scott drops me off at his house only to have to leave for work for the rest of the day (until 7 pm)... kind of lame, but I remain cautiously optimistic. As the day wore on and I was trapped alone in his house, optimism turned in to boredom which turned in to a little annoyance. But I figured Thursday would be better, as we've had a month to plan this out. 

Turns out I was wrong. Once Scott returned that night, I asked what the plan for Thursday was; working between 8 am and 7 pm, and leave me in his house without a car or anyway to get anywhere. This was the plan for Friday too. I don't have anyway or how to get to eat lunch, and the plan is to leave me in a house for almost 12 hours by myself. This is when I realize I have to leave, and leave I did.
The Thursday morning sun rose, and with it came a plan to escape Simi Valley (mind you with no car or anything but clothes in my backpack). I walked around the neighborhood and asked an old woman how to get to the coast if I had nothing but my feet for transportation. Turns out there was an Amtrak Station only 2 miles from where I was staying, so I packed my bags and walked through the California Valley; determined to restore the adventurous vacation I previously thought I was going to have. I boarded a train to Ventura, California with no idea or care of where I was staying that night, but it was better than being in a vegetative state in a house that felt more like a prison than anything. Scott also failed to mention how or what I was supposed to have for breakfast/lunch, he had 3 other roommates of which I didn't want to steal any of their food. I survived solely on delicious Milano cookies until 2 pm; my arrival in Ventura. 

Breakfast and Lunch

Leaving turned out to be the greatest decision of the trip, as Ventura was actually a magnificent town. Great coffee, great views, a hotel for relatively cheap being 2 blocks away from the coast (109 a night), and everyone was friendly. The weather was lovely, I walked around the entire town and had nothing to complain about. I probably walked upwards of 13 miles on Thursday; all in the spirit of adventure. 

My surprisingly cheap hotel room

The entire town

Filming for some tv show was happening on the beach

But no, the adventure didn't stop there. I originally set out on this trip to intending to see Santa Barbara, and by golly I was going to see it. The next day, I packed up my backpack and did the whole thing over again; this time boarding the train for Santa Barbara. I called around for a hotel while I was on the train, and booked a super crappy one for cheap in Goleta, CA, which was only 5 miles away from SB by public bus.

My savior

Friday night accomidations

Friday was spent nearly all day out and about along the streets and coast of Santa Barbara, ending with dinner and a movie (Brave, I'd give it a B-). Santa Barbara is also a great town, although much more touristy than Ventura, with more spoiled 17-year-olds than I've ever seen in my life. The sun, coast and atmosphere sure was welcoming. 

I called my Aunt on Friday (she's located in Pasadena) and asked her what she was up to ; turns out she was not only free, but also that she was going to the same airport at the same time that my flight was to fly out of to head home. This was a beautiful coincidence. I spent another half day in SB before boarding the train down to Los Angeles and taking the metro over to Pasadena, where I spent a day and a half relaxing with my Aunt.

Overall, it was one of the most adventurous trips I have ever taken, mostly because I had no idea where I was going to sleep the night I was traveling. And I must say, Scott really had a shit plan for me to come in... I'm still not quite sure why he told me to stay for 5 days when there was clearly nothing to do and nearly no way to entertain myself. Because of this, I was able to spend a significant amount of time being completely independent of everything and realize how well off I'm doing on my own. I would not have been able to do this even a year ago with as much confidence as I had. Living in the real world has really affected the way I look at things, and it showed on this trip.

I definitely don't regret making the trip out. It was fun, unique, and beautiful at the same time. I wish I could have spent more time with Scott, but he really dropped the ball on this one. I have no hard feelings, and I'd still say hi to him in the future, but odds of me visiting again are 0. 

A weekend away from it all

I decided to take a break this past weekend from the monotony of gmailing Dan and riding bikes to go on a 2 day backpacking trip to Waldo Lake, situated in Central Oregon. Don't get me wrong, I like gmailing Dan and going on bike rides, but every so I feel as if I should change it up. The plan was simple; do nothing but enjoy the great outdoors, poop in holes that I was to dig out with a shovel, and possibly get some sun on parts of my body that otherwise have been obstructed by cycling clothing. We (3 girls and myself) drove up Friday afternoon to Waldo lake, which prides itself as one of the clearest lakes in the nation, with over 100 feet of depth visibility due to pure snow run off.  A group of 4 was to join us later that night, which consisted of 3 guys I didn't know as well as one other girl that I had briefly met before, bringing our total to 8 people. We were to backpack in the Friday night (not terribly far away from the car), hike quite a bit away on Saturday, spend the night as far away from civilization as possible, and return on Sunday. That was the plan, and it went mostly according to schedule, but of course there were many things unaccounted for.

For example, did you know that Waldo lake has one of the highest concentrations of mosquitoes in the Oregon? I didn't. And I found this out the hard way. Pulling in to the campground, Ashlin (my Alaskan friend) opened the door and immediately let in over 15 mosquitoes in to the car. Within maybe 8 seconds we shut the door and realized the amount of trouble that these insects would cause. Luckily, I recently went to REI and purchased 98% deet spray (in comparison, OFF! is approximately 8% deet), to ward off the bugs, but I could not apply that carcinogen fast enough before I suffered ~10 bites. Balls. And it's not that I was conservative with this spray either; I applied it everywhere that I could reach, but there were so many mosquitoes that they would end up in the smallest of spots that I missed;  their main target being my shoulder blades and sides of feet. 

Once we had coped with the skeetos and set up camp the first night, it was finally time to appreciate the view and enormity of the landscape we were in. It sure was beautiful, and virtually no one else near us the first night (mostly due to people knowing about the bug issue)  made it all that much more pretty. 

The other group of 4 joined us just before sundown. Smores were made, beers were had, and we were all feeling pretty excited to go hike the next day. Quite a bit of that icky sticky stuff was smoked that night as well (I was the only one that didn't partake), but we'll get to more of that later.

Waking up for day 2, we were instantly greeted by mosquitoes hanging on the edge of our tent. The 8% OFF spray had absolutely no effect on them, and many of them seized the opportunity before I could get more of the real deet on myself. Once packed, we planned our route and took off for what seemed to be somewhere between a 7-9 mile backpack. The other 7 partook in some more Mary J that morning, and we were off by 10:00 am.

The hike was a quick pace, until we reached the first of many hills. The percent grade was somewhere around 20% if I were to guess, which caused some mild discomfort, but allowed us to take a break while grabbing some food and smoking some more (count up to 3). We were at ~6000 feet elevation, which surprisingly still had some snow on the ground, and quite a bit on the trail we were on. 
After about 6 miles and some decent pitches and one more smoke break (4), we reached a sign that indicated we were going the right direction, but the trail was extremely difficult. No problem for us 8 athletic 20-something-year-olds.

Just kidding. I failed to get any pictures of how steep this pitch was due to my intent focus on not falling down it. The trail was covered in approximately 85% snow and somewhere in the 30-35% pitch range for maybe a mile. Downed trees provided a false sense of solid footing, as if you were to step inches to the side of one, your foot would sink through the top layer of snow and you would fall flat on your face.

This was on the easier section. No pictures were taken during the 30-35% portion of the hike. 

Isn't it mid July?

We eventually reached Island Lakes in total isolation. No one or thing is anywhere near us, and we decide this is where we were camping for the night. We drop off our stuff, threw our food in the snow to cool it, and the group decides to smoke quite a bit more (#'s 5/6/7). We soak up the rays, swam in the 2°C water, and relaxed for the rest of the day. The evening was filled with wieners on sticks, more smoking (#s 8/9/10?) and some good ol fashioned game of cards. No computers, no cell phones, no Dan. 

Final location

Fun place for a swim

Logistical wiener spiral cutting. Able to cook thoroughly.

It also holds your condiments (in this case, avocado) in place

We went to bed with a false presumption of solitude. However, it turned out a little critter decided to pay Carrie a visit that night (she slept under the stars), and took a nice little chunk out of her foam sleeping pad. 

That couldn't have tasted too good

After a solid nights sleep, the dawn of the third day rose and the adventurous tone had slightly dimmed down, but moral remained high. Not as high as half of the people on the trip, but still pretty high (they had #'s 11 and 12 in the morning). Everyone remained friendly throughout the trip, regardless of bugs, chaffage of many sorts and locations, and the wear and tear from the weight of the backpacks. We hiked down the 35% slopes at a record pace, and covered the 8 miles back in approximately 3 hours.

The entire group

Once back in the car,  we analyzed the damage of the mosquitoes and sun, had a good laugh and were ready to head off.  Our last visit on the trip was to the Oregon Lava Fields, which occured ~6000 years ago (dangerously close to around the time the Earth was created, but it checked out). 

Life uh, finds a way

Lava overwhelmed a tree 6000 years ago, leaving this hollow shell once it crusted around it.

The trip ended with a beer from a local brewery, an Elk burger, and a content smile, knowing that I would return soon to my monotonous life of research, bike riding, and gmail chat. 

Oregon Volleyball Posters: Off To A Bad Start

Last year (2011), Oregon Volleyball decided to make what might have been the worst volleyball poster in the history of the sport. In summary, the overlying message of the poster was that distinct and unique characteristics (no matter how positive or negative they may be) do not define the players on our team. Height truly does not define Haley, who is ~5'3. Long legs do not define Alaina, who is 6'3. Swagger doesn't define Lauren Plum, although she has an awful lot of it. And certainly a 4.0 doesn't define Katherine Fisher, who's a First-Team All Academic American. No, rather it is victory that defines these tremendous individuals. Let us now take a step back and disregard that the poster is essentially one half of someone's face with a photoshopped O for an iris, and that you can't actually read the wording on the left side of the poster with the dark gray on black writing, and definitely don't pay attention to the fact that you can hardly tell that the poster is for volleyball. Put all of those things aside, and realize that the poster is still essentially stating that a 4.0 GPA is a less defining characteristic of an athlete than winning the game she plays. Why knowledge and hard work off the court can't co-exist with victory, I'm not quite sure. Overall, it sent a pretty terrible message to the fans (especially the children, to whom most of the posters go to) while leaving out the main point of any athletic poster: that the sport that they're promoting is awesome.

However, this is all old news to almost all of my readers, and you've all certainly been thinking the same thing as I have; there's no way that this years poster could be worse than lasts. At least, that's what I was thinking, until the Oregon Duck's Facebook page let out a preview of one of our 2012 posters. Have a look. 

Alright, so let's see what we're working with. First off, there are two Alaina's, immediately capturing the attention of anyone who glances at the poster. She's Miss Oregon USA and Volleyball Player; the poster is already doing a better job than last year's by telling us what sport she actually plays. Now hmmm... what's this in the middle? With these two Alaina's on one poster, I'm pretty sure you don't need anything else , but let's take a closer look.

"If you think that the world's a stage,

And all the men and women are merely players, 

you haven't met my team"

I'm going to let you go back up and read that again. Have you read it twice yet? If so, your face should have the same kind of inquisitive look on it as if one of your best friends just told you that their favorite band was Nickelback. I've read that  quote perhaps 20 times and haven't quite made sense of it yet, but I will interpret it to the best of my ability: the poster is implying that our volleyball players aren't merely players, they're other things as well, for example, Miss Oregon. Oh, and fuck Shakespeare. (I can't make any other sense of it than that). Why couldn't the poster just stop at 2 pictures of Alaina??? It had everything I needed until I read that quote!

Of course, the most ironic part of it all is that the poster is stating that Alaina is more than just an athlete. She's someone outside of the realm of the world's stage: she does beauty pageants. Yes, the same pageants where the women are put up on a stage for the world to see. I don't think the marketing team really quite knew what the metaphor of "the world's stage" and "players" meant... and even if they didn't, even if they stopped to think for one second in the case of Alaina (the athlete they're highlighting), SHE'S STILL LITERALLY PUT ON THE STAGE AS A PLAYER FOR THE WORLD TO SEE. In Shakespeare's original quote, "players" doesn't mean that they're literally athletes playing a game. And even if it did, even if it meant they were always competing, in the case of Alaina's two pictures (volleyball and pageantry), she literally is a player. I know reading Shakespeare is hard to interpret when you're a freshman in high school, but marketing truly did a terrible job at this one.

Kurt, from Facebook, put it best: "I'm not following the Shakespeare reference. Athletes (and pageant contestants) are certainly players on a stage for our entertainment. What else do they think they are?"

To which the Duck's page replied: @kurt:  Winners.

Kurt: Win or lose, they play. So they're players. And the volleyball court is their stage. Still don't get it, but not going to worry about it. Oh, well.

Kurt certainly is a bigger man than I, as his argument is quite logical (and he understands the metaphor), yet he is still willing to drop the subject. Hat's off to you, Kurt.

I realized that I left out the most critical question; why is this poster attacking the quote of a man that wrote it over 400 years ago? What was going through the mind of the person who thought of this? Why did they chose a well known, well loved Shakespeare quote?  They could have as easily gone with:

"If you think a rose by any other name,
would smell as sweet,
you haven't met my team"

It still would have made just as much sense. 

Overall, I'd say this poster is better than last years; we can appreciate all of Alaina (rather than half of her face), know what sport she plays, and it doesn't dismiss the academic success of #12. Still, I'd give it a solid F, especially since they had the potential to make it so much better.