Halloween at the barn

Tonight eleven people came by for treats: nine kids and two adults. The kids came before eight, and the adults came after nine. These two pals were intrepidly cruising the southern MB villages and towns seeking out the ideal Halloween situation. They found it. Gretna! There, according to the account, the kids were out on the streets unaccompanied, walking from house to house seeking comfort food. There the whole place "just felt right" as the lights in the houses were on, and people were welcoming little and large people alike into there vestibules and bestowing sweets upon them with care and well-wishes. 

While this all sounds wonderful, my experience of Halloween as a youngster was always one of dread. You see I was never allowed to go "begging." The closest I got to the experience was when mom and dad finally decided not to turn off the lights and go to church to escape the greedy begging trickers and treaters, but to at least give away some chocolate - is my first memory of this handing out a Mojo per person, or was it a stick of Juicy Fruit? Whatever the case, I know that we were not a generous sort of place those first few nights that I was allowed to hand out the treats to the heathen rabble. I do recall that in the last year or two my mom must have been somewhat embarrassed about the meagerness of our offerings, or that I put up a bit of a fuss about it, that we finally stepped-up to the mini-Oh Henry's. Again, my memory is foggy, and my brother may correct me - which I would welcome. 

You see, having broken them down, my younger brother was allowed to, or simply went at it without asking, beg. At least that's my self-pitying memory of it. Whatever the case, to this day my gut reaction to Halloween is one of dread, though I know it to be a great time of community and catharsis and comedy and candy! That's the way my kids experienced it, and that's the way it should be. We should let that inner rabble out to rouse once a year at least. Probably we ought to do this three or four times a year. We'd be better off for it, though we wouldn't always have to give out free candy when we do it. On the other hand why not?

Ride report

in:       3'C wind 10ks SE

out:    9'C wind 10ks SSW

   

Halloween at the Camp

The last "regular" race of the season was at Camp Assiniboia today. The pictures (courtesy of Cheryl and Johnny and Albert) will say more than I can, or should. Except that I hearkened back to my Boys Brigade years, and dressed up appropriately. (Don't ask where I got the shirt and pants - very authentic! I even fastened a green military beret to my helmet!). (singing) "On Stockaders, marching forward, on to victory ..."

   

WWJD

The problem with being like Jesus, or just channeling his spirit here on earth is that there's so much pressure to be right. Not that you have to be correct about everything, but your intentions, those have to be right. By definition as soon as they're off, you can no longer be Jesus incarnate. That's just the way this kind of thing works. So Paul's sitting in the prow of that aluminum fishing vessel, if indeed it makes sense to call that stubby-nosed bow a prow, and he's watching things unfold as he thought they might. They're drifting. The other three are entirely engrossed in fishing. Indeed, they are fishing out of the water a slimy two-foot jackfish that the older brother has hooked. They are completely into this endeavour. To the three of them the world is conflated to this fish, that hook, their net, and the gunwale over which they work.

As he watches the riverbank he notes that they likely have drifted farther downstream than the last time the father started the engine, turned the boat around and nosed it back upstream to the spot where they'd put in. He notes that, relative to the shore, the boat and the water appear to be moving faster. He turns around to look for an explanation as to what he imagines to be an increase in the sound of the river, and notes a disturbance in the water. At least he thinks it's a disturbance. He knows that if he was Jesus he would know for certain whether it was a disturbance or not, and whether or not the disturbance in the water was enough to be alarmed about. It's a reminder to him that he is not, in fact, Jesus, but just trying to see the world that way.

Given this realization his confidence wavers, which serves to exaggerate his fear of what he now fully believes awaits them downstream. What would Jesus do? Should he fall asleep in the front of the boat and wait to be awakened? Should he step overboard and walk to shore (believing that the rippling water will firmly support him as his running shoe touches it - a kind of water to wood miracle)? Should he suggest that they throw their lines over the other side of the boat? Being like Jesus gave him understanding and invincibility, but doubting being like Jesus gives him nothing but questions.


Ride report
in:      2'C wind 10ks S
out:   7'C wind 15 ks SSW

       

I get nervous

This is an observation. I've noticed it most lately when I'm racing cyclocross. I tell myself that I just need to stay calm and not worry about how well I do, but once we've started and I'm out there riding, especially during the first half of the race, I feel the nerves and worry. I worry about whether I'll run out of gas and not be able to finish. I worry that if I pass the riders in front of me, when I know that I can if I want to, that I won't be able to stay in front of them, or that I'll make a mistake. I worry about flatting. I worry about ramming my balls when I remount and doing serious damage (Seriously, who wants that?). But I know that all of this stuff distracts me from the race itself, and from riding as well as I can. 

Dave U says to me, at Cross-Tastic on Sunday, that he told a friend who rides in the A race that since he's finishing at about the same place in every race, he needs to do something different. "You know, just go as hard as you can out there and if you bonk you bonk. At least then you know that you went as hard as you could." 

Well I can see the sense in that. It's also intimidating to me, because then I'm going to worry that I'll bonk early, and end up DNFing or getting lapped/finishing way back. I know that I'm over-thinking it. I'm pretty sure that if I went hard, I'd still finish, and I'd probably finish better than I have so far this season. Then again, I've been pretty wasted by the end of most races, so I'm not sure how much better I can finish. Anyway, the question I have is, how much physical energy does being nervous and worrying about how well you'll do actually take out of me when I'm racing? Does it actually make my body less efficient? My hunch is that it does - if not physically, it must mentally. 

The other way I see this, for myself, is that I've never really liked participating in organized competitive sport. Sure I am a competitive individual and always want to go hard, but that's different than having a "killer instinct" and being able to "play to win." Most times I feel myself playing to "not lose," or to "not suck." Actually I'm often a "when the going get's tough just try to keep going" kind of player. I don't really set the bar high enough or, I'm okay with setting the bar a little lower. At least that's what I hear myself saying when I'm out there racing: "just finish well" or "don't do anything stupid." 

I think I could push harder if I could stop worrying about all this fear of failure stuff. I'm hoping that more racing will help to fix that. The more I race, the more normal it'll feel and the less I'll think about it. If I can just enjoy the exhilaration of being pushed by competition I'll compete better too. Having coached for the last few years I much better understand the value of competition and the necessity of an opponent to help you play better. The better the competition, the better you play. This seems to be a general rule. So I'm loving the race, and learning to embrace the effort needed to compete hard right to the end.

Ride report

in:       2'C wind calm

out:    8'C wind calm

   

Another Cross-asm

This Sunday the race was at Whittier Park, and was named Cross-Tastic. Not an overstatement. Not an overstatement at all. The course demanded much, a sweet much-ness. There were four barriers that required a dismount: First a muck pit down by the red, then a few logs and a series of steps up the bank, then two standard cx barriers, and finally a fiendish series of step up a hill, skitter down the same hill, and then step up the same hillside (pictured below).

Once again the pictures (thanks to Cheryl K) will speak as well. 

In addition, you can get a bike's eye view of what it was like to ride the course, via this video courtesy of Karlee Gendron and her bike. Pretty great!

I was so hot and bothered when I got home that I took my shoes into the shower with me, to reward them for their good work, and to get them good and clean. 

Ride report

in:      6'C wind 10ks SW

out:    9'C wind 10ks SW

South winds

After days, no weeks, of North winds, today it shifted and came in from the South. I hear it first on the weather news, and then when I step out to ride to work I'm immediately aware of the change. It's moist and trending warm. That is, even though it's still below freezing outside, you can feel that the warmth is coming. Do you know what I mean? I'm not sure how to quantify this because all of these conditions could be the same - below freezing, Fall, 15 k wind - and if the wind is from the North, the air would bite shrewdly. But if the wind comes from the South, the same conditions usually feel hopeful. At least at this time of the year.

Some weather guy from central Canada (of course) predicted, two weeks ago, that winter would come hard and fast and that it would be colder than average, with a smidge less snow. What does he know? El Nino? La Nina? Okay maybe these have some influence on things, but if my memory serves me close to correct, it was about 20 years ago that these weather guys started suggesting that these Latin-named currents were altering our weather, and that once we knew which current was in play, we'd know whether the weather would be more extreme in some way, or more moderate. Whatever. I'd like to have the hard data presented in the cold (or warming) light of day, without managing the numbers by scaling graphs to make the differences more pronounced. 

Winter's going to be winter, whenever it wants to be. Some winters hold the snow back until around Christmas, or even later. Most winters wait for Halloween. The last few have waited until after Remembrance Day. I like those the best. But there's really no use in predicting these long term trends. I prefer the more obvious short term observations. If the wind comes out of the South, things will get warmer, and often wetter too. If the wind is from the Northeast things will get colder, and likely wetter. If the wind comes out of the North, brrrr. If the wind comes out of the West, hold on because it'll likely blow hard. 

I love the wind. I hate it too. But I like it more than not. It lets you know what's coming. 

Ride report

in:       -3'C wind 15k S

out:    10'C wind 20k S

It's late

They smile at one another. It's awkward, but not the kind of awkward they'll regret later, the kind of awkward that they'll look back on remembering that conversation. The weight of it. The momentum. In a few years they'll look back on it from separate places. This moment will become that common bond that will, in fact, become their undoing. 

For now though they've just had drinks and they both want to go to bed. For now the only inkling of distress is in this man's far-flung reverie of another life. For now she shrugs, brushes her teeth, splashes water on her face and scans the mirror for blackheads, and uncertainty. It will be all right, she'll think. We'll go to bed and we'll make love and fix it, he'll say as he sits on the toilet. We'll wake up. We'll continue. 

This is what they both will think. And in the end they'll be right, which will surprise them.

Ride report

in:     -3'C wind 15ks NW

out:   6'C wind calm