Once i put it onto the project plan at the scrum meeting, i easily did 3 days in a row. But here i am all kitted up 2x a day, and nowhere to go? Possibilities are intriguing for easy brick workouts with minimal overhead: 45 – 120 min CX or XC to the office and back, 20 min of freeweights, 20 min of pilates, 45 min at the gym, 2 miles jogging, runzeheunding, or picking the kids up from school.

Today was the bi-annual bike-to-school day. We locked G’s new ride Hawkeye up in the morning, i rode to work, home, then back with the trailer. From back in the day…G got a free ride across her campus, and experimented with gravity.

G remembered our route from Alana’s school to her school to the golf course, and wanted to lead. Fearless she is, even after she ate shit twice in gravelly transitions in the dark. It didn’t phase her, just motivated her to pick a new spot on the fairway for us to romp. The only 20 feet of rope on the course becomes Angry Birds, pigs popping while little girls tumble down the links.

Alana is such a girly-girl, so tender and so moody. Her idolatry of G pushes her beyond any positive or negative reinforcement i’ve failed to provide. How does an offspring of mine refuse practical shoes? At least she knows barefoot is better.

Insistent on these clothes, which somehow match

dirty girl is happy, she may yet become core

i had no hand in this, Genevieve posed it

One can actually live on work, obligations and beer for 4 straight days!

96 hrs online, on the kids, or drunkspinning workfinishing. sleep arbitrated with laundry and dishes and feeding the masses. crossfit parenting, dulled to the perfect edge for trudging.

We 3 launched with purpose by sleeping late on Tuesday, an executive decision to power nap, everyone still tired from the zoo and dreading mommy gone. Leisurely breakfast and play with binoculars over a babyblue Valley morning a bon voyage for them, skipping agroSnotsdale school traffic godspeed for me. Why do stay-at-home-moms bristle at the term ‘unemployed‘? I won’t use it, if you won’t drive like you’re late to a meeting.

Wednesday was my monthly volunteer day. I helped kids with math. I went to PE and did aerobics with G. it was the best part of my day, even better than Bagel Day, which is inevitably pockmarked with co-irkers. I spent 30 minutes commando in Fresh&Sleazy, and somehow did not eat any of it til 3 days later. Why would a child complain about a quesadilla? Melted kiddie plates forgotten in the oven looked like Dali clocks, late sittter, sidewall slice at 2 miles in to a 1hr window dodging crap-ass minichunk, spunk dry, forgot extra sealant: white people problems. It is dark and calm and 60 degrees over a babyblue Valley night. I jogged home, ran back out with the dog, took a staff meeting on IST time, drank heavily. Doing it the next day and the next.

I’ve seen a lot of blogs from parents. The women writers gush and whine and take 4x too long to get to the fucking point. The men act disdainful, then redeemed, then make bad fart jokes. I am disinterested in their little monsters and blogspot subdomains. I don’t want to wallow in pearls of wisdom, i just want it to be quiet for another day pushing a boulder up a hill.

I try to find a sparkle every day, something remarkable to testify. Some days the kids or the dog or the sunset provide, some days its a chore and a bore and i slice sidewalls. Some days i can’t even enjoy rubbing one out cause i can no longer imagine any conceivable narrative where stripper-hot women would be interested in me. So omnipotent is my lameness, it suspends suspension of disbelief, even in a porno.

Its 65 and sunny everyday of an AZ winter. Annnnnnnnnnnnnd its trainer season! Monday – trainer! Tuesday – trainer! Wednesday – sidewall slice, and then…trainer!!!

Since i clearly don’t ride anymore, i made myself happy the next best way, and bought gear. Thanks Fish! Then i fought with my kids and kicked Alana’s bike down the street, cause i’m good at ruining a day like that.

Maad gave me a charity fuck and drug me out at 3pm Friday around the Gateway Loop. The start of the weekend was so beautiful it stung, but i could only wheeze and wallow over spanking Alana that morning, even though she so had it coming. Maad bitched about needy bitches and their booty calls interrupting his training sleep. FML. Personal best time on Paradise Wash – 7:32.

50 minutes is not a ride, so i made myself happy the next best way. Kila and i picked the girls up from school.

G showed off her bike by riding around the gym at Kids Club. i asked her if she thought Alana would remember we fought that morning. G figured no, and Alana couldn’t be happier to see us and the bikes. We took the long way home through the golf course. The kids rolled down hills and romped in the dark til they were dizzy. We showed Alana a swamp we’d found the week prior, formed where the golfcourse’s irrigation settles. Reeds and lush trees sprung out of the ill-planned source at the lowpoint of fake greenery interweaved with bands of desert. Hundreds of small black birds chittered in the reeds, quieted as we approached, fled to the high branches as Kila sloshed through the muck, then dropped like beads in a lava lamp back down to the reeds.

happy girls with rock candy pops
.

really happy, G sat for about 10 minutes and nursed hers

2nd time on the merry-go-round? 1st time feeling likc a triceratops jockey

listen to the giggle

The gospel I preach is they can pick a single ride or treat each visit to the zoo. Its less about saving money, and more about the cardinal virtues and the deadly sins. It leaves me room to be magnanimous, and rebuke G when she feigns entitlement. I saw the slide and knew G would choose it. She rode her bike from 105th St. to the golf course on Quartz Trail the other night, fearless of the chunk or the pitch. I asked her before the last gravelly descent what she needed to think about and she said ‘Staying balanced and holding the brakes.’

4 seconds never felt so good. Selling it to Alana that she would get her own treat too was not easy. Its hard being sub-38 inches.

4 hours non-stop = instant coma

G and I did 3 rides on her new bike, the 2nd one 5 miles to my office on mups and bike lanes. She watched Netflix and ate Captain Crunch while I worked, then we rolled another 5 home. 100 yards from the end of rush hour traffic on FLW blvd, with one driveway left to cross, she got happy and squirrely and turned right into me, premature celebration like the one that nearly broke my thumb on the last 200 yards of Kiwanis. A lesson i will not forget, and neither will G. She bounced off me and into the street. I pulled her back onto the sidewalk while she screamed.  I’m still shaken, but how is she gonna learn to ride in the bike lane if she doesn’t practice? Teaching her to get into granny to climb the canal and bombing off it dispelled the fear of God racing through both of us. *smiles*

here are some bad videos of sessioning the tunnel at Shea\92nd.

The next ride we hit McPump, and the trail. 4 hours ripping the track and 2 1.5m laps on singletrack off the Long Loop – a good day for a tinyHuman and her new bike. She fell, she got up, she had snacks, she rode the jump line on her 20″. I rode it 20 times til i could land pointing down. Beckie rode the 29er and ran. Outdoor fun for everyone.

Alana has learned to run! Sorta. 20 feet at a time. She pumps her legs and slopadoodles 20 feet down the hall, nearly crashing, recovering, then slopadoodling another 20.

Alana rode to the Eagle and back on her 12 inch. She has no power in her stroke, but has begun to combine core with turning. We went down a 1% grade, me in front, stepping 2 steps back and 2 steps sideways, and her steering each direction after me chattering about that damn kid Dylan again. She did not dead-sailor and flop out of the saddle on turns, finally a sign that she is getting it. She began to get braking, when i say pedal forward, and pedal back. But those are similar and confusing words for a Podford; they process very slowly when the cpu connects to the leg api. Like G with her new bike, Alana gets better with more saddle time.

we pedaled, we sang, we played with the remote control car and climbed.

the last day of vacation we hiked Pinnacle Peak. G made it the whole way, albeit with some nudging. Alana did fine, just fine for such a beautiful little girl on such a big pitch.

the first day back at work i wanted to kill everyone and quit, not necessarily in that order. If I could have every day to play outside with my girls, it would not last long enough. I am strongly considering becoming a stay-at-home dad.

The AZ Trail from the Picketpost TH outside Superior, to the Gila River and back. 41 miles, and we thought 7500 vf.  Turns out it was 9k, that extra 20% all stuffed into 10 miles on top of another 2500 vf., and about 3500 before that. I was doing great through the first 5 miles of the climb.  Easy reliable 15 min miles that steadily rolled off me. The last 5 punctured all reserves and left me completely and utterly shattered. I haven’t had my ass handed to me so badly in a couple years. The climb just kept going and going, and going. All I could think was ‘i have to get out of this canyon! i have to get out of this canyon!‘ When I finally did, my left leg locked up both ways. It cramped extending and it cramped contracting. I couldn’t spin out the cramp or be still with it. I flopped over on a switchback, trapped in cramps extending and contracting, and writhed on the trail for 20 seconds until i was able to grab my foot and pull my leg bent, whenceforth it cramped again and i had to stand up to prop my leg extended, whenceforth… This continued for 2 hours.

Other than all that, it was a primo day on primo trail

The trail is holistic, and follows the contours of the terrain so seamlessly i often couldn’t guess where it went around the next bend. Its surface blended the landscape. Some sections are bench cut, others over embedded rock, through rock gardens or stream crossings or narrow lines on exposed pitches. There were no freebees.

out to the dropin at mile 14 and back would be a great long day without being totally brutal. ~5 hrs, but not so much that you lost the joy of the engagement on the trail I averaged just under 11 min\mile out to mile 14.  A bit faster on the return. It was flowy and snug, but i was so broken the last 5 miles i appreciated very little.

y

the change in tree color marked the Gila River

strange bedfellows

I rounded a corner and saw Doug rolling through this on the far side. It reminded me of a sequence i took of Beckie in The Canyon, the distances and scopes were similar.  can you see him?

lemme help ya out with that

two handbrakes, rear deraileur, squishy and too long. A dirt ride covered in her bigger bad-ass pads and new jersey allowed saddle time and gentle falls. G did so well already!!!

I made brownies.

so psyched was i

What a POS is my camera. but if trends continue, one of my kids will break it within 6 months. You’ll just have to use better imaginations to appreciate all the lush chunky violence of the terrain. The backside of the Catalinas is dense, bouldery and tight. Thicker with cactus than anything here in the Valley.

The loamy soil was still moist, and offered outstanding grip even in the many transitions from rockface and back. Flowy traverses, bermed descents, and punchy climbs kept the ride exciting and the heart rate up. Any bike will handle this trail, but stoked for techy opportunities, the Bird was the perfect choice for me.

i gots da last Rage DH jersey, suckas!

lots of b-lines. we were having too much flowy fun on the Lower and Upper Chutes to take many pics. I hit most of the alternate trials and jumps, but not this one.

wadding…

wadding…

booyah! wadded up!

So tell me people, what is the right technique for these long steeps?? I managed on 3-4 other ones out there by creeping in gently and massaging the rear brake down. I just didn’t want to try this without watching someone else go first…twas the night before xmas, I’m not going to the ER. :nono::yesnod:

Three guys who really really like beer and were really really thirsty all paused in the ice-covered parking lot of the Pagosa Brewery to listen to the end of this song. Then we crammed into the restaurant-nee-quonsetHut, celebrated 2 perfect powder days, and watched all health violations freeze to death as the waitstaff walked meals across the yard from the kitchen in a nearby trailer. whatevah… I wash my hands and drink liquor from a flask, I’m anti-Vail, i’d eat Cliff bars for 48 hrs if the lifts kept running. Even vigorous sex is second to a sunny, 25 degree day of fresh powder. ooooooooh, yeeeeeessss, right there baby. gliding through the trees, floating on titties. i’m still in post-coital bliss.

moonshine and bluebird

Here’s a new way to do Wolf Creek: leave comfortably after work, drive through the night, and nap in the car. 3 is the perfect number, enough to split the gas but not offset the single hotel room, leave spaces in the car and the conversation. Is it a coincidence the lifts at Wolf Creek are mostly triples? We 3 sluffed into Pagosa Springs at 4:30am, bought coffee at the only open gas station so we could gear up in the baffroom. Then we passed out for 2 hours in front of a ski shop. Snow cred for guys who average 3.7 houses having-owned.

The shop mechanic rolled up at 7:30am on a Turner DHR, and left it unlocked out front while JB dropped off his new powder planks. It was still out front that afternoon.

Us: nice $4k bike
Brobra: this is the safest town in the world, i haven’t seen my house key in 12 years
Us: We lock our  bikes in our garage, to a gigantic deadly python. and worry if the humidity is right. For the hand-made tire sealant…not the python.

These are white people problems. Midweek early-season dumps puff them softly away, leaving us in the ecstasy of the moment.  So rare for me to simply be,  in the exquisite simplicity of inner and outer peace.  Everyone here feels it and is so hopelessly nice.  We left all our gear in the back of the F150, and contemplated uprooting and moving to a mountain town.

i filled my 6oz flask with 12 yr old rum. We had half left at the end of each day. Who wants to give up their balance after driving all night and inflicting chiropractic chaos sleeping in a jump seat? The warm nips are something i hope to never be without again. Next trip will be butterscotch schnapps.

my brobras

First run of the first day was sketchy, alien, stance too tight and edges waaaaaaaaaaay tighter. I wadded up, knocked it out, got skeered, got comfy, and got to the bottom thinking ‘its just a board…ride it.’

So James and I hiked up Alberta Peak, to hit the fresh 35 degree pitch. First time hiking from the Treasure lift, which is much gentler than up the Alberta lift side, except for 350 wheezing steps at the end. James slid up mild grades, then nimbly dropped his skis into his pack and trotted up the approach. i took back all the nasty stuff i said about boarders crushing skiers in the sprint tris. This was my secret plan all along to encourage him to take more stunning pics.

The Artist

that is a long fucking short walk

~17 minutes of crucifiction. We did it 3x. pic courtesy of James

I dropped Alberta face on the 2nd run of the day, of the season, ever on my new board. The rockered design ate up the pow, I’ve never been so at-ease on a steep&deep. and it was way more stable – albeit a bit slower – on the cat tracks.  I can’t elucidate the details, but i know it when i see it. Buyer’s remorse and trepidation transition to tickled tenacity.  its just a board…ride it.

So we did for 2 more days, and by the next lunch I had surpassed what I could do on the old board.

new FB profile pic courtesy of James, i’m going to have to start paying royalties.  More pics on James’ blog

James coming down Alberta

on top of me

oww. my boot hurts my shin.  and the farmer’s mart was out of organic arugula. i have white people problems

Bony conditions, bruises, and Lindsey-Vonn-shin put us on the road instead of the slope the next morning, with time to enjoy Durango. I connected with a buddy from high school i hadn’t seen in 20 years. Thanks Adam! James got a pair of boots that will rock Mardis Gras. We took my bud’s recommendation and enjoyed stellar food at Gazpacho’s.

enchilada with xmastree salsa and posole on the side

bueno.

There is a candy conspiracy! Bags of delicious candy corn have been getting simultaneously smaller and more expensive and harder to find off-season, which can not be explained by increasing demand, as there is no barrier to supply. Fat-ass ‘mericans would eat candy-corn or candy-combo or candy-kibble 24/7 if you kept the food coloring interesting. So why the shortage?!?!? Why is there only 1 kind of peanut butter cup? Who wouldn’t buy a bigger, cheaper Baby Roth bar? ipso facto, conspiracy!

Alana eats candy. I am still eating their Halloween candy. She is in a netherworld between diapers and Dora underpants and crisis!

Best candy-coated way to start the day: have your toddler pee herself while dropping the other kid off for school, then have a yard full of teachers and parents smugly judge how you handle it. Not one of you has a damn babywipe handy? A-holes.

Anyone got some candy? Mongo like candy.