48 Hours in Panama...Part Three

I am amazed that 48-hours could result in three, and possibly four blog posts...I guess I am just long-winded!  Anyway...if you have somehow stumbled upon this blog, I would recommend going back to Part One, and getting the full story...otherwise, it may not make a whole-lotta sense.

So...we arrived safe and sound in Panama, Scott and I that is...Tanis however, was left in Phoenix.  We did find out, shortly before we left Houston, that she was able to get a flight on another carrier, and would be arriving in Panama later that night.  That meant our whole team would be intact for the delivery of the program to Adidas!

As we exited the plane, the first thing I noticed was the humidity.  I felt much like the Caribbean...and smelled like it to.  Those of you who have traveled to the Tropics know what I am talking about...there is that smell...it's not a bad smell...just different.  An odor that results from the amount of moisture that is in the air...I like it...it brings back great memories of past trips to the Caribbean.  We made our way to baggage claim to pick up the testing equipment that had been checked...then on to Customs.  Those of you who travel internationally know that Customs is somewhat of a crap-shoot.  It can either go really smoothly...or it can go...well, let's call it 'un-smooth'.  Fortunately, this time was very smooth...no problems...just a quick glance at the passport photo, followed by a quick glance at me, followed by the loud 'thwack' of the rubber stamp as it made it's indelible mark inside me passport.  Customs...done.

We quickly found our driver holding a sign that read ADIDAS...good thing I wasn't alone...I would have been looking for a sign that read TIGNUM.  Scott however, was quick to make the connection, and soon we were on our way to the hotel...and not just any hotel.  We were staying in the Trump Tower in Panama City! Not bad for my first Tignum program!

Not a bad looking hotel huh?

As we drove from the airport to the hotel, the first thing I noticed were the buses.  Many of the buses in Panama city are run privately...as opposed to the 'city-run' transportation that I am used to in Phoenix.  These private buses were decorated with murals and bright lights, making them quite the attraction.

Check out this video of the buses! 

One of the buses in the daylight...pretty amazing!

We arrived at the hotel and were escorted through the ground floor lobby, up to the registration desk on the 12th floor...that's right...registration was on the 12th floor!  The hotel was beautifully appointed, and had amazing views of both the city, and the Panama coastline.

Ground-floor Lobby artwork

 My room was located on the 27th floor...and in typical firefighter fashion, I made mental notes of where the nearest fire escapes (stairwells) were located, and thought about what I might have to do to get there in the case of a fire or other emergency.  Once again...welcome to my world!  As I entered the elevator, I noticed the amazing view of the city as I ascended quickly to my floor....pretty breathtaking at night!  Unfortunately, I couldn't get a clear photo of the view at night, but the next morning I was able to get the shot below...a great view!

View from the elevator

I entered the room with a quick swipe of the key card, and was greeted by automatic lighting that turned on the instant I stepped into the room.  The room was beautiful, and I immediately felt bad that I was here alone...without Donna...so I quickly took pictures of the room to share with her.

Nice Tub!  It even has mood lights on the floor!

I quickly unpacked, and headed down a few floors to meet up with Scott for some dinner.  We ate at one of the restaurants in the hotel...a tapas place...imagine that!  The food was great, and the views were awesome from the patio...what's wrong with this picture?  Here I am eating great food, and drinking nice wine on the patio of an amazing hotel...with Scott.  Don't get me wrong...Scott's a great guy, be he doesn't hold a candle to my wife!  Tanis arrived around 10pm, and we quickly got to work, preparing for the next morning.

If you are still interested in how this little adventure of mine ended up...you'll need to keep visiting!  I can see at least  two more posts before this thing is wrapped up and put to bed!

48 Hours in Panama...Part Two

So now you know who Tignum is...what they do...and why I am working with them.  Now let's talk about the trip.

I was scheduled to fly out of Phoenix at around 830 Friday morning.  Like usual, I didn't sleep well...thinking about the adventure that lie ahead.  I had been going over video clips of the exercises...sorry, movements...that I would be teaching, for the past few days.  I wanted to have them dialed-in so that I could teach them proficiently, and not look like it was the first time I had ever taught them.  Many of the movements are similar to those that I use with my athletes and firefighters however, there are some minor differences, and I wanted to make sure I had the explanations down.  Unfortunately I was unable to turn off those video files in my head...they were being looped in my mind, over and over again as I tried desperately to sleep.  Let's just say they never really turned off...not until I gave up and at around 430, at which point I was officially awake.  Somewhere during the night, I think I managed to get in at least an hour or two...welcome to my life!

The Airport...

Donna drove me to the airport...and kicked me to the curb...OK, not really.  She did however, drop me curbside, gave me kiss, and drove away.  There may have been a few hugs, and maybe a kiss or two more than I just described...but that's not terribly important to this story.  Nice...welcomed...but none the less, relatively unimportant to the story.  I take that back...it's actually very important.  Thanks for the wonderful send-off my dear wife!

I believe I have divulged this information before, but for those who may not have been privy to it, or those who just started reading this blog...I am a chronic over-packer...yep, that's right.  I believe it to be a sickness...one of which I am victim to.  I actually Googled chronic over-packer and was quite relieved to find that there is a great deal of information out there...which I believe means that I am certainly not alone in my illness. There are others like me...infected with the need to be prepared (clothing-wise) for whatever may come our way.  Believe me...when I pack...I'm prepared, heavily so!  This particular trip however, would be different.  I had vowed to not check any luggage...that's right...nada, zilch, zero checked bags!  

Some of you may be thinking "Why would you make your very first trip with no checked bags, and international one?"  That's how I roll!  The fact that I would only be in Panama for roughly 48 hours probably had something to do with it.  Additionally, knowing that roughly 90% of my time in Panama would be spent indoors, wearing Adidas gear emblazoned with the Tignum logo, also may have had something to do with my new found confidence.  Whatever the reason, or reasons...I was streamlined...a first for me, and man was is liberating!

I felt like a well seasoned traveler as I checked in at the ticket counter, proudly answering "NO" when asked if I would be checking any bags...the ticket agent even said "Impressive".  I was feeling good...streamlined.  Okay...maybe not streamlined due to the fact that now, instead of just carrying the typical backpack...I was lugging around a duffel bag with four days worth of clothes.  Hey...I didn't say I had stopped over-packing...I just didn't check any bags!

breeezed through security (by the way, I meant to add the extra 'e' in breeze for effect!) without a hitch...in fact there were only two others clearing security when I arrived...nice!  This afforded me plenty of time to grab a little something to eat, and relax before my flight.  The remainder of the Tignum team (Scott and Tanis) were scheduled to leave about an hour after me.  We would be meeting up in Houston, where we would travel together to Panama.  Knowing this, I was surprised to see the two of them standing at my gate when I arrived.  Apparently, their flight had either been delayed or cancelled...I can't remember...so they were hoping to get on as stand-by passengers on my flight.  Scott told me that there was a chance that they might not get to Panama until the following morning...which, by the way was supposed to be 'testing day' with the Adidas group (more on testing later).  He informed me that if they did not make this flight, I would need to gather up all of the luggage (which contained all of the equipment for the program) and take it to the hotel.  He also told me there would be a driver waiting to pick me up.  

On the outside, my seasoned, veteran firefighter voice said "Sure, no problem...I'll take care of it".  Inside however, another voice was saying "GREAT...my first program, and there are problems...and we haven't left the airport yet!"  Thankfully my years of managing chaotic, stressful situations as a firefighter allowed me to ratchet down, stop spinning, and just deal with it...no problem.  All would be good, and they could count on my to do what ever was necessary...after all...I'm a professional (when you read that, you should say it the way the parking garage attendant said it in the movie Ferris Bueller's Day Off).

I boarded the plane, settled into my seat, and moments later saw Scott walking down the aisle toward me.  Apparently he had been given the one and only standby seat...Tanis was stuck.  Tanis, by the way, is the Project Manager...and a very vital part of the Tignum team.  Scott said she would not be in Panama until the next morning, and that we would have to run the program by ourselves until she arrived.  Alright...things were looking up.  Don't get me wrong...I'm not saying it was okay that Tanis got left behind...I'm just saying that it was a bit of a relief knowing that at least Scott would be there.  Like I said...things were looking up.

We touched down, with a puff of smoke from the tires making contact with the tarmac (I am assuming there was a little smoke...that's the way it always is in the movies anyway) and the sudden deceleration of the air-brake flaps deployed from the wings.  Moments later we arrived at the gate in Houston.  Two and 30-minutes later, we were heading for Panama.

During the flight to Panama I was seated one aisle behind the bulkhead seating.  On Continental Airlines, those seats, as well as those located in the emergency exit rows, are considered premium seats...meaning passengers pay extra to sit in them.  Well...once the doors were closed, it was apparent that not all of the premium seats had been taken.  I politely asked the flight attendant if I could move seats, since there were plenty still open.  Her reply..."feel free to move to any open seat".  I asked...again, very politely, if I could move to one of the seats in the bulkhead row.  The look I received was priceless!  It was as if I had asked to sit in first-class.  She promptly replied "Well NO, you cant sit in those seats...people pay extra for them".  I replied by saying "But clearly no one is going to be sitting in them, so it shouldn't matter."  She flashed me one of those looks that said "We don't have a problem...do we?"  I decided not to push the issue...and just smiled back, turning away so as not to have to look at her smug little smirk anymore...otherwise we might have had a problem!

May I sit there?

Uh...of course not...it's PREMIUM seating...stupid!

The remainder of the flight was uneventful, other than the plethora of crying babies scattered throughout coach seating.  Again...welcome to my life.

Tune in again to read about the remainder of the trip, and how the program with the Adidas Executives went...

48 Hours in Panama...Part One

Alright, I'll be the first (and only) to admit that this blog post has absolutely nothing to do with race preparation...I was simply too lazy to develop a new blog for just one post, and I certainly was not going to change the title or layout of my current blog just to suit my desire to write about my travels!  That's just me...

Those of you who know me well, know that I have been in the process of becoming a Movement Coach for a cutting edge company called Tignum.  What you may not know is who Tignum is...or what Tignum does.  So let me quickly explain...

Tignum is the brainchild of a very good friend of mine...Scott Peltin...whom I originally met when he was put in charge of handling aspects of the tragic, on-duty death of my great friend (and fellow firefighter) Brett Tarver.  A year or so later, I had the opportunity to get to know Scott better during a firefighter fitness trainer class that he was instructing.  Scott and I developed a friendship over the years while he was still working as a Battalion Chief for the Phoenix Fire Department, and he quite graciously 'opened some doors' for me in the fitness and performance world.  

Scott retired from the fire service a few years back, after developing a 'first of its kind' business, that targets high-performers in the corporate world.  Tignum's model is similar to that which is applied to high performance athletes...providing them with specific tools that allow them to sustain levels of high performance.  I have tried to tell friends and family about this business in the past, and they typically respond by saying "Oh, it's a wellness company...that's a great fit for you".  "Well yes...it's a great fit...but no, it is not a wellness company" is my typical response.  You see, wellness companies focus on getting employees of various organizations to lose weight, decrease cholesterol, improve general health, etc.  The goal of a wellness company is really not about the employee...its about saving the company money by decreasing the costs associated with poor employee health.

Tignum however, is highly focused on the performance of the individual...or team of individuals, who are engaged in critical, often high-stress projects.  They identify these individuals as the critical one-percenters...and they are typically high-level executives of some of the largest and most productive companies around the world.  Thus Tignum's goal is to increase the potential and performance level of individuals or teams, that ultimately affect the performance of the company as a whole.

Imagine that your job (many of you don't need to imagine this...this is your job) requires a great deal of travel, high pressure situations, negotiations, presentations, etc.  How would you (or do you) prepare yourself for these day in and day out high-stress, high-pressure situations?  Are you on top of your game each and every time you are engaged in a negotiation or critical presentation?  Do you eat for performance?  Did you know that what you eat prior to a meeting...or how hydrated you are...or if you have had any exercise/movement prior to your meeting...or if you are well-rested, can have a huge impact on your performance?  This is where Tignum comes into play...it is about performance...not wellness.

So just where do I fit into this picture?  I know what you are thinking...believe me, I have thought it myself.  You are thinking "you don't have any experience in business...let alone big business"...and you are correct...I don't.  What I do have however, is over twenty-years of experience in high-pressure, chaotic, life or death situations that require me to be at my best, at a moment's notice.  To be able to direct and lead teams of highly specialized individuals during times of utter chaos, where success is measured not in profit or loss, but life or death...hmmm.  I also possess a high level of knowledge in the realm of human performance, and movement...which just so happens to be one of the foundations of the Tignum system...movement.

So there you have it...the who and what.  Now let's talk about the why...why I was in Panama, that is.

Over the past year, I have been being developed as a presenter and coach, through Tignum's coach-development training program.  This has been an eye-opening experience for me in a number of ways.  You see, I have been involved in teaching, training, and coaching for a number of years now.  I have developed the ability to comfortably speak and present before small and (relatively) large audiences, and consider myself to be one of the 'better' speakers and presenters within the fire service...at least the ones that I have had the opportunity to see over the years.  I am not trying to brag...just setting the stage for what I am about to tell you.  Being approached to become part of the Tignum team was, in and of itself, a huge honor for me, as they present to, and coach some heavy hitters in the business world.  Tignum's clients have high expectations, thus Tignum places even higher expectations on members of their team, refusing to put just anyone in front of their clients. 

What have I learned about my skills since being selected to participate in development training?  I have learned that, while I may be better than average in the fire service...I still need a great deal of training to hone my presentation skills for the level of clientele that Tignum caters to.  Understanding and accepting this has been a challenge...a hit to my ego, to be quite honest.  It has been a little painful...but what challenge worth taking on, isn't a little painful?

I am still in the development process with Tignum...I am not yet ready to be part of the presentation team, but I do however, possess the ability to participate in the testing process, as well as the teaching process of the Tignum program...hence my invitation to participate in their most recent program in Panama...working with a team of high level executives from Adidas' Latin America team.

Stay tuned for Part Two of this story...and find out just how it went!

12-Hours Completed!

Okay, the title might be a bit deceiving, so let me explain...

The race itself was a 12-Hour race.  The goal of any 12-Hour race is to complete as many laps as possible during that 12-hour period of time.  I finished my last lap at 10 hours, 51 minutes...and 56 seconds.  Which means that I could have turned one more lap within that 12 hour time frame...but I didn't.

My goal was to complete 10 laps...I completed 11...finishing 28th out of 48 competitors in my division. Once again however, I fall victim to NO AGE BRACKETING...oh well.  I am very happy with those results, but I think I can do better next time.  In fact, next year I am shooting for 15! (Don't tell Donna...she doesn't know this yet!) 

Now let me tell you how the day went...

First of all, I took the last twelve hours of my shift off from the fire department.  I did this so that I would have plenty of rest within the 36 hours prior to the race.  I ate well, following a modified carb-loading protocol over the three days prior to raceday.  I had a good high-carb dinner Friday night, and even managed to NOT drink any wine...I didn't want a repeat episode of my race in Prescott!  I hit the rack early, as I would need to be up by 3:45 am in order to eat and get to the race venue by 5:00 am to get 'camp' set up.  You see, I was sharing my spot in 'solo alley' with a quad-team of my fellow firefighters...so we needed a good camp for those guys who would spend a great deal of time resting between laps.  Me?  Rest?  Not so much.

One of the four-man crew, staying warm before the start

The 7:00 am start time came quickly, and before I knew it I was kissing Donna 'goodbye' and heading off on my first lap.  Thankfully, Donna was there to support me by getting all of my supplements ready for me...which I was quickly taking after every lap.  My race-plan...everyone needs one...was to ride three laps, then take a short rest, and head back out for another three...then resting as needed, until I had reached my goal of ten laps.  I came back after my second lap, to restock my liquid fuel and the multitude of pills I was taking, feeling awesome.  I downed the pills, grabbed a fresh bottle, and headed back out.  My other race-plan was to keep my lap times at around 40-45 minutes.  Last year, as a member of the four-man team, I was turning 34-minute laps, but I knew that I would need to slow down in order to achieve my goal without burning out.  

Amazing nutrition/supplements!  I highly recommend them!

After lap number three I still felt amazing...no cramping, no fatigue...everything was great.  I decided to head back out for a fourth lap...just to get a jump start on my goal.  As I was riding my fourth lap, I began to notice the familiar burning sensation in my lateral knees caused by Iliotibial Band tightness.  I figured I had better take a break after completing lap four, and stretch out my IT Band.

As I returned to camp after my fourth lap, I realized that I had set a pretty fast pace...for me anyway.  I had completed four laps in just under three hours.  This meant that I would have plenty of time to take some rest breaks throughout the remainder of the day, and still reach my goal of ten laps.

After a short, thirty-minute break I headed back out to complete lap five.  I was looking forward to getting over the halfway 'hump', and planned on completing two laps on this outing.  My IT Bands however, had a completely different plan!  They were on fire!  Getting tighter and tighter with every pedal stroke.  It was really a shame because other than those pesky IT Bands, I was feeling great!  No muscle cramping, plenty of energy, and no power loss on the climbs...just pain when I needed to hammer on the pedals.  

I came in from lap five in a fair amount of pain, and decided to put lap six on hold for a few minutes.  Fortunately, there was a rehab station manned with two massage therapists, so I headed over for some work on my ailing IT bands.  After a 15-minute massage I was ready to hit it again, so I headed back out for lap number six.

Things went pretty well after that.  I was still having pain, but I managed to get through it by just turning single laps, resting for 20-30 minutes, and stretching before I headed back out. I finished lap ten...my goal...with roughly 1 1/2 hours remaining...plenty of time to get in at least one more lap, and beat my goal.  I decided to rest for about 40-minutes before heading back out.  This would give me plenty of time to fuel up, stretch, and mount my lights...I would be finishing in the dark.

Goal accomplished...ten laps...ahhh!

I have to be completely honest with you here...as I headed out on my 11th lap, I felt like crap!  Within the first 1/4 mile I was actually trying to justify reasons why I should just turn around and head back.  After all, I had accomplished my goal, right?  Somehow I managed to push past that point, re-framing those negative thoughts into positive ones, and actually began to feel really good.  The fuel I had put into my body was obviously kicking in, and started to feel like I could hammer...so I did!  I was able to power up the climbs, and bomb the downhills...I felt like I did on my first lap!  It's amazing what kind of power lies within our minds!  I completed my last lap at roughly the same pace as that of my first two laps...and then I was finished!  It felt great to have accomplished, and beat my goal...but I know I could have done even better.  You see, I still  had time to get out and complete one more lap...my 12th...but I had pushed so hard on my 11th, that I figured I had better not push my luck.  Besides, this way I have a good goal for next year!

The Day Draws Near...

I just finished mounting up my race tires on my bike...one of a handful of pre-race tasks that must be completed before my race this Saturday.  Yep, that's right...it is this Saturday!  If I told you I wasn't getting nervous, I'd be lying to you.  If I told you I wasn't having second thoughts about racing...I'd be lying to you.  I guess its probably a good thing that I had to pay $80 to participate...and there are no refunds!  Money can really be a motivator.

My 'race' is not your ordinary race.  For many, the word race conjures up thoughts of competitors going head to head against one another, at break-neck speeds.  And while this is true for some types of mountain bike racing (like the race I was supposed to participate in for the World Police and Fire Games) it is certainly not the case for my race on Saturday.  There will be other competitors in my class (solo racer), and they may be setting blistering paces in order to complete more laps than their opponents.  My race however, will be against myself.  My opponents lie within me...my mind, and my aging body.  I am racing against myself...no one else.  The race has actually started for me already.  In fact, it started the day I decided to compete in the solo class.  Every day is a mental battle for me, as I try to fight the demons in my head that say I am too old, or not in good enough shape for this race.  I have to admit that there are days that I lose the battle.  Fortunately however, losing one small battle here and there does take me out of the fight...it actually serves to motivate me.

I have been asked numerous times since 'announcing' my intent to race, "Why would you do that?"  It's funny, but sometimes you can sense that there is more behind a question, than just the question being asked.  Inflection, tone, body language...they all tend to give us a deeper look into the true meaning behind the question.  For instance...the other day, one of my fellow firefighters asked me a similar question..."Why are you riding your bike for 12-hours straight?"  Now if it were asked just as I typed it, it would simply be a question...but when you add in facial expression (smirk), the rolling of the eyes, and waving of the hands in a 'oh look at me, I'm doing something special' manner, it becomes quite apparent that the question is really not a question, but more of a statement of disapproval.  Oh well.  Then there are the genuine questions regarding why I would want to do something that sounds so grueling and 'un-fun'.  This question has been asked of many people, regarding many different challenging tasks and events.  The most well known of course, refers to the sport of technical climbing and mountaineering.  Often climbers are asked "Why did you climb that?"  The usual answer..."Because it was there".

In my opinion however, the true answer to these types of questions is simply the challenge itself.  I believe that for us to truly know who we are, we must know what we are made of...what we are capable of accomplishing, both physically and mentally.  So for those who truly want to know why I am doing this race, I can tell you that it is not about attention...it's not about trying to be better than someone else...it's simply about challenging myself, both mentally and physically, in my life-long journey of understanding who I am and what I am capable of.

So wish me luck as I fast approach the start time of the most physically demanding personal challenge I have yet to face.  My goal is to complete 10-laps in 12-hours.  I'll post again on Sunday to let you all know how I did.

Some Recent Rides...

I have been on a number of rides since I last checked in here, but today I will only share one of those rides with you all.

The Little Colorado River, just outside our cabin

It was the morning of December 8th...our 16th wedding anniversary.  Donna and I were celebrating our big day in Greer, Arizona.  For those of you who have never been to Greer, or have never heard of it...it's a quiet little mountain town, nestled among the White Mountains in Northeast Arizona.  Greer gets it's fair share of snow every winter....I know, those of you who are not from Arizona cannot imagine that us 'desert dwellers' get any of that white stuff.  Believe me though...the Northern parts of our great state get plenty!

OK, back to the story already!

We rented a cabin for a few days, and of course I took my bike...I'm in training, remember?  I planned to get in a few rides while we were there, taking advantage of some altitude training (although there is some question as to whether or not there is really much benefit to that...but that's another story!)  I was prepared for the cold weather, having brought all of my cold weather riding gear, including my very expensive GORE winter riding gloves.

I got a lot of funny looks heading north with this setup!

I waited for the sun to come out from behind the mountains before I ventured out.  I figured it would be too cold to ride in the shadows...hmm.  The 'rides' I was planning wouldn't be trail rides, as the trails were all covered in snow and ice.  I was planning on riding the 373 (aka "The Road to Nowhere") out to the 273 and back...about 16-miles all in all.  I topped of the air in my tires, threw my hydration pack on, donned my beanie and helmet, and hit the road.

About a mile into my ride I noticed that my hands were already getting cold!  "No biggie" I thought.  I've felt that before, and my hands have always warmed up after my blood gets pumping.  Today however, would be quite different.  My education in exercise science made me aware that, while you may not feel like you need to drink often during cold weather exercising, it is very important to do so.  So...at about mile number two, I decided to take a quick sip of water from my Camelbak...only to find that the water in the hose and bite valve had frozen over.  It was at that point that I should have turned back...but you know me.

I kept riding for another mile, making some short but steep climbs, all the while feeling the 8200+ feet of altitude, and the ever increasing pain in my hands.  I passed by the Greer Fire Station and thought, for a moment, about stopping in and saying hello to my brethren...all in an attempt to get warm...but my legs kept pedaling.  There was an apparent disconnect between my brain and my body...probably caused in part by a frozen brain, and the hypoxia I was experiencing due to the 'thin air'.

Shortly after passing by the warm fire station, I decided it would be be wise (certainly much wiser than my choice to ride in the first place) to head back to the cabin.  As I turned, so too did the wind!  I was riding into a gentle but freezing cold head-wind on the way out, and wouldn't you know, on the way back I found I was riding into that same wind!  By this time, I could not feel three of my fingers on my right hand, and two on my left hand...it was like they weren't there.  Thoughts of frost-bite were now freely roaming around in my mind, as the hypoxia increased, and my ability to think clearly began to diminish. 

I finally made it back to the cabin...my ride was only six miles, but it felt like sixty!  As I made my way up the short set of steps and onto the patio, all I could think about was just how much my hands were going to hurt as they defrosted.  You all know what I'm talking about right?  We've all experienced the painful sting as our hands return to normal temperature after being in the cold for a short time.  Well....multiply that by at least 100, and you will have some idea of what I was going through.

As I walked through the door, Donna (unaware that I was hurting) looked at me and let out one of those little sorrowful laughs.  You see, I looked as though I had just finished a marathon, and I had snot frozen to my nose and upper lip...yeah, it wasn't a pretty sight!

I began to peel the layers of clothing off, removing my helmet, beanie, and gloves.  The instant those gloves came off, and the heat being radiated by the, highly efficient, fire place hit my skin, the pain set in...full strength!  I was truly reeling in pain...it felt as though someone were forcing my to hold my hands on a burner...it was excruciating!

The pain lasted about 30-minutes, then finally subsided.  I was amazed at what had happened, as it didn't feel that cold when I walked outside.  I checked the weather on my trusty iPhone, only to find that it was 11 degrees when I left!  I wont make that mistake again.

Just Checking In...

Hello my faithful followers!  It's been a while, I know.  But remember, that was the deal this time around...occasional posts.  What I am finding out however, is that by not writing as often, I find that I have too much to write about, and try to fit into such a 'small space'.  I don't want to bore you with too long of a post, so that makes it a little difficult...oh well, here goes.

In my last post I mentioned that I was having some IT Band pain, remember?  Well guess what?  It's still there!  Not as bad, but present none the less.  The resiliency of youth...it's long gone.  But as I like to say..."Press On!"  And so I will continue to ride and train, making a concerted effort to rehab my IT Band along the way, and perform a variety of corrective exercises in an attempt to elicit some degree of healing, while still riding.  That's life for an old fart like me I suppose...press on.

Not a bad looking setup!

Since I last checked in with all of you, I have had some really great rides!  Over the thanksgiving holiday, I had the opportunity to ride in mountains around Monterey, California.  This is where the annual Sea Otter Classic mountain bike race takes place, and it is beautiful terrain!  Surprisingly however, it was nowhere near as difficult as I had been lead to believe.

The Sea Otter Classic

 Before leaving on our trip to Monterey, I downloaded some trail maps of the area.  However, these maps lacked information as to where one should park their car if driving to the trail-head.  So...as I was driving around looking, I stumbled upon a parking lot full of roughly 30-40 mountain bikers gearing up for a Thanksgiving morning ride.  It was obvious that I was not a local...and I was waiting to here the dreaded "Yer not from around here...are you boy?"  Thankfully, they responding instead by introducing themselves, and freely providing me with advice if I chose not to follow them.  That's the friendliness associated with the mountain bike community...that differs greatly from the often 'snooty' road bikers...sorry all you roadies, but it needed to be said! You guys should really lighten up!  Anyhow... my new best friends were heading out in a number of different directions.  I chose to ride with a small group that was heading toward the area that I had maps for.  I rode with them for a little while, but soon realized (once my nervousness subsided) that I was actually riding far below my ability, as well as the intensity needed for some good training.  So I said thanks for letting me ride with them, and then disappeared.  Okay, not really...but I did slowly pull away from them on a long climb, and eventually left them all together.  It was actually a really good feeling knowing that I could hang with these guys...a real confidence booster...similar to the time when I rode with a local rider in Laguna Canyon while training for the Police and Fire Games.

Beautiful riding scenery in the hills outside Monterey, California!

The next day I rode along the recreation trail that parallels the Monterey Bay coastline.  This is a multi-use rec-trail...paved and flat, so it was nothing demanding...just a beautiful way to get in a light recovery spin after a day of climbing.  The scenery was beautiful, and my turn-around point was just past the famous Lover's Point in Pacific Grove.  I stopped to take a few shots of the surf pounding the sea wall, then jumped back on the bike and headed home...around 12-miles total.

Pacific Grove, California

Yesterday I rode with some of my firefighter brethren....attacking a section of the Black Canyon Trail system that I had never ridden before.  It proved to be quite challenging...both mentally, and physically.  You see, one of my fellow firefighters' brother-in-law joined us...oh, by the way...he's a cop.  He was joined by yet another police officer, who was fairly new to the sport of mountain biking.  Oh, I forgot to mention that this particular trail is NOT the place to bring a beginner!  This trail runs along the Black Canyon...hence the name Black Canyon Trail, and there are many places where the trail is only about two feet wide, and the fall exposure is quite high...over 100 feet straight down into the river bed below.  Kinda scary, even for a fairly seasoned rider like me.  Oh yeah, there is a tremendous amount of climbing involved in this ride as well.

One of the 'easier' parts of the trail

Well, it looked as though the ride wouldn't happen at all, as the rain (and hail) began to fall quite heavily while I was driving up towards Black Canyon City.  It was so bad in fact, that Interstate 17 was completely white due to the amount of hail that was falling.  It was actually something between hail and snow...solid enough to hit hard, but soft enough to splatter when it hit the windshield of my car.  i arrived at the trail-head parking area to just behind one of my fellow firefighters.  As we were discussing whether or not we should ride, the cops showed up.

Before I go on, let me fill you in on the typical relationship between cops and firefighters.  They refer to us as hose draggers, and we call them (appropriately) donut eaters.  Most cops don't care too much for firefighters...we think it is because they are jealous of our great schedules; the fact that our trucks are far cooler than their cars; and the fact that the public generally loves us, while they (more or less) loathe the cops.  We often tell them that they somehow must have stood in the wrong line when they were handing out applications, or that since they failed the fire department entrance exam, there was really only one occupation left that would accept them.  As you can see...there is not much love lost between our two service organizations.  In reality though, their not too bad...I even have friends and relatives who are police officers :)

So as I was saying...we were there, minding our own business, and the cops showed up...oh wait, that's a different story!  Let's just say that when these cops showed up, it was game on...and they started it.  The brother-in-law cop pulls up next to us, rolls down his window and says "Don't tell me you firemen are going to pu--y out!"  With that, I pressed the button on my power window, effectively silencing the little donut eater.  Moments later, the rest of my firefighter family arrived.  Seeing friendly faces, I got out of my vehicle to greet them, which apparently offended said brother-in-law cop.  He looked at me and said, "What?  we're not good enough for you to get out and say hi to us?"  Blah, blah, blah.  After a few minutes of bantering and decision making, we elected to go on the ride.

'nuff said!

 
Much to the joy of bro-in-law donut eater, who quickly stated just how much he was looking forward to kicking some firefighter ass out on the trail.  And with that, we headed out on what was planned to be an 18 mile ride, taking us about 2 hours.  Remember those numbers.  Right out of the gate, we were faced with a 1 1/2 mile climb...the cops didn't fare too well.  upon reaching the summit, I (like a good mountain biker) stopped to wait for the slower riders.  Roughly 10-minutes later, the group was intact.  The problem with this however, is that when the last guy gets to the top, the rest of the group is usually well rested, and ready to go.  This however, is not the case for the last guy...he still needs to rest.  So...to make a long story short...we made many stops like this one.  Fifteen to be exact!  Not exactly what I had planned for.  Oh by the way...it was the two cops that we were waiting for most of the time!  Total ride time...four hours!

I'll check back in soon!