Pre-Race Prep (first draft)

It's going to be difficult to explain that my dog Evey has taught me incredible lessons regarding competition, positive attitude, and perseverance without sounding drippy but I'm going to try anyway.

At a certain point this summer (I'm not sure of the exact date) I realized I have no idea what I'm doing. Absolutely none.

I had participated in team sports (B-Team sports) in the past but that just gave me experience in how to play games: hit a ball, run the bases. Serve a ball, score a point. It's not really a background that could give a person the tools necessary to succeed in a solo, multi-sport event like the Iron Girl Duathlon. Run 2, Bike 22, Run 2.

Anyway, I did the only rational thing I could think of to do. I signed up for a triathlon as practice.*

The tri was in Chisago Lakes, a small town just about an hour from the twin cities. It was billed as a "Swedish themed triathlon through the beautiful roads of Chisago County." Perfect. Who doesn't love Swedish culture? It would be a great no-pressure venue to gain experience in transitions, bike racing, and running. While I hadn't ever actually swam in a lake before, I had been going to St. Kate's about once a week and knew I was buoyant. How hard could a quarter of mile be?

The days drifted by and slowly but surely my excitement turned to nervousness which turned into worry which turned into dread which turned into stomach wrenching diarrhea and fear of death. What the hell was I thinking? A triathlon? Lake swimming? Commuting to work is not the same as racing against 1,000 other people and running around the neighborhood is not the same as running in spandex and getting your picture taken.

Following the golden rule of competition I gave myself a few total rest days before the big event... but I couldn't sit still. I decided to take Evey to the dog park as a distraction. Sitting at home, staring off into no where and imagining my sad little obit would only drive me more crazy. The Fort Snelling dog park sits on the banks of the Mississippi and encompasses about 10 acres (?) of forest. The fact something like it can exist in the heart of Minneapolis is yet another testament to what makes this city so incredible.

I walked along the shore throwing a stick into the water for the dog.

The scariest part about the swimming aspect was that I could no longer put my feet down. I would be out there, in the abyss, with no where to go. If anything happened, if I went under no one would be able to see me in the murky brown lake water... especially with all the other people wearing the exact same tri-suits and swim caps. And even if I did make it, I knew it would be at a embarrassingly slow rate of speed. And as we all know, the only thing worse than death is humiliation.

A high pitched yelp echoed through the trees and shocked me back into the present. There Evey was, standing in the river looking at me to throw the stick. I looked at the stick and I looked at her. She yelped again. Clearly she had waited long enough and was demanding that the stick be thrown again immediately. She didn't have time for this. She wanted to be swimming and fetching...

Because it's fun...

Because swimming is fun...

I had forgotten that swimming is fun!

Come to think of it, riding a bike is even more fun! I love to ride my bike!

Not only that, but running is... well... running was also an event!

How had I so completely and utterly loss sight of what mattered most? I threw the stick far out into the river and Evey crashed into the waves. No hesitation. No worry. No fear. She ran back onto shore and dropped it at my feet, ready for another round.

Yesterday I took Evey to the dog park again. Sunday is the Duathlon and I found myself having the same inability to focus, the same fear, the same worry about future situations that may never happen: What if my chain breaks? What if I get a flat? What if my knee hurts in the middle of running? What if I'm not the fastest? Will it disappoint the other members of Team Angry Catfish? How will this cold I have affect my performance? And like clockwork came the high pitched yelp, echoing through the forest trees. There she was, months later teaching me the same lesson: just throw the damned frisbee! Running is fun! Activity is fun! Being around people is fun! Just go!

Which is why this blog posting will remain a first draft. The same little doggie who has taught me so many life lessons is currently looking at me, desperate to go outside on this gorgeous Saturday afternoon. And I know without a doubt she is right. The best thing to do is get outside and enjoy the day.

I don't know what I would do if I didn't have her to remind me what matters most.

*The exact point at which at least 75% of the people reading this stop reading and think I'm crazy.

Art for Bikes Sake

WOO HOO!!

On Oct. 24th, 2009, yours truly will be involved in the Art Crank Poster show.  I can't tell you what a honor it is to be in this show.  I am STOKED AND A HALF!! 

However, with Art Crank SF quickly approaching, I need to find a solid print shop or the such to make my posters come to life. 
You see these aren't just any posters! 
Oh no!
These are one of a kind.  Well, 30 of a kind...made special for you to take home and love. 
And I want to make sure that these suckas last and look ultra RAD!  After all Rad is in my name! 

So if you can help, LET ME KNOW.  I need to get them printed ASAP with extra special love!


P.S.  They are kind of an odd size (30 x 12) so...specialty printing is needed.  THANKS!!!

An Open Letter to Car Drivers

Dear Sir or Madam,

I am a cyclist, not all cyclists.

So when you hear that I ride two wheels to and from work each day, please suppress the urge to tell me stories of every rider who blew through a stop sign, didn't use hand signals, used confusing hand signals, wasn't wearing a helmet, was wearing a funny helmet, was slowing down the flow of traffic, was going dangerously fast through traffic, was riding on the sidewalk, was riding on the road, or had their butt crack hanging out. You need to stop and think about what you are doing. I am a cyclist. Not all cyclists. We don't get together the last Tuesday of the month to discuss what's been going on around town. No one keeps minutes. There is no secret handshake.

Due to this, there is no possible way I can convey your accounts of woe to the people who happen to be behaving badly on bicycles.

Here, let me put this in perspective. When I find out you drive to work each day from some suburban nightmare, I don't regale you with stories about the idiocy of car drivers-- how terrified I was when a sport utility vehicle passed me at 40 mph with no room to spare. How I got honked at for actually stopping at a 4-way-stop and then taking "too long" when it was my turn to proceed. How I've made it my personal battle to make the phrase "Get on the sidewalk!" legal grounds for manslaughter because it is so fundamentally ignorant...

Telling you all that would be silly! Because you are a car driver, not all car drivers. You have no association with the person next to you on the freeway other than that you are both people, alone in a car, coming from a similar direction and going in a similar direction. That's it.

The same is true for me. I am proud of my bike and the miles I put on it. I'm proud of my friends who actively and enthusiastically put miles on their bikes. But I honestly can't account for the actions of every hipster on a fixie, no more than you can account for the actions of every Escalade with spinning rims. I am my own person with my own story and my own love of cycling. Don't try to group me with those who don't know how to ride. Furthermore, don't pretend like you've never rolled through a stop sign or forgotten to signal. Please.

Does this make things a little bit more clear for you? Do you understand? Good. I hope this little talk comes in handy the next time you have the opportunity to meet a commuter.

Sincerely,

Me, just me, one cyclist among millions, Antonia, doing her best against these waves of constant stupidity.

"Run when you can, walk when you have to, crawl if you must; just never give up."

-Dean Karnazes

The Agony and the Ecstasy

In March I started a fear-based training program after signing up for the Irongirl Duathlon (taking place September 27th). First and foremost, my goal was to not die/ faint/ lose bowel control at the event. It's good to have goals.

The course map looks a little something like this. Run 2, Bike 22, Run 2. Because I started commuting to work over a year ago the riding aspect didn't really intimidate me. I know my legs. I know my bike. And I know both can do the job without falling apart. But running was a different matter. I hadn't run since high school and that incident consisted of an inglorious 14 minute mile that both my butch gym coach and wretched classmates laughed at. Openly.

So I did the best thing a terrified beginner could do: I got advice from someone who knows what they're doing and followed it.

I spoke with my best friend/ pilates instructor, Anna. "First," she told me, "get good shoes. Skimping on shoes just means foot, leg, back, muscle pain down the road." Check and check. I went to Sports Authority in Richfield and tried on every single pair of women's and men's shoes until I found a pair that was like stepping on clouds. Don't limit yourself to a certain brand or even style. Try it all until you find a pair that fit perfectly.

Next Anna said, "start slowly with interval training. Run a block then walk a block. Don't expect to run a marathon right away. Building up to 2 miles will take a lot of time and effort."

With those words Anna set me free. It had never crossed my mind I could allow myself to walk in my running training. Everyone I have ever seen running, was, well, running. I thought walking meant failure and ridicule (thank you high school!!) but in reality, walking is an important stepping stone to building enough endurance/ muscle strength to run.

So way back in March, when the sidewalks were still wet and partially covered in ice I set out on my run 1 block/ walk 1 block training program.

I ran 1 block!

Then I laid down in a random yard and rested.

Then I ran 1 block!

Then I puked blood in the street.

Then I ran 1 block!

Then I tried to flag down passing cars for a ride home.

It was agonizing. My insides felt like they were sloshing around and painfully bumping into each other. I was water logged. My lungs were angry and my muscles felt like they were tearing off my bones. I wanted to quit... But I didn't quit. I got really really pissed off instead. There I was, a 25 year old woman who couldn't move quickly under her own power for farther than 1 damned block. Come on. So I fought back. The next day I ran 1 block and 3 steps. The day after that I ran 1 block and the entire intersection. Every single time it got better and I went farther. I forced myself to continue on through stubborn, begruding determination.

If you are struggling in your fitness routine, the best advice I can give is to make it personal. Get angry at the distance that has conquered you. Whether it's 2 miles or 20 you must under no circumstance be defeated. With that in mind I plodded on. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. It happened so slowly I honestly didn't realize a change had taken place. Yesterday I decided, quite spur of the moment, to take the long way home. 4 hilly miles. And it didn't hurt. To my utter and total disbelief I actually enjoyed myself.

I guess the moral of the story besides achieving goals, feeling good about yourself, and conquring what you used to think was impossible, is really that everyone from my high school can suck it.

Cranking it out.

Currently working on artcrank SFO poster. woot woot!

"Fancy a lady riding a thing like that. With a leg on each side, disturbing the traffic."

-John Galsworthy, The Forsyte Saga

Update in Leaving Behind My Personal Glowing Screen

(Scroll down or click here for previous post)

The best way I can describe it is this:

When I first moved to Minneapolis I liked driving. I liked listening to music and rolling the windows down and cruising around with friends. I thought it was fun. And then I got on a bike. And the more I rode the less I could stand being in a car. The freedom. The power. The exhilaration. There was simply no comparison. It started to mystify me why anyone in their right mind would ever choose a vehicle over a bicycle for any trip short or long, near or far. And then it expanded even more. I started to dislike cars I wasn't even in. Cars just driving down the road. Cars honking at each other. Big cars. Little cars. Fast cars. Slow cars. All of them became... grotesque and uncivilized.

The same thing has happened with my little facebook experiment. At first, I remember, thoroughly enjoying facebook. It was fun-- frivolous and fun. There was a satisfaction in seeing what friends spread to the far corners of the world were doing at any one time. Susan was riding the subway in Japan! Ida was attending her first year of college in Denmark! Saba moved to New York City! Wow! Look at all of them go! The thought of giving up all that knowledge and entertainment was a bit hard to swallow.

But then I logged off. And my time went from being devoted to what other people were doing to what I was doing. Me. Myself. I. I ran four miles and didn't tell a damn soul. Come to think of it, I also pre-rode the duathlon course and really enjoyed myself, I decided guacamole was my absolute favorite food and Duluth was my absolute favorite place. I did a thousand things all my own property. And after experiencing life like that, facebook just seemed... a bit grotesque and uncivilized.

Now how do I balance this with a growing blog? I want to go on twitter. I want to promote Sad Tan. I want to write and research bike related topics... and yet... the more I'm away from my personal glowing screen the more I want to stay away from it.

Laws of Simplicity

"Reduce: Small is beautiful, less is more. Reducing consumption is the keystone of sustainable living. If there is a single trait that defines North Americans, it is out love of purchasing things: all too often, we are what we buy. Altering these purchasing habits has a powerful influence on our collective future. The easiest way to do this is to reduce the amount of things purchased, and simplify our lives."

www. lawsofsimplicity.com

[Click here for the full article]

Leaving Behind My Personal Glowing Screen

One of the important gems of wisdom I picked up from watching Mad Men besides that men from the early 60's were philandering assholes, is that human beings have survived in a world almost completely devoid of computer technology.

Hard to believe, I know.

The reality of people without computers seems obvious, and yet seeing it played out on tv presented a novel, if not foreign ideal. For 8 hours a day I sit in a chair and stare at a glowing screen. Sometimes I read off of the screen and sometimes I type things into it. Then I come home and stare at my personal glowing screen. If I had a good commute I type "I had a good commute" as a "status update" in hope others will see it. They will ingest the information I presented and regurgitate a "status update" of their own about whatever inane thing they happen to be doing.

Does any of this strike you as odd? 50 years ago people A) wore fancy gloves to parties and B) did things for the pure sake of doing things. They lived one life. There was no internet persona to worry about. No message boards. No twitpics. If you took a walk in the park it was to experience a park, not to type something witty/crass/ironic/sarcastic/enlightening in the desperate hope someone out there who happens to also be staring into their personal glowing box finds you witty/crass/ironic/sarcastic/enlightening.

Inspired by the show I decided to try to live a simpler life.*

My incredibly wise and beautiful sister in law sets goals a month at a time. One month she will go gluten free. One month she won't watch tv. One month she'll go to sleep at 10 every night. It's both a way of testing herself and freeing herself.

So this months goal? Not to be a slave to the internet, and facebook more specifically. I'm going to live one life and enjoy every second of it. Might even have to buy one of those crazy "notebooks" I hear people used to type on... err... write on... err whatever.





*And I'm posting this proclamation on a blog website. Please click here for details.