Well, Hello, Neighbor!

Think of the worst person that you could embarrass yourself in front of – let’s go through the most common categories:

Family: They love you (you hope) and will (hopefully) forget the incident.  Even if they don’t, the truth is that you probably have spent so much time around your family that you’ve embarrassed yourself more than once in front of them, and they have probably embarrassed themselves in front of you.  All-in-all, while it’s never fun to embarrass yourself, a family member is not too bad of a person to have as a witness (see, my daughters watching walking down the street with one shoe on and one shoe off, a few weeks ago).

Strangers: Sure, it’s no fun to make a fool out of yourself in front of a total stranger, but unless the act is recorded on video and posted on YouTube, it isn’t that bad.  You probably gave the other person a good laugh, and you will never see them again.  Making a fool of yourself in front of a stranger might even be preferable to making a fool of yourself in front of friends or family, since the likelihood of future encounters with a stranger is minimal.

Friends: This analysis is similar to that of family, though this analysis only applies to embarrassing situations that occur when you are no longer in school.  If you are in school, making a fool in front of friends or schoolmates is the worst type of embarrassment there is (as a sophomore in high school, I once threw up in school three times in the course of a day; I threw up once in front of the freshman class, once for the juniors and once for the seniors – finally the nurse sent me home, you know, because there were no more grades to throw up in front of).  However, once you are out of school your friends, know you, rib you and forgive you.  You will probably have some dirt on them and they know you well enough not to judge you on that one specific occasion.

Co-workers / neighbors / business associates / people who you casualty encounter on a day to day basis: I think this is the worst group to embarrass yourself in front of because you have such little time and so few interactions with the other party, during which time the other person will form his/her opinion of you.  As a result, big picture assumptions and decisions are made by those people based on short and infrequent interactions.  Worse yet, forced, repeated interactions with the other party require you to face the embarrassing moment over and over again.  Of course, there is also the danger of getting labeled, for ease of recollection and identification - who wants to remember or attempt to pronounce the name “Avi”, when they can just call me something like “coffee stain guy”?

I recognize that my analysis might be flawed, lack categories and overlooks some important points - your comments and thoughts are appreciated.  But, let’s move on to why I bring this issue up.

After an hour-long bike ride, I turned down my block to see my next door neighbor bringing out his recyclables to the curb (it was paper/cardboard day in New Rochelle, today).  I have had some nice discussions with this particular neighbor, who is a very nice gentleman, and we get along well.  As you know, I have been working on my “unclipping skills” and I have actually had the hubris to pass along tips to others, now that I am thought I was an expert.  However, it is clear that I have not moved up to the advanced level of unclipping.

I steered my bike over to the curb where my neighbor was standing, with my left foot unclipped, and I put my left foot down to stabilize the bike.  My neighbor extended his right hand, and I began to extend my right hand to shake his hand, as I started to unclip my right foot.  He said, “Hey, how are you.”  I said, “I am doing well, it’s great to see you,” as my hand reached half-extension.  Then I looked as my neighbor and calmly said, “I am about to fall.”  My neighbor watched, dumbstruck, as my almost-handshake turned into me keeling over on my bike, to my right, and me torqueing my body so I landed on my hands in a quasi-side push up (thankfully, my left foot was unclipped, so I could adjust).  What I learned at that moment was that my neighbor has a great lawn with the softest grass – I knew it looked great before today, but now I know it feels great too.  I then proceeded to unclip my right foot, stand up and began to explain to my neighbor why I made a complete idiot out of myself.

I have a feeling that the next time I wave hello to my neighbor, he’ll be thinking “Hey, tip-over guy!”, or something like that…  I can’t think of a nickname, but if you can, please let me know.  I might just get something for the person who comes up with the best nickname.

Alarm Bells Are Ringing

On Sunday, a teammate of mine shlepped me around the entire 25 mile triathlon bicycle course.  One hour and forty minutes later, I realized that I am in more trouble than I thought.  Apparently, the additional 6 miles, which I previously didn’t ride last week (not to mention the sweltering heat), took me over the edge.  I ran 3.1 miles last week after a 19 mile bike ride; this week, I made it the 31 steps up my driveway, barely.  I am pretty sure that I slowed my teammate down by a solid five to ten minutes over the course of the ride.

Yesterday, I was still recovering from my ride in the morning, but I headed to the gym @ 8:30pm for a swim, only to realize when I got there that I forgot to take my asthma medication.  While you may remember that I had previously biked and ran without taking asthma meds, I thought better of spending too muchtime under water without sufficient oxygen-enhancing assistance (I also missed getting to Costco and Home Depot before they closed because of my bumbling stupidity). 

Last night, I decided to make up for everything.  I set my alarm on my cell phone for 5:30am, ready to go out to bike and run (yeah!).  I failed to realize that my handy dandy wall charger was unplugged, so though my phone was plugged in, the charger was not.  My alarm never went off and I slept to 6:45am (which, I must admit, was sort of a pleasant surprise).

I ate cheesecake this weekend (small piece), had half a slice of pizza, had a small smoothie this morning… I am falling off the boat in not so small steps.  Alarm bells are starting to ring, especially because I have put 3 pounds back on (down 16 pounds, versus 19 pounds – and every pound counts when you are going up what seems like Mount Everest, which happens to be a tiny hill to most everyone else).  Oh yes, I failed to mention that my brake pads on my bike are doing some funny things...

Alarm bells are ringing everywhere…

But, there is good news.  Tomorrow, a team mentor has organized a bike ride at 5:50am (that is 20 minutes earlier than usual) and we will be doing many hill repeats (read: masochism in one of its highest forms).  I will go swimming tonight and will remember to take my meds, first.

Then, there is the best news of all.  Some of you may be aware that the Bar Exam is going on today and I am not taking it.  Clearly, things could be worse (I could be in the Javits Center with thousands of hyper-stressed lawyers-to-be taking the first of at least two days of 8-hour-long exams).  Just thinking about it makes me feel a lot better (schadenfreude anyone?).  Things are looking up already; now I just need to make sure that my alarm is set to go off at 5:15am and that I actually plug my cellphone charger in tonight.

Alarm Bells Are Ringing

On Sunday, a teammate of mine shlepped me around the entire 25 mile triathlon bicycle course.  One hour and forty minutes later, I realized that I am in more trouble than I thought.  Apparently, the additional 6 miles, which I previously didn’t ride last week (not to mention the sweltering heat), took me over the edge.  I ran 3.1 miles last week after a 19 mile bike ride; this week, I made it the 31 steps up my driveway, barely.  I am pretty sure that I slowed my teammate down by a solid five to ten minutes over the course of the ride.


Yesterday, I was still recovering from my ride in the morning, but I headed to the gym @ 8:30pm for a swim, only to realize when I got there that I forgot to take my asthma medication.  While you may remember that I had previously biked and ran without taking asthma meds, I thought better of spending too muchtime under water without sufficient oxygen-enhancing assistance (I also missed getting to Costco and Home Depot before they closed because of my bumbling stupidity). 


Last night, I decided to make up for everything.  I set my alarm on my cell phone for 5:30am, ready to go out to bike and run (yeah!).  I failed to realize that my handy dandy wall charger was unplugged, so though my phone was plugged in, the charger was not.  My alarm never went off and I slept to 6:45am (which, I must admit, was sort of a pleasant surprise).


I ate cheesecake this weekend (small piece), had half a slice of pizza, had a small smoothie this morning… I am falling off the boat in not so small steps.  Alarm bells are starting to ring, especially because I have put 3 pounds back on (down 16 pounds, versus 19 pounds – and every pound counts when you are going up what seems like Mount Everest, which happens to be a tiny hill to most everyone else).  Oh yes, I failed to mention that my brake pads on my bike are doing some funny things...


Alarm bells are ringing everywhere…


But, there is good news.  Tomorrow, a team mentor has organized a bike ride at 5:50am (that is 20 minutes earlier than usual) and we will be doing many hill repeats (read: masochism in one of its highest forms).  I will go swimming tonight and will remember to take my meds, first.


Then, there is the best news of all.  Some of you may be aware that the Bar Exam is going on today and I am not taking it.  Clearly, things could be worse (I could be in the Javits Center with thousands of hyper-stressed lawyers-to-be taking the first of at least two days of 8-hour-long exams).  Just thinking about it makes me feel a lot better (schadenfreude anyone?).  Things are looking up already; now I just need to make sure that my alarm is set to go off at 5:15am and that I actually plug it in tonight.

Rough Riding

Rough Riding

Although my bike ride this morning was only an hour long, I had a rough ride.  Physically, mentally and emotionally, it was just rough all around.

I returned from a four-day-long business trip to Bah-stahn (otherwise known as Boston).  Since I am not a Yankees fan, I can say that it happens to be a beautiful city; well, at least the five square block radius around my hotel was beautiful.  I was a good boy and made sure to train for an hour a day, while I was away, doing running and weight workouts.  But, for some reason, when I got on my bike this morning, things didn’t click physically.

While I have the luxury of having a great group of training partners, this morning, I spent my first twenty minutes of my ride riding alone, which was fine.  The alone time gave me time to think and reflect upon the fact that this weekend is the one year anniversary of the passing of a very good friend of mine.  It seems like a long time ago and yet it seems like no time has passed since I last saw my good friend.  I thought about the fact that my friend battled cancer for a year, in a fashion that I could only describe as godly.  He never complained, always smiled and joked around; he worked through chemo treatments and somehow looked like he was doing better than everyone else, despite the realities of his situation.  He was a mountain of a man—physically, mentally and emotionally—and he whipped cancer, getting a clean bill of health, with nary a complaint and without an ounce of self-pity.  Unfortunately, a tragic accident took him from us all too early.

I thought about the fact that when I wake up at 5:30am to train, I sometimes wonder whether I should just avoid the pain and struggle of training and go back to bed.  I thought about the fact that cancer victims, like my friend, have no choice but to wake up and fight each and every day, if they want to have a chance of living.  They have no snooze button.  I know that my friend got up every day ready to fight, embracing his battle without complaint.  In fact, he encouraged others and raised us up with him.  I thought about how he would be an amazing mentor and training partner, if he were training for this triathlon with me. 

I also realized that each and every person that the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society is fighting for has a circle of friends and family who probably feel the same way about them as I felt about my friend; these people wake up every morning, not just five or six days a week, and fight, battle and persevere.  I have the luxury of getting off of my bike.  They don’t.  The only way that they can get off of their bike to rest and relax will be as a result of dollars and cents spent on cancer research.

So, I ask you, please donate.  Please donate generously to this all-important cause.  Please donate so that more and more people can wake up in the morning and hit the snooze button in their lives, or have the energy and ability to actually train for a triathlon or marathon, as opposed to battling illness.  If LLS is not your charity of choice, please write a check or donate to your favorite charity.  If you don’t have a favorite charity, or you are looking for a second or third-favorite charity, please consider donating to LLS, and supporting my triathlon bid. 

Thank you.

But, I Might Break A Nail!

It has been a rough last two days of training on my bike. In that time, I have blown out three tires in two days of riding. To be perfectly honest, it has been demoralizing and frustrating, but my only option is to get back on my bike and keep pedaling (after getting my tires fixed). If I look for the silver-lining, at least I got a blog topic out of the blow outs.

Last Thursday, about a mile and a half from home, I rode over a long but shallow pothole. I heard two large bangs under my feet. I had never experienced a blown tire before, nor had I ever heard the bang of a tire blowing out, so I was actually relieved to see that the bottom of my bike was still intact (I thought that my bike chain just dropped off, possibly along with my back gears) and found that the noise was the result of my then-deflated tires, bursting. I dismounted safely, surveyed the damage and knew that I could not ride my bicycle home. Now, I know, and was subsequently advised by passing teammates who stopped to check on me, that it is better to carry your bike, as opposed to rolling the bike, in order to avoid damaging my bike rims. So, I lifted my bike up and started carrying it home. And, as I walked home, I could swear that I heard my bike whispering to me, “So, big boy, how do you like walking a mile in my shoes, hauling me around?” Adding insult to injury, about halfway home, I could have sworn I heard my bike say, “Hey tough guy, even if you lost another 20 pounds, you would still weigh more than 125 pounds more than me!”

Is it strange that I now feel somewhat sympathetic towards my bicycle?

By Sunday, I had both blown tubes fixed at the bike shop and was in tip top shape, ready to go on my TNT bike training ride. For the first time, our coaches led the team out of the SUNY Purchase campus and onto neighborhood streets. We biked up Claire’s Climb, one of the major hills that we will tackle in the triathlon, then went down the hill and then went right back up the hill…and down… somewhere between three and five times, in total (if it sounds a lot like knocking your head against a wall, you’ve got a perfect picture of what it feels like). Not fun. Then, after all that, on the way back to campus, BANG! I get another flat, a solid six miles away from my car.

Luckily, two TNT mentors and a coach stopped to help me out, because otherwise, I would have been walking back five miles in 88 degree Fahrenheit heat. For a few minutes, it seemed like we were stuck in a bad joke (all because of my ineptitude), “How many TNTers does it take to change a bicycle tube?” First, I had the wrong size tube for my tire rim, which resulted in one of the mentor’s hard work, changing the tire tube 85% to completion, worthless. Then, the mentor’s hand cramped up, as a result of the exertion. We went through two other tubes, which didn’t fit my rim, until Regan, a TNT coach, pulled out a tube that fit (pretty much) my rim.

Unfortunately, Regan had just gotten a manicure before the weekend (she didn’t mention this until she was 65% of the way through changing my tire) and had ruined it on my account. She expertly fixed the tire, sweating, pushing, pulling and prodding the tube and the tire, and then pumped the tire up, to boot. My contribution to the effort was standing by, watching and saying, “thank you.”

– I did absolutely nothing.

What I didn’t tell Regan, or the other mentors, is that I know how to change a tire, but didn’t help because I too had just gotten a manicure, and I didn’t want to chip a nail.

(Just to be completely clear, I had NO idea how to change a tire – as sad as that sounds – and, I actually did not get a manicure, but I might as well have – I stood around looking and feeling like a useless idiot, thanking the heavens that such a strong and capable woman like Regan was in my life to help me out with my busted tire.)

THANK YOU TNT MENTORS AND COACHES FOR ALL OF YOUR HELP!

Do You Love Me…? Do I What?!?!

If you’ve seen either the movie or the play, “Fiddler on the Roof”, you know of the famous “Do you love me?” dialogue-song between Tevye and Golde.  The emotionally serious and comical interchange between husband and wife offers insight into a husband’s insecurities and a wife’s belief that her actions, not her words, should be sufficient evidence of her love for her husband (an obvious reversal of traditional gender stereotypes regarding a husband’s and a wife’s need for communication and affirmation of love). 

  

My wife and I are coming up on our 11-year wedding anniversary and our 15-year anniversary of when we started dating, so we have been together for a while…  I am lucky to be married to such a wonderful woman who is so amazing in so many ways (I am trying to strike a balance here, between being too mushy, yet complimentary enough so that my wife doesn’t give me hell about this blog or make it less convenient for me to train for the triathlon, so I apologize to you, the reader, for erring on the side of being a little more mushy than less).  Lucky for me, I don’t need to ask the question, “Do you love me?” – I know my wife loves me.

Let me take you back to this past Monday night (I will try my best to condense a longer story).  My wife and I were out for the night in NYC with my brother-in-law and his wife, celebrating the 4th of July.  I was walking with my BIL and my wife was walking with my SIL, and soon enough, I noticed that my wife and SIL stopped following my BIL and I back to our car, choosing to take a different route.  I told my BIL that we should go ahead and follow my wife and SIL, and not correct them if they lead us in the wrong direction.  We followed until we were a block and a half past the car, when my wife finally asked if I knew where the car was.  “Of course I do,” I responded.  My wife said to me, “You wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t ask, right?  You were laughing at me the whole time!”  My wife knows me all too well.

So, fast forward to last night, as I ran out of the house to Team In Training’s Wednesday night team swim training.  I went to the closet where we keep our towels, grabbed a yellow towel, ran to give my two daughters a kiss goodnight (my son was already asleep), and turned around to see my wife doubled over in laughter. 

“Look at your towel.  Go get another one.”

I thanked my wife, gave her a kiss goodbye and said, “I have no idea why you told me about this; you know that I wouldn’t have said anything to you.”  She nodded, knowingly.

I know my wife still loves me.  If she didn’t, I would have been using this towel to dry off in front of 25+ triathlon teammates. 

I would have looked Triathlon Tough.

Ride Between the Rain Drops

“We ride in the rain because after the swim, we are already wet, so riding wet is no big deal… The only type of weather we don’t ride in is when there’s lightning, because we would all be sitting on large pieces of metal, and that would be a bad idea.” – Coach Regan

Sunday morning, July 3^rd, was wet and rainy.  I am willing to bet that you didn’t drag yourself out of bed nice and early in order to spend two and a half hours riding 20 miles and running another 3 miles.  You didn’t do that because you are sane.

However, Skippy’s Team 2 and Team in Training were out and about on the SUNY Purchase campus, all of us soaking wet.  We trained because, well, we always train, unless there is lightning (see the quote above, err… well, close paraphrase above – I don’t videotape Regan’s pre-workout speeches on my phone to post to YouTube, though I am thinking that I should start because she is awesome).

There are a lot of downsides to training in the rain; most of them fall under the header of “Because You Get Soaked To The Bone”.  However, other most of the other downsides fall under the very popular header, “Because It Is A LOT More Dangerous Than Bicycling On Dry Pavement”.  Many of you know that light to medium rain can create extremely dangerous driving conditions.  These dangerous conditions are caused by all the slick oils that are on the pavement-surface or are just under the surface, which rise to the top of the pavement in the rain, or become part of a super-slippery suspension, that coats the top of the pavement.  When there is a lot of rain, that oil gets washed away, eventually.  Unfortunately, we didn’t have enough rain for that to happen.  We just got to ride on the slick, slippery stuff, which made the 11 hill repeats/ascents that much harder.

But, as Regan informed us, there is one VERY significant upside of riding in the rain.  That is, if you fall off your bicycle, because the ground is so slick, your skin won’t grip the pavement/ground as well.  So, rather than completely ripping up your skin, as a result of the friction between your skin and the ground, the reduced friction will allow you to slide along the ground… Your skin will still get ripped up, just not as badly.

Hurray Rain!

Thankfully, no one was hurt… well, no one fell; I think we all hurt a bit after the workout.

So, if you are ever awake on a Sunday morning, feeling bad about the fact that rain has ruined your morning plans, come join Team Skippy 2 and TNT at SUNY Purchase and get soaked with us!