2015 by the numbers

Using last year as a guide, but again with fewer logs:

• 62 books read (down about 4 from last year) or about 21,000 pages (down about 2,000 from last year)
• 45 movies watched (a couple more in theaters, but down about 60 movies overall)
• 2741 holes of disc golf in 153 rounds (up, up) of disc golf at 21 different courses (12 courses I'd never played before), although most rounds were at Johnny
• First disc golf tournament: Spring Fling at Bird's Nest, finished 37th out of 54 in the am division.
• 3 aces: Hole 10 with Buzz at Expo(1/17), Hole 8 at Johnny with KC Aviar (5/25), Hole 5 at Interlocken with Warship (10/10)
• 18 rounds of disc golf random draw doubles mostly with Winter Warriors
• Unknown meals of pizza, but reasonable and similar numbers to previous years
• 1 5k at about 20:03
• 1 pair of Hokas that I still haven't run much in
• 1 job application
• 0 job interviews 
• 1 childhood home emptied, 1 piano acquired
• 1 family camping trip to RMNP
• 1 fourteener hiked- Mt. Quandry
• 1 new child and many corresponding firsts
• 2 road trips- Sand Dunes and Arches National Park
• Lots of work travel, at least 17 states and a district visited, none new
• 3 foreign countries visited- Netherlands, Belgium, France
• 2 weddings attended- New Hampshire and Texas
• 1 Ultimate tournament played- Wildwood
• 1 season of spring league (rough) and 1 game of pickup Ultimate
• about 198 miles of bike-riding across the plains of Colorado in 3 days, including my first century since about 1997

Books 2015

1. The (Honest) Truth About Dishonesty
2. On the Road to Find OUt
3. The Last Girlfriend On Earth
4. Wayfaring Stranger
5. The Good Luck of Right Now
6. The Rosie Effect
7. Not That Kind of Girl
8. Loop Group
9. District Comics
10. Leaders Eat Last
11. The Idea Factory: Bell Labs and the Great Age of American Innovation
12. Mr. Mercedes
13. Dataclysm- Who We Are*
14. Murder In Georgetown
15. US
16. French Revolutions: Cycling the Tour de France
17. Funny Girl
18. NurtureShock
19. Le't Explore Diabetes with Owls
20. Sharp Objects
21. Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage
22. Stardust
23. My Life with the Walter Boys
24. All Joy and No Fun: The Pardox of Modern Parenthood
25. Choose Your Own Autobiography by Neil Patrick Harris
26. The Ocean at the End of the Lane
27. The lost continent
28. Americanah
29. Treasure Island!!!
30. The Cold Dish
31. Everything I Never Told You
32. Death Without Company
33. The Newlyweds
34. The World of Post Secret
35. The Half Brother
36. Year of the Dunk
37. The Martian
38. The Target
39. Modern Romance
40. Excellent Sheep
41. The Sleepwalker's Guide to Dancing
42. Memory Man
43. Wait for Signs
44. Subliminal: How Your Unconscious Mind Rules Your Behavior
45. The New Breed: Understanding and Equipping the 21st Century Volunteer
46. Any Other Name
47. The Bookseller
48. Hell's Corner
49. Egg & Spoon
50. Code Name Verity
51. The Girl in the Spider's Web
52. The Wild Things
53. When to Rob a Bank... And 131 More Warped Suggestions and Well-Intended Rants
54. Michael Jordan: The Life
55. Career of Evil
56. Guilty
Save As Draft- DID NOT FINISH, did not enjoy
57. Black Box Thinking: Why Most People Never Learn from their Mistakes
58. The Opposite of Spoiled
59. Rogue Lawyer
60. Operating Instructions: A Journal of my Son's First Year
61. Serafina and the Black Cloak
62. Girl on the Train

The Martian was my highest rated and I enjoyed it immensely. I have fond memories of Funny Girl, NurtureShock, and Americanah as well. Save as Draft was the biggest loser and The Idea Lab was the biggest disappointment. Not a bad year for reading though. It's nice to live close to the library.

Movies 2015

1. Maze Runner
2. Let's Be Cops
3. St. Vincent (theater)
4. In a World
5. The Promised Land
6. Lucy
7. Swingers (re-watch)
8. This is where I leave you
9. X-Men: Days of Future Past
10. Big Hero 6
11. McFarland, USA (theater)
12. Boyhood
13. Horrible Bosses 2
14. Birdman
15. Whiplash
16. Shawshank Redepmtion (re-watch)
17. ?
18. Goodfellas (re-watch)
19. Atlas Shrugged Part III
20. Dear White People
21. What If
22. Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1
23. Foxcatcher
24. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes
25. Wild
26. The Imitation Game
27. The Hundred Foot Journey
28. The Wedding Ringer
29. Inside Out (theater)
30. Focus
31. Creep
32. They Came Together
33. Rewrite
34. Tomorrowland (theater)
35. Willy Wonka (outside, rewatch)
36. Aloha
37. Back to the Future II (October 21, 2015 re-watch)
38. Still Alive
39. While We're Young
40. Project Almanac
41. Laggies
42. Spy
43. Love Actually (re-watch, per tradition)
44. Spectacular Now
45. The Cobbler

I'm way down on movies compared to previous years. More TV shows, more work, more other stuff. That's four in theaters, up from the previous couple years, especially by percentage of movies watched. St. Vincent and Inside Out were probably my favorites. They are way too many that I remember nothing about. Six I'd watched before.

Partying like it's 1985

By going to bed early?

The Royals won the World Series last night. I checked Twitter on commercial breaks, devoured the Internet stories, liked all my KC fans' Facebook posts, and reveled in the joy that my hometown won its first championship in 30 years.

My mother spent the rallies group texting with her friends. This is not my grandfather's transistor radio. Times have changed.

The things I like about this year's Royals are a lot like the things I liked about last year's team. They seem to be having fun. They have a great deal of confidence. They play good baseball. What I realized though, as we traveled deeper into the playoffs, is that the narratives that I read and heard from the announcers didn't always play out. Maybe KC did want it more, but haven't plenty of teams who have wanted it more lost?

And yes, they are a good contact team, but at least one of the Mets hurlers managed to strike them out in bunches so perhaps the "you can't strike these guys out," was closer to hyperbole. They appeared to be a good defensive team, but hyperbole appeared to strike again when viewers were told that these Royals just don't make mistakes. They made several, but they timed them better and found ways to get out of the jams.

The one that does appear to make sense is that these Royals were clutch. Maybe it couldn't last forever, but during this post-season run they were. They were pretty incredible after the 7th inning, and heck they had a guy come off the bench after a month to hit in a run. That's good stuff.

I can complain about the narratives, but as I think about it the narratives in my head don't add up either. I still believe in the announcer's jinx. "He hasn't hit a homerun in X days." I think it's going out when they say it about the bad guys. I could believe in the Royals heartily, but still couldn't quite believe that last night or even the night before that was going to be their night. I kept it quiet, perhaps a superstition of my own, a narrative I tell myself when I'm rooting on my teams.

This victory seems important somehow. Maybe not as important to KC as last year's near-victory which seemed to restore Kansas City's swagger, but like something the city needs. They've needed to believe and these past couple years have brought them together. It's another narrative, but KC was ready for something to be proud of. I'm proud to be connected. I wish I hadn't lost my Royals cap.

Slam

A little sample of my slam poetry from this morning (with appropriate credit to Rudy Francisco):
I was born with jaundice.
I hear that makes me yellow
but I have no idea if I've stayed that way.

I'm still learning to age gracefully.
I'm often going in places where I should be stopped.
I'm often stopped in places where I should be going.
I was born with bird legs
and I've been trying to fly ever since.

Wildwood: Dad Jokes edition

After 2 years off, one for a move and one for a lack of movement (read: torn ACL), it was time to return to the biggest beach Ultimate tournament in the world in Wildwood, NJ.

I'd been excited for months. My physical therapist had helped me prepare a plan going into the weekend that I'd hoped would get me ready for a return to Ultimate on sand. That plan reminded me of a few forgotten lessons about athletic endeavors: have a goal, make a plan, get after it. And a few lessons I have not forgotten: doing something consistently matters, a workout buddy is a big help, missing a day here and there isn't the same as quitting.

The plan was low on Ultimate, but I'd tried to get in some throws the week leading up to the fun.

Friday morning arrived, I was back in DC, and Wildwood was upon us. Yee-haw!

The drive up could have been a highlight most weeks of the year. Sam was at the wheel, dodging cars and seeking the fast lane, Matt was riding shotgun spreading his cheer while Kyle and I shared the backseat. Good conversation was abundant and the game of Trees was a another reunion with an old friend. The highlights had just begun.

In a dangerous first (for me), we arrived at the hotel in daylight with time to kill. The early start did wonders for our spirits and as more of the Dad Jokes team assembled including Stills and Alan, we headed to the beach. What started off as a game of catch became keep away. We couldn't help ourselves. Only dinner could coax us off the beach and back to the other spirits already obtained.

After a rowdy-ish Mexican meal served by an Eastern European waiter and a long walk to and from the Bolero for a spot of dancing, we retired to our hotel to continue enjoying one another's company.

Night became day and sleep became loud knocking on the door. Early morning accusations of a late night ruckus were waylaid. We managed to separate fact from fiction and our team from the team staying in the motel in the rooms below us. Thankfully, we were allowed to stay with some provisional (and some impossible?) warnings.

That stirring start not-with-standing, we arrived to the familiar scene of field upon field stretched out on the beach as teams in wild colors arrived slowly trudging through the sand. We were pink and blue. We were Dad Jokes. What time is it? Time to get a watch.

The players that would make up this team were a collection of talented and fun individuals that Sam once again pulled together for our 3-1 run through the beer division.

Sam- Our captain (for the 7th year- I've made 6?) assembled the team and dominates her match-ups. She's quick and her grabs out of the sky with the Wildwood coasters in the background are forever etched in my mind.

Bucky- Coached by Sam, she was a defensive workhorse, wanted crowd assistance for her layouts, and applied sunscreen on the regular. When she wasn't getting cited, she was such a positive intense presence.

Jessie- A silent dynamo. She was everywhere. Her throws were gorgeous and they just complimented the smart way she played every aspect of the game. She was quiet as advertised, but her game spoke volumes.

Press- The ukulele-playing Dad-joke generating athletic spark-plug. We counted on Press to take on some big match-ups. He relished the challenge, won more than his fair share and then found the endzone with some great vision.

Stills- He's protected our country from under the sea and finds a way to come out on top. His mastery of the hardest throw in the game can't match the mastery of his own motivation. The man can work and the man can score.

Alan- Battling back from an injury that has hobbled his dance moves, Alan made the most of his time in the sand. His throws are poetry and we leaned on them heavily. He did what it took on defense using that deadly combination of heights and smarts. He took Dad Jokes into creepy uncle jokes many times during the weekend, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Kyle- With a host of dad jokes of his own, Kyle came ready to play. He was masterful in playing within himself, but thrilling when it turned out that within himself included his special float and layout scores for days.

Varun- Though he shared the Texas connection of several on the team, Varun looked at home in the sand. His give and go cuts were things of beauty propelled by his speed. His throws were sweet and his decision-making top notch which showed up especially well when he was hounding opponents on defense.

Matt- With his piercing blue eyes, Matt flies through the air with the greatest of ease. If a disc can be caught, I want this guy going for it. The knee brace didn't appear to slow him down and it was very meaningful to once again get to share the field with one of my all time favorite teammates.

Joining this cast of characters and warming up a few dad jokes of my own, we found our first opponent "Definitely Not Cops". They had one man who towered over the rest at about 6 foot 10 inches. When they chose to use him, we couldn't stop him. Luckily for us, we hung around and pulled out the win. The team was learning about each other and we were happy to get a win.

From there, Saturday was mostly a cruise. We had a few lapses, but our movement was smooth. There was always a dump and the cuts went mostly unchallenged. After going down 2-0 in one game, we were soon up 9-2. Personally, I felt like I couldn't find my footing on defense. I was mired in sand and aging legs, but it didn't seem to matter. We had a good day, notching wins against teams that didn't get closer than about 5 points. The women of our opponents were totally overmatched and if there was one dominant man, there usually weren't more, so we could keep them in check. We played in the surf between games, told dad jokes, and avoided melting by staying in the shade. We counted on Alan to win the lag and then counted on disc movement to wear down our opponents.

We spent Saturday evening in the beer garden, munching pizza in line, playing an epic game of Trees somewhere in the crowd, and just enjoying the scene. Saturday night had more ukulele, but even less of the rowdy-ness. The motel may have been watching, but after a long day, we lounged, talked, and Bob Dylan-ed our night away until sleep came easily.

Up on Sunday and spread out in various directions, we came back together on the field and readied our weary legs. It's been a long time since I've had a Sunday and doubts were creeping in as my body creaked to life. I don't remember a lot about our first game, the quarterfinals. It was a bit more of a battle. Things were close in the middle. Alan probably snuck in a 2-pointer despite the fact that his dogs were barking and he thought his day was nearly done. It felt a little more like Sunday. Throws weren't quite as crisp, defense seemed a little closer. Mine included. This may have been the game where I finally made a play on defense. I snuck around a guy and tipped one away. Dad Jokes worked their way back up the field and I cut toward the endzone. Press saw it and zipped an inside out flick in my direction. I was on it for a step and then the sand bogged me down. Buoyed by the d, I jumped into the air and came down with the disc with a thud for a score. Bookends? Oh, yeah. Stills claimed I hadn't lost a step, but I declined his charity this time.

We closed out the game and moved on to the semi-finals. My mind is mostly a blur here as well. I don't remember playing poorly against the team from a minor planet. Things were a little chippy, some stall calls, some disagreements about moving the line, but I don't remember where the game slipped away. I got another d poking away a dump throw, but before I knew it the score was 10-6. We snagged a score as the horn blew to make it 10-7. We could prolong the game if we scored, but time was definitely running out. Someone remind me how this went down, but we got the disc back on a turn and punched in a score. Now, we had to pull, get the disc, score two points and that would keep the game going.

We got the D near our goal line, but that meant we had to work the disc back down the field so we could throw the full-field two-pointer. Most everyone was turned around now as we worked back toward their endzone and turned the disc. They gave it right back when they weren't sure which way they were going. We again worked the disc toward their endzone. Two points was our only way forward. Scoring anything else would have ended the game with a loss. We got the disc down the field and had Jessie's flick set up for our two point try. Jessie got hand-blocked. It all happened so fast that it was almost too stunning to realize. The other team poured back in to score. They only had inches to go. I'm told a foul may have been called on the throw, but that disappeared. Instead Jessie got a D by knocking it away from the girl who had just hand-blocked her. The disc was ours again and we were in good position to take another shot at a two pointer.

Varun raced down to the other endzone and set up on the left. My defender and his defender gave him a little space by camping out near the middle of the endzone. I stayed back as Jessie's dump. She sent the disc over to me. I eyed Varun and then saw Matt make his move down the right sideline. He was headed for that corner. I can only imagine that my glance at Varun froze the defense for just a split-second. Matt's man was giving chase. I wound up and threw a somewhat high release backhand across my body. With no mark, this was an easy throw to get off, but there wasn't much room on the other end. The throw headed toward the back corner. Some thought it was moving too fast and would go out of bounds. I don't even know if I was one of those people.

The two defenders from the middle of the endzone moved toward the disc, Matt expertly used his body to shield them. Matt's defender went up as well, but the disc was already past him. The disc seemed to slow right near the back of the endzone. Matt went up and grabbed it and the other team was stunned. Neither Matt nor Varun realized I'd made the throw. We were all thrilled, but not done.

We had to play d again. It was now universe point. We got the disc and with a man in a loincloth bearing down on him, Kyle laid out for another clutch grab (Edit? Perhaps the lay out came after the contact, based on photo evidence). It looked rough, but Kyle came up smiling. We had pulled out the victory and moved on to the finals.

It felt like we were a team of destiny then, but destiny can be fickle. After a tied joke-off, we won the lag. We battled well in the first game, utilizing the Alan to Sam connection for 2-pointers in thrilling fashion, but came up a bit short something like 6-7. We dominated the second game with an early 2-pointer and rolling ahead to something like 7-2.  The final game was to 5. The other team's men were fast. There was nowhere to hide except in their occasional miscue, but our destiny ran out. Early in the game to 5 a disc about to score glanced off our hands. The other team, grabbed it and sent it down the field for a 2 point score. We recovered a few points, but in a game to 5 we couldn't find an answer for their athleticism.

We were disappointed, but happy to be together. They say, 'it's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game'. I've struggled with that all my life, but this was a reminder that they might be on to something. I'm so proud I got to take part. I'm so happy my body let me play. I'm so pleased to make new friends and reunite with old ones in these battles that go on and on for as long as I can get away with it.

Until next year!

The no surprise 5k

It's been a long time since I've run a race. The ol' blog says March 2, 2014. It's been 489 days since I last raced. There might be a support group for that. It's been even longer since I raced a 5k, but I remembered it well.

At the Loveland Liberty 5k on this 4th of July, I let old habits guide me. I woke up ready to go with some nerves in my stomach. I arrived early and warmed up, sprinkled in a few of my favorite warm-up plyometrics, drank a little water, and headed to the start line.

My goal was to break 20 minutes. I've done a little training over the last six weeks, some hills, some weight lifting, some tempo runs and this felt like an attainable goal.

As I stood at the starting line, I had jitters and doubts. The doubts were seriously out-muscling the jitters. In honor of the 4th of July, the pre-start activities included The Star Spangled Banner. My doubts disappeared. It didn't matter if I ran fast. I got to run. There were a lot of things that mattered more than my time.

Boom went the cannon. A whole lot of runners exploded into their trot. I'd forgotten how slow casual races start. My pace wasn't going to be that fast, but it needed to be faster than that. At the first turn, I ran wide and started picking people off. I stayed wide for a quarter mile or so until I settled in behind a group of high school girls. They were wearing cleats and sounded like tap dancers. I sped up to get past them, but the alpha girl made her move at the same time. Tap, tap, tap, we raced on through the mile. I made another move and put a little distance between us, but the tapping wouldn't go away.

My ambition soon outstripped my training and the tapping grew louder. A small pack, now with only one tap dancer overtook me. I tried to stay in contact, but mile 2 proved to be a long one. I was pleased to remember that races take place all over, not just up front. I think I relearn this lesson every time. I surged a bit and caught a fading teen boy. I tried to encourage him to close the gap on the group that just passed him and come along with me, but my words seemed to have the opposite effect and he blew up and disappeared. I had only slightly better luck.

Nearing the final 800 meters, I looked up to see the green shorts and the flailing limbs of the tap dancer. I told myself to make a move. I knew I could overtake her. My body responded with a resounding two step surge and I made no progress.

800 meters turned into 200 meters and finally my mind convinced my body to surge. I closed the gap on the tap dancer, but was quickly running out of room. Tap dancer won the female division in 20:01. I crossed close behind in 20:03.

I was 17th overall, 3rd in my age division and have ample room for improvement. My oldest niece PRed and has closed the gap between us to under 8 minutes.

I have a goal that involves edging her out in 5k races all through high school. There are some naysayers out there, but all the best goals attract the naysayers, right?

March 29 and 30, Day 9 and 10

Day 9
We are nearing the conclusion of our trip. We lost an hour to French daylight savings time last night and couldn't get out the door before 11. After breakfast at a nearby boulangerie, I with my pain sportif and Clare with her pain au something, we walked along Canal St. Martin.

After walking breakfast, we discovered that Velobib, Velolib, the bikeshares wouldn't go for the chipless Americans. This was disappointing, though less so since it rained all day. We walked to Antoine & Lili with its cheery clothing and housewares and then pointed to 104, a Jen P. recommendation. We stopped along the way to snatch some quiche and then entered the warehouse, campus-looking cent quatre. I don't think we would have discovered this without the prompt, but it was enjoyable people-watching as promised. Youth abounded and much of that youth seemed to be practicing an art- dancing, singing, rehearsing a play. It was a neat space and we spent a good deal of time there. Clare returned for a nap and I returned for a refresher on where the heck we were now staying.

I then set my course to the Louvre. I was lost immediately, but followed signs to the Picasso museum, where I was scared off by the crowds. It's laughable now that I thought the crowds at the Louvre would be more manageable, but that was my plan. The Louvre was a Zoo-vre. I decided that milling about with thousands was not the afternoon I'd hoped so I made my exit on Rue de Rivoli. There a runner passed me. As I turned into the gardens, I realized that a run would be a fine thing to do. I wrapped my rain coat and sweatshirt around my waist, hiked up my new gray pants and began my jog.

I nearly left my hat behind, but jogged back to grab it from the ground. I circled the garden chasing other Louvre runners and then took to the streets with an eye on the Eiffel Tower.  I jogged through a maze and past a host of people out for a Sunday in Paris. I made it past the tower when I was passed by a man in a semi-marathon Paris T-shirt. I gave chase for a while, but wore out quickly. I crossed a fine multi-purpose bridge- top for trains, bottom for cars, bikes, and pedestrians. I walked up a hill, down the street to the Arc de Triomphe then down the Champs Elysee's to the Metro.

For dinner it was Italian somewhere in the 11th. Tomorrow is the last full day. It may include a visit to Eiffel. It probably will include a patisserie. Au revoir.

Reflections on Day 10 more than a month later
It ended like the others with sleep, but before that there was the Eiffel Tower. We went at night and I eagerly waited in line to go up. The line was long, but manageable. I merrily headed to the elevator after the security check and then as we began the ascent I was gripped by fear. Do I have a fear of heights? Why yes, yes I do. I shakily made it out of the elevator and slowly regained a bit of comfort as we took in the sights of Paris at night. Then, we headed up to the top. I couldn't even look out on the way up this time. I could only stare up and let discomfort bubble inside of me. We exited the elevator into an enclosed area and I felt mostly ok. When we climbed the stairs to go outside 276 meters above the ground, my legs felt heavy. I gripped my backpack, now on my chest, and slowly made my way into the wind. The view hadn't changed much from the previous level and I again found some level of comfort in my discomfort. Then the hourly flashing lights threw me for a bit of a loop, but I was able to partly settle down again. We identified places we'd been and places we hadn't. We celebrated Clare's birthday with a macaroon and then we made our way back down. We found other Coloradans in our elevator and then took the stairs down the last part. My fear of heights remained, but self-talk got me through. It was a strange visit to the Eiffel Tower, but it was at the end of a filling day.

There had been hot and cold chocolate at Angelina's, strange taxidermy at Deyrolle, and more wandering to shops like Artazart and Laduree for last minute gifts and souvenirs. We revisited a few favorites, at least in memory, and again munched on a few delicious French treats. I'm sure there was more enjoyed but mostly forgotten. It was a successful vacation, though worries of bed bugs would remain for a week or two. We were ready to return home, but will want to return.

A bientot.

Day 7, March 27 and 8, March 28

The night's sleep was rough but we made it last. After a slow start we grabbed Metro and headed to Notre Dame, took some pics, searched but failed to find pont zero, and then wandered over to Shakespeare and Co. It was an excellent bookstore, but we resisted making a purchase (this time). From there we cruised the Jardin du Luxembourg. It was nice to see flowers blooming. Ah, springtime in Paris or something to that effect. From there it was on to the Pantheon where Foucalt's pendulum isn't (due to construction) and a stop for snacking quiche.

Wander and eat. That was the theme of today. We cruised the 6th Arr., Clare's phone died, we got lost and hungry, stopped off for some samiches (unofficial French) at some famous guy's boulangerie. They were not amazing. Neither was my orange Fanta. Remind me to avoid that tomorrow. We headed back by the hunchback's house and on to ile St. Louis. We stopped at first Bertillion ice cream dealer we could find. It looked seedier than I remembered, but there was a line and then an angry French proprietor and then a relocated line and then delicious sweet ice cream. It turns out Bertillion has overtaken the ile with dealers at nearly every entrance. My pistache was excellent though. Clare liker her tiramisu to the tune of pretty good.

After ice cream, we headed home for an afternoon nap. Post-nap we cruised the Champs-Elysees, took a jog to the ? Arr and had dinner at a creperie L'Atlier. I had an ok galette (grammelet?), a tasty cider and a superb butter and sugar crepe. We then took a walk on the Seine, passed by the art projected on the Royal Palais and returned by Metro to our un peu maison. A bientot.

Day 8
Fully embracing this schedule, we didn't roll out until about 11 AM. We headed to some shops on Clare's list in the 3rd. I was desperate for a pain au chocolate, so we snagged one before going to Musee Carnavalet- gratuie- a museum of the history of Paris. I found the decimal clock to be particularly interesting. As part of the revolution the rebels(?) devised a system of time in increments of 10. The clockmakers had a fit. I need to do more research on this. I also especially enjoyed the paintings of Paris in the winter. Fighting museum fatigue, we had a 2 PM brunch at la boehme.It was tasty, especially my carrot ginger soup and our almond cake dessert. We hit a few more shops including for tea at Mrage a Freer's and BHV which was teaming with people. We took a brief rest by the Seine, but Clare needed more. She left me at Hotel de Ville where I waited about an hour in line to see the photoreporter Photo Magnum exhibit. There were about 15 photos for each decade or so in Paris. Many were of people, powerful portraits, but some were of events and a few had strong diagonals and use of dark and light that were just amazing. I couldn't even put my finger on what made a lot of the photos great.

I returned to the apartment and Clare dramatically announced that we needed to leave because of bed bugs. Apparently the last guest had bits. Air BnB refunded money and asked that we get a hotel. The host was very concerned and generous. We laundered some and got out of the 10th. Clare had expertly located a hotel in the 11th and we walked over. We've gone from a tiny apartment to a room about the size of our bedroom at home. I'm seeing the benefits of Air BnB more clearly now, but I'm hopeful I will like this bed and shower better. Maybe the bed bugs will be a false alarm too. One can hope.

We had a late dinner at Cafe Gaston. I had a Bramble French. It was gin-based. I've decided that gin tastes like old ladies. I had duck. Clare had lamb. She was quite pleased. We then sprung for another dessert with Tom and Donna (Parks & Rec) flair. It feels a bit like we the walls are closing in here at Motel de Matello, but I think I can make it work for 3 nights. Here's hoping.

P.S. Espresso at brunch; Giant colon tour with a translator before noon.

Day 4 to Day 6- A metaphor for life?

Day 4: When Brian C. says, "Visit the Sex Museum," you visit the sex museum.

We started the day early biking in bike rush hour traffic and then standing for about an hour to get into the Anne Frank house. The line just kept growing while we waited. The house and the words from the diary are dramatic and powerful, but the crowd is sizable and at times made it hard to focus.

From Anne Frank, we wandered a bit and finally settled on some snacking croissants. We ate and walked, every bit an American, back to our bikes which we then rode confidently to the sex museum. The museum was as advertised, odd, amusing, and not terribly informative. My biggest takeaway was that not that much has changed, well, ever. We had lunch at the Pancake Bakery. It was something we could agree on. Clare tried poffertjes and I stuck with pannekoekn. Yum.

After lunch it was on to the red light district. It was about 2 PM on a Tuesday and the vibe was still odd. There were packs of men roaming the streets. The red-illuminated windows were lower and more prevalent than I'd expected. I found it odd that most of this took place in the shadow of a church. Clare started a short list of what women in the windows were doing, some smiled and flirted, many were texting, one was eating a banana, some seemed to avoid the windows and others just stood there. It was all very strange and left me with many questions. None I was prepared to ask.

From the district we returned to our bikes and tried to outrun the rain. We stopped in a cool screen printing shop and then went home to nap. We napped into the evening and had a night at our faux-home including Clare walloping me in a game of cribbage.

Tomorrow is it. I feel like there is so much still to do, although there's only a few things I really plan to do. A metaphor for life? my own lack of ambition? Perhaps Van Gogh will know.

Day 5/ March 25: I did not want to wake up today. I'm not sure what is going on, but I didn't get up until 9:45. We hopped on our bikes in some classic grey rainy Netherlands weather. We hightailed it to the Van Gogh museum and hardly had to wait in line. The museum was crowded, but well organized, yielding insight into Van Gogh's process and outlining his life. We had lunch at nearby Mem's (or Allen's if I'm reading the signs)- paninis and teas before walking around the neighborhood called Pip. We finished Pip off at FOAM, the photography museum.

The first exhibit was enjoyable, memories of flashbulbs, the photographer used large sections of black or white in his compositions. The other exhibits were interesting in theory. Post-FOAM, we shared a croquette at Holtkamp, said to be the best. It did not disappoint. It was like eating a delicious stew in a fried bowl.

We returned to our apartment, but all my sleep must have left me with energy. I wandered again through Westerpark, the gas works, and circled back through neighborhoods. I decided walking is good when you want to explore at a slow pace, but biking is good to cover more distance when your direction is clear(er). Clare will vouch for this since a bus nearly ran us off the road today. Our left turns need work, but I remained amazed of biking in Amsterdam.

I had takeaway shoarma for dinner. It wasn't as good as I remembered, but the place I remember seemed fancier. We leave tomorrow. I'd like to return to the Netherlands, but I'm not sure I need much longer in Amsterdam.

Day 6:  We woke up early and took efficient public transit to Amsterdam Centraal. There we waited for our train to Brussels that was a train to Paris. Poof, we were in Brussels. We cruised by the Grand Palace, had some seafood at the recommended Nordeeze (not bbq). I had shrimp croquettes. They would have been amazing without the shrimp. Clare had fried mussels (in Brussels). She was pleased.

From there we pointed our peckers to Mannekin Pis, but were waylaid by waffles. We chose leige with Belgian chocolate. Ooh la la. I could have had waffles for days. Notice a theme?

We joined the hordes at Mannekin Pis. I knew it was small, but I still remember being considerably more amused at age 6. More amusing these days were the references- Mannekin Pils, Mannekin Bis(tro)and Mannekin Frites complete with peeing fry logo. The rain was falling and Clare elected to return to the station. I hated to wait so long for a train, so chose to wander Brussels. This didn't really pay off except I found a great playground with various levels and rooms. Also, I got lost several times. For a while I used bikeshare maps to navigate, but then had to turn to Clare's phone. It's good to get lost and have the heart racing now and again.

Poof, we're in Paris. Our studio apartment is small, but should be suitable here in 10 Arr. The traffic is loud now, but will hopefully settle. We've headed out to cruise the canal and discovered a wonderful bookstore, Artazart. I wanted several items that I will probably resist- pinhole cameras, satchels, and some neat design books. We then landed at a cafe, Cafe Marine and ordered drinks although we really wanted dinner.

I made a triumphant return to Pelforth Brune and then played the game of 'catch-the-waiter's-eye'. After losing a while, I found my confidence (in a Brune?). I asked about dinner, we ordered and ate delicious rabbit and then I asked for the check. Perhaps I made up for my bumbling in Amsterdam. My French isn't conversational, but my hunger was serious.

The Quinquennial Celebration- Spring- Day 1-3 - March 21-23

We flew from Denver to Iceland. The flight wasn't bad. I knocked out 3 movies: Birdman, Whiplash, Shawshank Redemption. They got better the closer I got to Iceland. We were in Iceland with the sunrise, but only had time for a pit stop before it was on to Amsterdam.

I struggled on that leg of the trip, but finally got a few winks. We arrived starving and tired; ate wraps and drank smoothies at an airport store and boarded a train to Central Station. After a little searching we then boarded a bus to our AirBnB apartment near Westerpark. It's a cute 2-room join on the third story. The bathroom is a closet, but there's plenty of room otherwise. We're getting comfortable.

Clare took a nap; I wandered a bit. Ask me about the Polyp Party. No, don't, it's a carnival ride shaped like an octopus. I returned for a short nap and then we headed to the old gasworks for dinner. Our first choice place was busy and we were too spent for inquiries, so we moved on to Pizza Pazzani. The meal tasted good in its averageness. We felt guilty about our lack of Dutch, although everyone has been very accommodating of our English. A few Dutch phrases have come to mind, but I lack the confidence to wield them. Perhaps sleep will help. Let's go find out.

Day 2- March 22
At about 3 AM it seemed that sleep might be used up, but this proved untrue. We finally got up at 8. After sprinkles for breakfast, we began a modified reverse walking tour of Jordaan. We passed the long lines of Anne Frank, popped in the Cheese Museum, window shopped and took photos of shudders, canals and bikes until lunch time at the Screaming Bean. After lunch we rode some trains out to Maarn where Jolieke and Pim met us at the station .Wis and Bart were still napping, but we soon scooped them up and all headed to the Amersfoort zoo. Pim learned to say "I want to show you the lions," but was otherwise unconvinced that we could not speak Dutch. We looked at animals, slid on slides, and rode the train. It was an enjoyable afternoon with good company and good catching up. We had pannenkoeken at Jagershuys. If I'd been there (and I suspect I had), like the zoo, it had probably been remodeled in the last 30 years.

J took us through Doorn and for a quick look at my old house. The yard had been re-done and it looked as though Theo was long gone (he is), but from the outside the house looked very much the same. It failed to stir many memories; a bit of badminton, a time locked in Becky's room, but I was still pleased to see it. We returned to Jolieke's for tea and then headed back to our temp home in Amsterdam. It will be good to see them all again in July when they visit the states. Almost 15 years without a visit, now 2 in 1 year. Life is funny.

Best Pim story: Pim gave us licorice and stroop wafels. J said Pim wanted to eat the licorice, but she was able to explain that we couldn't get it in the states. Pim now thinks that all his suitcases for their holiday should be filled with licorice. This seems pretty wise to me.

Day 3- March 23
I woke up dead today. If that wasn't jet lag, I don't know what is. Once Clare got me going, we headed to catch a boat- a canal boat. We toured the city by waterway, eventually stopping for club sandwiches at Homemade. We boated on back toward home. I took out one of the apartment bikes and set my course for Sloterpark disc golf. It took 3 trips around the block, but I finally found my way. At least until I got lost again. Despite my troubles, the bike ride was heaven. It's amazing that cars yield, that there are bike traffic jams, and that there are so many good bike paths. It's like a dream.

I had a tough time navigating the disc golf course, but managed to hand on to my disc and only skip 4 holes. There was no one on the course. No one. People stared at me in awe. They had no idea what I was doing. The course was ok, ignoring the difficult to follow layout, but narrow in a lot of places. I could have used a guide and some more familiar discs (not the Roc).

Once finished I headed home on the glorious bike paths and into bike rush hour. C made spaghetti and meatballs for dinner after a frits snack. We took an after dinner walk to get some Amsterdam-at-night photos. We capped off the evening with Stoelen, some sort of apple croissant-like treat. Tomorrow we're going to try to beat or brave the line at the Anne Frank Huis.

A return

Standing, held in a half-nelson by my own lungs, I coughed and heaved near the back of the endzone on our sideline. Nearly 360 days of attrition, of sitting at a computer, of disc golf and walking serving as my exercise, were now reminding me of my own mortality.

The reminders are coming too frequently lately.

On the verge of losing my PB&J, I regained control before coughing and heaving another spell. Finally after way too long, my body seemed to settle. My new team had just lost our first game 13-1, but I was so happy to be back out there playing, the score hardly mattered. The coughing made me concerned about a second game, but thankfully my body rallied.

I'd been nervous about this return to Ultimate for days. I played some disc golf that morning to try to calm my nerves. My heart rate remained elevated, but at least I was distracted. I avoided starting the first game, but then it came my turn to play as my weary teammates looked to the sidelines for a substitute. I didn't really have time to consider the moment any longer. I just stepped on the field and let instinct take over.

I'd considered wearing long pants to hide my brace, but chose comfort and honesty over trying to hide a weakness. All my weaknesses aren't braced anyway. I've lost step, an inch. I've barely thrown for a year. I've been away from the game because it's been too hard to try to stay around this time. The distance made me miss it and here I was back for a second game.

My knee felt ok. The rest of me was struggling a bit. I didn't seem to have an extra gear. That gear had been fading before last year. I tried to play smarter, but it's a lot easier to be smart when you're fast. Still, as we entered game two, I was contributing. The sun was shining and my new team was trying to figure out how to work together.

I kept volunteering to handle. It seemed to fill a need and it conserved some of my energy. I did get to catch one long pass deep. The throw was short and a female poached off her player to get in my lane. I started to jump and realized that she had position so I stayed grounded. She macked it and I ran it down, dumped it off and went in for the score. I threw a couple of flick hucks as well. A few times my disc golf grips confused me for a split-second, but overall those throws seemed to have helped my sense of power and distance. The first huck was swallowed by the wind, but the second one was in the other direction and drifted to my streaking teammate for the score. I tossed a few away as well.

We had a good half, but the game got away from us. I was not the only one running low on energy. Some soreness had started to creep in to my muscles as they recalled the effort it takes to play. It was a day like so many others with some good things and some bad.

I left with a smile one my face. It had been too long since I'd been on the field. Now, several days later, it almost feels like I could do it again.

Soon, very soon.

Resolutions

Resolved:

1. Visit 5 new non-Denver-metro area, Colorado locations
2. Push-ups every day (hopefully after more exercise)
3. Stretch every day

2014 by the numbers (a year of fewer logs)

Using last year as a guide:

• 66 books read (down 10 from last year) or 23,192 pages (down about 4,000 from last year)
• 103 movies watched (down 9, 2 fewer in theaters, 2 fewer re-runs)
• 1059 holes of disc golf in 58 rounds (down from 114) of disc golf at 13 different courses (7 new ones from last year)
• 3 aces at the new short Johnny Roberts on 9/4 hole 16, 10/14 hole 1, 12/18 hole 14
• 6 rounds of disc golf random draw doubles (although 2 were Cali/doubles alone) with Winter Warriors
• 16 meals of pizza
• 1 labored 10k
• 2 job applications
• 0 job interviews 
• 1 move down the street to a new old house
• 2 road trips, one to Missouri and one to Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks
• 1 family trip to San Diego
• 1 wedding trip to Wisconsin
• 9 states visited, none new
• 0 foreign countries visited, however we did go glamping in Montana. That's similar, right? 
• 1 wedding attended
• 0 Ultimate tournaments played 
• 1 torn ACL resulting in my first surgery and a long long long long recovery (ongoing)
• 184 miles of bike-riding across the plains of Colorado in 3 days

Books 2014

Another good year for reading, though not one for five-star efforts.

1. The Girl who was on Fire
2. The Rosie Project
3. Millionaire Teacher
4. The Lowland
5. Teacher Man
6. Truth in Advertising
7. A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Future
8. The Picture of Dorian Gray
9. Long Lost
10. Lonesome Dove
11. David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the art of Battling Giants
12. The Curiosity
13. The Memory of Running
14. Suburban Nation
15. Little Bee
16. Inferno
17. The Circle
18. The Art of Travel
19. The Universe vs. Alex Woods
20. The Meaning of Sports
21. Screwball: A Novel
22. Stitches
23. Full Upright and Locked Position
24. The Jelly Effect
25. The Best American Short Stories 2012
26. The Wolf of Wall Street
27. The Diaries of Adam and Eve
28. Attachments
29. Play Dead
30. Skippy Dies
31. Hold Tight
32. The Millionaire Next Door
33. The Unchangeable Spots of Leopards
34. This is the story of a happy marriage
35. Top Dog: The Science of Winning and Losing
36. You Remind Me of Me
37. Frog Music
38. The Magician 
39. The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry
40. True Evil
41. Landline
42. Pilgrims Wilderness: A true story of faith and madness on the Alaskan frontier
43. If only you people could follow directions
44. The Luminaries
45. Parentology
46. Think Like a Freak
47. The Power of Habit
48. Your Fathers, Where Are They? And the Prophets, do they live forever?
49. The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P.
50. The Financial Lives of Poets
51. Tenth of December
52. Jim Henson: The Biography
53. Sycamore Row
54. Let's Get Lost
55. Alif the Unseen
56. To Rise Again at a Decent Hour
57. Yes Please
58. The Buddha Walks into a bar
59. Start with Why
60. Dark Places
61. The Cuckoo's Calling
62. The Silkworm
63. Missing You
64. This is a book
65. Slow Man
66. Running with the Buffaloes

Most excited by The Lowland, Lonesome Dove, The Circle, The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P., The Unchangeable Spots of Leopards, Running with the Buffaloes.

Movies 2014

This doesn't include the many TV shows I also watched, but as tradition dictates, here we go:

1. Jobs
2. The Village Barbershop
3. Road Trip (re-watch)
4. The Internship
5. Finding Bliss
6. Bachelorettes (re-watch during chores)
7. Her (theater)
8. Monster University
9. The Heat
10. Cool Hand Luke (re-watch)
11. Last Vegas
12. Don Jon
13. Ender's Game
14. About Time
15. The English Teacher
16. Peace, Love, & Misunderstanding
17. Some Girl(s)
18. Lost in Translation (re-watch)
19. The Money Pit (re-watch)
20. Veronica Mars
21. To do List
22. Rush
23. The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest
24. The Names of Love
25. The Bling Ring
26. Splinterheads
27. A.C.O.D
28. Nebraska
29. The Book Thief
30. The Jane Austen Book Club
31. The Lone Ranger
32. Definitely Maybe (re-watch)
33. Thanks for Sharing
34. Back to the Future (re-watch)
35. Back to the Future III (re-watch)
36. Take me home tonight
37. 3 Idiots
38. Next
39. American Hustle
40. Saving Mr. Banks
41. Anchorman 2 (couldn't finish)
42. The Details
43. Sexting
44. World War Z
45. August: Osage County
46. The Wolverine
47. Boy (drifted in and out)
48. Happy Gilmore (re-watch)
49. Austenland
50. RIPD
51. Sleepless in Seattle (re-watch)
52. Non-Stop
53. The Grand Budapest Hotel
54. The Other Woman
55. Music & Lyrics (re-watch)
56. The Goonies (re-watch, Old Town square)
57. Much Ado about Nothing (Joss Whedon)
58. Terri
59. Frankie Go Boom
60. Dallas Buyers Club
61. The Secret Life of Walter Mitty
62. Thor: Lost World
63. The Night We Never Met (drifted in and out)
64. Lee Daniels "The Butler"
65. The Muppets Most Wanted
66. Elizabethtown (re-watch, re-suffer)
67. Mrs. Henderson Presents
68. Wolf of Wall Street (quit at 2 hours)
69. Hunger Games Catching Fire (re-watch, Old Town)
70. Captain Phillips
71. Divergent
72. The Other Guys
73. Delivery Man
74. Lola Versus
75. Monuments Men
76. Ghosts of Girlfriends Past
77. You will meet a tall dark stranger
78. Gone Girl (Theater)
79. The Way Way Back
80. Lego: The Movie
81. A League of Their Own (re-watch)
82. The Fault in Our Stars
83. Neighbors
84. Groundhog Day (re-watch)
85. The Brass Teapot
86. Herbie Rides Again (re-watch)
87. New York, I Love You
88. Draft Day
89. The Thomas Crowne Affair (re-watch)
90. How to Fall in Love
91. Sex Tape
92. Future Boyfriend
93. Acceptance
94. Detroit Unleaded
95. Bad Words
96. Love Actually (re-watch, Christmas tree)
97. The Love Bug (re-watch)
98. Begin Again
99. Guardians of the Galaxy
100. Hitched for the Holidays
101. Emmett Otter's Jug Band Christmas
102. I give it a year
103. Gravity

That's two in the theater (wow!) and twenty second or more viewings. There was lots of disappointment. Considerable recency bias, but Nebraska, The Way Way Back, The Brass Teapot, Gone Girl and Gravity strike me as the most memorable. 

A nicer Christmas Poem

Under the mistletoe
Santa and Mrs. Claus
meet an Elf on the Shelf

They share cookies and gossip
noting the naughty
but focusing on the nice

Rudolph slides in and
jumpstarts the party
Frosty arrives to sing
a tune

Where is Jesus?
He didn't RSVP
But that's ok

A nice Christmas Poem

What do you mean
all the icing tastes the same?

Green is mint
Red is cherry
Yellow is best

Food coloring has no flavor
added to white icing

Merry Christmas to you too, Mom

Excuse me sir, is that bandwagon full?

Baseball has faded in and out of my consciousness since the strike in 1994. I've had years where I was lenient in my punishment of the sport during the last twenty years, but the games I've been to in that time still number less than one per year. The arrival of baseball in Washington DC coincided with some of my leniency. The newness there was quickly replaced by talent and I attended a few more of the old ball games.

I always had some sense of the Royals during those years. My sense was that they weren't doing well. I'd read about their farm system and how great it was. It seemed possible with what little I know and how often I saw their best players, the only ones whose names I knew, they'd all ended up on someone else's successful roster.

I didn't tune in, certainly not on a transistor radio, and tracking standings is a fuzzy childhood breakfast memory that fell somewhere before the comics and after a cursory glance at the sports page headlines. The Internet has brought me back to the sports page headlines and baseball makes those headlines in the summer. I read the Washington Post and it tells the tales of the Nationals and the Orioles. The Nationals always felt like somebody else's team. And for a while somebody else's team was losing just like my old team, the Royals. The Orioles were somebody else's team. Baltimore is incredibly far away from DC, perhaps especially because it's only 40 miles away. The Post hyped the team and we all pinned our hopes on Strasburg and Harper and a team of Nats. Things got exciting, but my attention got diverted. Baseball was still there though. There were Cardinals games that had to be watched after wedding rehearsals. There were Phillies fans who tried to be more obnoxious than Boston fans who were trying to be more obnoxious than Yankees fans. I stayed out of that fray, only watching it in passing.

For some reason, I started to long for home. I bought a Royals hat, there in the 26th year without a playoff appearance. I didn't really tune in more, but I satisfied a need to identify where I was from. I wore the hat proudly. It's my favorite color and identifies my home. I could barely remember baseball success, but it was important to show my support, not necessarily to the Royals, but to Kansas City. Something about roots and the trees that grow ever taller.

I moved from DC out to Colorado. The hat became a conversation piece. People here know someone from KC or have a connection of their own. It wasn't too far away to consider. It was just far enough away to discuss. The conversations weren't always about the Royals and if they were I could hardly hold my own. Baseball hasn't been the same without my grandpa. He kept it interesting. He bought me that transistor radio. He listened to his own with one earpiece plugged in. He taught me how to keep score and had a loyalty to the Royals and to sports like no one else I knew. Baseball will always be connected in my mind with him.

About three weeks ago, I heard that the Royals might win their division. The paper no longer passes by my breakfast table and the standings don't seem as powerful or as easy to find on the Internet. I found myself starting to search for the standings. I started to check on those boys in blue to see how they were doing. They struggled against the Tigers and despite some late season drama lost the division lead, but earned a wild card bid.

The news that the Royals were in the playoffs for the first time in 29 years was a popular sports talk conversation. It's been so long since the Royals were in the playoffs that I didn't even realize that the Wildcard game was not a series, just a game. I went to bed before it was over and woke up to realize that the Royals had more playoffs to play.

I still haven't mustered the energy to find a game or even stay up to see one to its finish. I'll wear my hat proudly, wave my Facebook status updates, and keep checking on the team. I'm not the fan of baseball or the Royals that I once was (I don't even have a Royals watch any more), but if there's room on the bandwagon, I'm happy to jump on. These Royals look like they are having fun. I like a team having fun and I like an underdog story.

These guys might win me all the way over yet. If they don't, I wouldn't mind if they just won it all. I'm rooting for KC.

Pedal the Plains 2014- "My butt hurt too much to sit and my legs were too tired to stand"

There were the big themes of community, being an athlete, and self-propulsion. Those themes like my memories are just flashes. The pieces don't seem to add up to the whole, but the soreness in my legs and the reluctant smile on my face suggest there was so much more. More than the clanging of my fender, the stench of manure, the cornfields framing the road before opening up to blue sky that didn't end. Cyclists were ahead and behind (mostly ahead) as far as I could see and I was pedaling, pedaling, pedaling for 184 miles.

On Friday, Eagle, Dragon, and I (the Whippoorwill of the trip) met up with Hawk at the starting line of Wiggins. The town of 900 was flooded with cyclists unloading cars, registering and getting ready to pedal the plains. Post-introductory haikus, we got off to a leisurely start about an hour after a portion of the masses. We rolled slowly on soaking up the sun and the education and aid spots. I learned three things at the education stops that day:  1. Farmers (represented here) are opposed to proposition 105 because they would like federal standards for GMO labeling and because the inconsistencies across state lines in labeling can be costly. 2. That smell was sweet beets. 3. The job of Captain Corn-elius is a hot one.

We'd travel 34 miles in about 5.5 hours (less than 3 of ride time). The sun was warm which only contributed to the feeling that all of this was just a warm up.  We'd arrive in Fort Morgan for the first night's festivities. Those festivities included camping on a high school football field and showering in an increasingly stinky locker room. They also included the arrival of Snake with dinner. Eagle cooked up some fine burritos and we chowed down while the camp emptied to head to town. We'd make our way to town later to catch a few tunes care of the Atomic Drifters. The kids seemed to enjoy the show, or at least their light up whirly-birds. I've never seen so many toys flying through the air. It was more captivating than the car show.

We dodged the sprinklers that others had to battle late Friday night and enjoyed some of Eagle's oatmeal. We were out by 8:15 and behind most of the crowd. Saturday was the Century option day and there were some extra nerves to go around. Hawk was off early. Eagle, Snake, and I tried to give chase, but Snake quickly fell back into his own pace. I hung with Eagle for a bit and we were joined by a powerhouse of a man. I couldn't keep on pace with those two and fell into my own rhythm.

At the aid station in Brush! (the exclamation point is official, but has to be tongue-in-cheek, right?), I spotted Eagle and he headed out still trying to chase down Hawk. I enjoyed the Brush! food and drinks and waited a while to see if I'd spot Snake. We were all a little worried about Dragon because his bike and his fitness have been giving him some trouble, but figured the support in the ride was strong and he could ask for help if he needed it. Snake pulled up soon after and we rode off together. He was riding the century and had a plan. He couldn't dilly dally at aid stations if he was going to finish prior to the 6 PM course closure.

From Brush! I decided I should ride with Snake until my turn off. It was nice to ride with him and chat and have someone to root on. Our pace wasn't quite the same. I couldn't drag him up the hills and as a big guy he wasn't afforded the same drafting advantage I got from following him. Still I tried to help where I could and be supportive. The hills were frequent, the wind was blowing, and the hills kept coming more than I think most of us expected. My fender rattled and clanged on a rough section of road. Snake was lucky he wasn't near by then. Saturday was turning into a pretty tough day. I'd pulled away between aid stations, but then it all started to unravel. My water ran out. My stomach dropped out. I wondered where the next aid station would be. I pulled off and got a bite to eat. That helped me go the next 1.5 miles to the aid station. It got better from there, though still tough.

Snake and I regrouped at the aid station, both looking a little worse for the wear after 56 miles. We headed out again and pretty much stuck together. Fewer words were spoken. More time was spent just pedaling. The plains and the hills rolled by. We neared the 72 mile split and said our farewells. Snake asked if I was tempted to join him on the century. I was, but decided that 74 miles and a Sunday ride would still be plenty for me to handle.

I got to camp, spent a couple hours organizing, resting, and battling a headache before Hawk and Eagle arrived with Dragon. They arrived together as the century loop met up with the course. They all finished together in triumph. Snake would battle his way in alone at 5:41 PM. Right on schedule with his plan of attack. Everyone was exhausted but buoyant. Group decisions seemed harder to come by. Perhaps it was Sterling, but I think it was tired bodies and minds. Eventually Hawk and I ended up in town for an ok meal at Chef Charles BBQ wagon and a Sugar Beets Days that didn't strike our fancy. Sleep could not arrive quickly enough.

Sunday, we seemed to be moving toward an earlier departure. Snake was headed home. Dragon was planning to go with him and then changed his mind. He'd made it this far and he was going to go another 66 miles. It was a gutsy decision. In final preparations, Eagle realized that Dragon's rear wheel was dragging (hence the name) on his brakes. Adjustments and other delays ensued. There were about 5 tents and 20 riders left when we made our departure.

Hawk left us as we departed Sterling. We wouldn't see his powerful pedaling again. I was in no place to tag along. My legs had no go. I pedaled along with Dragon and Eagle and they got to experience the joy of my clanging fender and its annoying ongoing clatter. As if the sound wasn't enough, things with the fender really started to fall apart. I made a couple stops to try to fix things, but ended up pulling pieces off and stashing them for later. I got back up to those two which woke me up a little. I stopped at the aid station in Merino where I was charmed. I don't know if it was the one room metal town hall or the 3/4 size mural of a town that got me, but something was cool about the little town where they make/fix/sell amusement rides for fairs. I'm also partial to Merino because a nice tech (the second actually) made another fix on my fender. This one would hold until the end of the ride. The rattle wasn't all gone, but the danger was. The rattle was reduced enough that I could again be around people without embarrassment.

I left Eagle supporting Dragon a little after Merino feeling ok. After stops it was still taking a while to get back up to speed, but climbing the slightest of hills I finally found a bit of a groove. I chased down a guy, but just as I caught him to draft he tucked in with his slower group. He then chased me down a little while later and I let him draft for a bit. That good drafting karma would come in handy later. The miles to go clicked down below 50. The sidewind was sometimes a tailwind. The road was so smooth that my fender was almost silent. None of this could prevent all the riding I'd done from making its presence felt.

My mind was saying go. I was well fueled and had plenty of fluids, but things just weren't clicking along. Then my luck changed. A group of 3 passed me. They were ahead by 100 meters or more, but most have hit a lull or had trouble getting around some traffic, because with a little burst I was able to catch up and tuck in behind them. The lead guy was carrying the load. He led the group for half an hour or more. The second guy was a chatterbox, but it wasn't always clear who he was talking to. The third was a woman with headphones who seemed content to tuck in and ride in the wake. I joined the fun without asking. There wasn't quite enough road to stagger myself in the side wind, but I was getting enough benefit and motivation to stay with them. After quite a while, they pulled away and I thanked them for the lift. Later, they'd roll by again and I'd latch on again at their invitation. I don't know how many miles ticked away behind that group, but it was a huge help.

With 17 miles to go at a Cargill (meat solutions) aid station, I rested and refueled, but I was ready to be done.  I stretched, but didn't linger. I don't remember much from a lot of those miles. My butt hurt too much to sit and my legs were too tired to stand. I remember spying some towers that I hoped were the finish in Wiggins and I remember being passed by a large man. I know it's not a race, but that racing mentality has served me well. I kept the guy in my sights and was quite pleased to pass him before the end.

Now I've come to the finish where I had some pulled pork and waited to cheer Eagle and Dragon across the finish line. I wandered around in pain. I borrowed a cow bell and cheered them in.

All those words, all those miles and what I'm really saying is that it's a special thing to tackle a challenge with others. I might just give it another go next year.