The Lazy Dad’s Guide to Bipedal Training

December 31, 2009 / chollaball / Leave a comment

i can not evaluate Alana on her own terms, only in comparison to her 15% lighter sister. Is it wrong to have stockpiles for survival? She seems to be as much of an enduro baby, but not a racer. Is it wrong to be at the back of the pack? Is G’s energy today a result of who she was at 1, and if so it is too late for Alana to be G, but it is not too late for Alana to not be a pod? My own need for 8 hrs a week biases my thinking, colors can not be trusted.

New Years Resolution: make sure both my girls get at least an hour a day of exercise with me, like Kila, above and beyond whatever else they may get from wherever else.

Grey Day at Bulldog Canyon

December 30, 2009 / chollaball / 1 Comment

Best part of the ride came before i got out of the car: proper bike lane installed on Bush Highway from the 4-Way to the Blue Point Bridge. Woohoo! 6 more miles i am unlikely to die.

very leaden sky, kinda a nice change

everything was brown, green and grey

everything but the bike

and this fake flower at the top

the slog begins

uncontrolled ping-ponging can lead to consequences

next time i will set the camera up here to show the pitch

the payoff begins

Sharing Stoke

December 30, 2009 / chollaball / Leave a comment

James put together an hysterical home video after him, me, Byron and Alex had an awesome ride up National and down Geronimo.

The reaction on MTBR was a skinny, lycra-wearing man’s version of Fight Club – desperate men desperately trying to reconcile their passion with their S.Os in our disassociative modern world.

I am very lucky. Beckie likes riding enough and has ridden National enough to indulge me, and tolerate a polite amount of bike stoke. In return, I must tolerate a polite amount of furniture stoke.

When i really go off on Sedona or Goat Camp or snowboard stokage — or today when i first made the Chutes and all but the last turn out of Yuri’s Folly at Phoenix Mtn Preserve (below) — i have to sit through NPR-stokage from her.

I fiddled in vain with the Xtranormal program, trying to make camera angles that accurately depict where a character smiles and nods but does not talk, but could not make it accurately portray one’s inside voice? Perhaps I can submit an enhancement request.

Me: And the snow was so rad!! We shredded through trees!!! Hip Deep!!!. We tore up first tracks on this cornice and it was pow-pow heaven!!!
Mrs. Cball (outside voice): wow that is cool.
Mrs. Cball (inside voice): and then the Chief of the CBO actually told the President of Goldman Sachs that his portfolio was not balanced. Can you F**KING believe he said that!! Homey just cracked off on that muthafugga!
Me: how was your day?
Mrs. Cball: and then the Chief of the CBO actually told the President of Goldman Sachs that his portfolio was not balanced. Can you F**KING believe he said that!! Homey just cracked off on that muthafugga!
Me (outside voice): wow that is cool.
Me (inside voice): And the snow was so rad!! We shredded through trees!!! Hip Deep!!!. We tore up first tracks on this cornice and it was pow-pow heaven!!!

It could be worse. At least we are polite, and avoid emasculating each other.

It could be better. It is a pretty big gap between us. But hardly the only one, of which there are many in any relationship. My wife did not know the significance of “Did you get me my Cheez Wiz, boy?” when i lobbed a tube of honey mustard at her, obtained by riding drunkenly up to Bashas and back for an assortment of gourmet mustards into which to dip our leftover xmas ham. Swallowing your stoke is like suffering with yellow mustard. Beckie does not know the significance of good mustard either.

I’ve tried to stoke Beckie’s stoke by buying her several nice bikes. The resulting coefficient-of-stoke-stoking is always positive, but regrettably not so potent as to become self-perpetuating ala a nucular reaction. Throwing money is still my best fallback move at xmas, and chicks always dig something new and shiny. Lo and behold, on the next day she rode the Bianchi for the first time in a long time, wearing new gloves, socks and (almost new) jersey. New helmet was available but forgone. This just prior to my pilgrimage for mustard, which she begrudgingly acknowledged was tastier. There is a strong foundation for a peaceful coexistence, if not victory

things don’t seem so hard on the intertubes

Retrospective

December 29, 2009 / beckie / Leave a comment

So I guess the ending of any year with a “9” at the end prompts the obligatory pondering of the past. It hadn’t really occurred to me that the decade was ending until a couple of days ago when the media started going crazy with retrospective pieces. As I let the realization of where we are in the space-time-continuum sink in a little, it seems odder and odder, and makes me feel older and older, that the awful ’00s are finally over.

We started this decade in Tucson, me in grad school, Jason working for one of many doomed-to-failure start-ups, living in a tiny, old house, next door to some crotchety neighbors who hated us, with Evil Jo, Kyler the one-eyed cat and a very sweet dog with a penchant for escaping from our 6-ft fence-enclosed yard. We had no money but lots of time. No kids, undemanding jobs, short commutes, simple house. Life was good. We spoiled the dog like our baby and I stressed about coming up with some sort of dissertation topic. I taught classes and worried about people taking me seriously. Jason played Frisbee, even commuting up to Phoenix to play. We were young.

Fast forward 10 years and now we have lived in our current house for almost 10 years. It’s bigger, more complicated, takes more work. We have a pool. And bills. A new very sweet dog, and a cat with two eyes. A long list of cats who have come and gone in that time (Smudge, meatplow, endo, slim, diego, argos…). Jo has moved on. Two kids. Long commutes. Stressful jobs that pay well. We have found professional success, but at the cost of giving up the flexibility that comes with less stressful careers. We have guilt about daycare. We tag-team on childcare so we don’t spend any time together. Jason no longer defines his life by Frisbee, but has successfully filled that hole full with a new obsession, bikes. I run marathons. I have wrinkles. Jason’s hair is getting grayer. We’ve both gotten thin, then fat, then thin, then (now) fat again.

These changes have been so gradual, a little bit every month or day, an incremental change with each new decision that builds on the last decision until one day you wake up and your life is unrecognizable from where you started. I now understand the mid-life crisis. I also understand the unexplainable joy that comes with the unconditional love of your child.

Pain and pleasure, risk and reward. Those very things that generate the most stress are the same things that give the most happiness. What a decade.

Open Presents, Drink Nog, Ride Bikes

December 28, 2009 / chollaball / 1 Comment

this was much more interesting to Beckie

a bell for every bike

i love my brain

*suspicious*

when BestBuy left a message on the machine about delivering a giant-ass TV, I was bummed the surprise was ruined. Then i was like “cool, my wife bought us a giant-ass TV!!”

once again, Beckie bought all the gadgets, I bought all the gear

Xmas Gift from G

December 27, 2009 / chollaball / Leave a comment

I had an idea to let G pick out a present for Alana. It was a subtle attempt to teach G about sharing and empathy, knowing that whatever we picked would be something she would reallllly like to play with, which would belong to Alana. It was an overt attempt to kill an afternoon letting her storm Toys’R’Us til they kicked us out or she burned it down.

the joystick should really be built into the throttle, G was bothered by this design flaw almost instantly

A lot of evaluation needed to occur, G flipflopped

very aggressive flip-flopping

i thought we were getting the dolphin, til a late rally by the giraffe

the immediate overflowing of sensitivity and sororitism did not occur. G took the big giraffe, and insisted on calling it Mommy Giraffe instead of Big Sister Giraffe. then she stormed off with both giraffes.

Perhaps we will have this resolved by President’s Day.

What to do if you see a drunk driver, or, at least a guy who will soon kill you ?

December 25, 2009 / chollaball / Leave a comment

Coming home from work, on the way to the gym I followed a guy in a flatbed tow truck for 3 miles — not intentionally, just ended up that way w. traffic and stoplights… Anywho, he spent about 2 miles of it partway in the bike lane, mostly weaving back and forth around in his lane. Not exactly swerving like a drunk, more just like a moron driving a crap@$$ truck who took up too much space? Do you figure it is what it is and he will see you on the road when it matters? My wife does that sometimes, except she drives a Prius, which in most cases will end up worse than the bike it hits, and she’s actually aware, just a kinda lazy driver.

I’ve been kinda sketched lately riding in traffic, especially since I did the exact route at nearly the same time the other day.

Do you call 911? Do you talk to the person when they stop? the consensus is no, no fucking way, just be paranoid and avoid, and call.

At best, he was a bad driver and a warning might do everyone some good. All those times you say, if only there was a cop around. on the other hand, he didn’t really cross the center lane or drive at erratic speeds. Should he get a cop coming down on him for a DUI?

I wasn’t stalking him, just got off the exit ramp behind him, couldn’t help notice him turn through the bike lane and stay in it, then was grimly fascinated by the disregard he showed for it. so when he got into his lane proper, and moved around, and came back, it was not ignorable to me.

Today I had an old woman start to turn and then stare at the 10 feet of me, the Masi, and Kila, and G in the Burley.

MAAD started this way, with phone calls, with grass roots.

I don’t want to hate on anyone. I don’t want the old lady to have to shell out $168 in fines and fees. But I don’t want to die either.

Hockey Night in Arizona

December 24, 2009 / chollaball / 3 Comments

2nd game this year, and G may be a fan for life. Tell her in the morning we are going to hockey, and she starts asking if she can get french fries and a hot dog. She says “our team is red” in the car ride over, and asks when we can start howling.

We don’t actually watch much hockey, its more an elaborate trip to an elaborate park where both girls get to run crazy. I think I watched 14 minutes of action total. Ironic that G was throwing a fit in the parking lot about how we’d miss the game when Mommy and Daddy were trying to get their tailgate on. We got her fries and a hot dog, and she promptly spilled her drink on the pile of extra napkins. Hurricane Genevieve gets her game face on.

you’d think this would get old after the 7th time

someone ate someone’s fries while someone was riding escalators

club-level provides a safe romping venue for a soon-to-be-standing baby

tropical storm Alana

DOH!

hope the staff has Windex

games are won in the corners

G is a fan of cheering

This made it 4-0 in the end of the 3rd, and we still had to drag G home.

STOKED!

December 23, 2009 / chollaball / Leave a comment

Report: Most College Males Admit To Regularly Getting Stoked

Hawes\Pass Mountain Loop, or the East Mesa Epic: the almost epic ride that needs a better name

December 20, 2009 / chollaball / 1 Comment

When I first did this ride, it was about the biggest ride I’d done. Hence the lofty name. How things have changed. Now it is just the Hawes\Pass Mtn Loop, which is an understated name in need of some color. Just shy of 4 hrs moving time, just shy of 4.5 total. It helps having a bike as fast as the Hei Hei. Just a nice spot’o’morning, before clocking in for Daddy DayCare while Beckie did an 18 mile run.

North of the Pass Mtn saddle, 2:00 – horses destroy trails

lunch
a

climbing to the towers

before dropping in

All week thinking about this ride, i thought this could be the day I got all 3 steep slots on Tower. I dropped the seat 4 inches, and despite punching a barrel cactus and leaving a toothpick sized splinter in my pinkie, i gobbled up the 3rd one before realizing I had left my fork locked and my propedal on. Well now, if having a baseline and knowing you got a first is not enough to confirm you’ve stepped up, doing it without suspension certainly is. I rocked the rest of the downhill, split a sidewall a mile from home, and pumped every quarter mile to limp in just under 4.5 hrs. The tire quickly faded from memory.

woot woot.

baselines are fun when you leave them behind.

I have been thinking of better names for this ride, and thus far have:

Passing the Red Sister
Pass the Red Twister
Hawes\Pass Mtn Intensely Colorful Loop

I need suggestions.

Parenting for Gnarness

Month: December 2009