Hello, Greenville.

"...with an enormous abstract iron sculture attached to one side and beneath it sitting in a chair tipped back against the house surrounded by company is the living image of DeWeese himself with a can of beer in his hand, which waves to us. Right out of the old photographs." - Pirsig (Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenence)

It has been well over a decade since I read Pirsig’s metaphysical voyage, but every time I visit Gartzka I feel like I am visiting my DeWeese. I am not a super-genius that had his former life erased from his memory because he was essentially too smart to handle. And I don’t arrive on a motorcycle, but my visits usually focus around a bike (human-powered). Maybe it is because Rob did study under the real-life Bob DeWeese. But, really I think its because arriving at their house gives me the same feeling that Pirsig described. The amazing countryside is only complimented by incredible artistic creations casually and unassumingly sitting around. The larger-than-life artistic abilities of Rob and Kathie almost make them seem as though they should be out of a novel, but being at their home is as simple as sitting outside sipping a can of beer while listening to the little waterfall in the small stream out-back.

A ride with Rob was long over-due and a free weekend in Ohio was met with amazing summer-in-Ohio weather. With a foreboding race in Lubbock, Texas I felt a hot ride was in order, so why not being a long ride around 1PM? But, this was no simply bike ride. We were setting out on a voyage, a trip to the legendary Maid-Rite sandwich shop of Greenville, Ohio.

The conditions were nothing less than legendary. The amazing thing about riding around Rob is that the day can be completely calm everywhere else in Ohio, but it is pretty much guaranteed to be blowing around him; “the mountains of Ohio” as he calls it. As we began rolling, we also began cooking. The countryside around Rob consists of beautiful farmland. Trees are few along the rode and with the corn just inches tall, there was no protection from wind or sun. We spun into a headwind the entire way out. You might think, “a nice breeze had to cool things down.” Well, does a convection fan cool down an oven? While I play up the conditions to miserable, I loved every moment of it. There is something about riding through an oven that is invigorating; it makes me feel alive. Also, the thought of kicking back with cool drink post ride is certain heaven in mere several hours.

After many miles of pushing through a tough headwind, taking a short break in a cemetery for shade (made me worry how serious this break was), and questioning if it was a good idea to keep pushing through this heat, we passed the a sign welcoming us to Greenville. Like the treaty that was signed here, I immediately felt peace had been achieved. I was even warmly welcomed by the locals, “Get off the rode!!” As we rode past the bank, the sign read 98degrees. We both quietly nodded our heads in a way of saying, “Yup, that sounds about right.”

Rolling up to Maid-Rite was like taking a time machine back 60 years. The little brick building was adorned with a neon 1950s style sign and the outside was decorated with probably 60 years of chewing gum covering almost every brick. Stepping inside we caught everyone’s attention like we were travelers from the future, but I quickly remembered it was likely due to us dripping with sweat and sporting full spandex attire. The atmosphere inside was dichotomous. Every patron smiled in pleasure of the food before them; all the staff appeared bored and miserable. Rob asked the manager if we could bring our bikes inside (fearing the safety of our steeds sitting along and out of eyesight. The conversation went something like:

Rob: Would if be fine if we brought our bikes in but kept them out of the way?

Manager: Ah, well...I guess...I mean, well....Err....I guess....just for a little bit.Rob: Like for as long as it takes us to eat?

Manager: Umm...ahh...well...I don’t know....I guess....well....there is not a lot of room...ok....well....

Rob: We will leave them outside.

Maid-Rite sandwiches consist of crumbled ground meat on a bun with (or without) cheese. It is simple, but tastes so good! It is the kind of thing that you could eat 5 of them and feel great. The best part is the meat is cooked in a big vat with a worker just chopping it up constantly with a big spatula. It is not fine cuisine, but its the kind of thing that makes me love rural Ohio.

Despite the warm welcome into Greenville and the overly helpful and accommodating manager, everyone we met at Maid-Rite was as warm as the weather we just rode through. One gentleman was curious of our route and ended up drawing a map of a suggested route home for us. Several more obvious non-cyclists were really intrigued by our bikes and all the technology. It seemed like they had never seen a bike.

We rolled out of Greenville with full bellies, full bottles, and a full real Greenville experience. The ride home was uneventful, but a beautiful cruise through Ohio. We opened up our sails and let the wind blow us home (we coasted at 23mph, does that tell you how windy it was?).

The day ended with cold beers with Rob and Kathie outside listening to the little waterfall in the small stream out-back. That is my zen and the art of bicycle maintenance and definitely a storybook finish to a day.

Wednesday in the life of a norml man

Self-humiliation or self-indulgence? I would say just a normal day. The movie speaks for itself. Expect more to come (incredibly fun to make).

Enjoy.

Wednesday in the life of a norml man from mike c on Vimeo.

NOTE: Please let me know if the audio gets stripped. That is up to the music copyright gods.

Disappearence and Large Quantities of Food

Well, I have been MIA for several months now. I wish it was because I was too busy with ridiculous adventures. Really, life has been relatively adventure-less, hence the lack of postings. I have been spending all my time working and working out. Nobody really like to read about the daily grind. I have also come down with a bad case of tired-of-driving-itus, which has been very detrimental to winter adventure options.

This winter has hosted a trip back out to San Fran and several days in Miami. SF is best summed up by imagining large quantities of food. I enjoyed watching JE and friends get destroyed by 2lbs of noodles and 2lbs of meat at the Pho Challenge. I then got my upper body workout by helping make homemade pasta. While I lack any pictures from Miami, I will tell you this normal man definitely does not belong in South Beach.

Well, there is not much more to say. BUT, as a little teaser, I will tell you I have a little project in the works that should be a real treat. It will be posted as soon as it is completed. I am pretty excited about this one....

Fall pt 2: Tytoona Cave

Luke needed help teaching his lab this week and I need help getting outside. So, on an amazing central PA fall day we headed out to Sinking Valley, PA for Tytoona Cave (I wonder why they named a cave located between Tyrone and Altoona "Tytoona"? lame). Several observations from within the cave: undergraduates are not the sharpest tools in the box.

The amazing weather (blue skies are kind of rare around here) also gave me a chance to play with some new filters on my camera. I will definitely be extending my bike loop to include Sinking Valley (I love that name!). So, here are a couple pics from the day. Enjoy! (I know I did).

The barns full of Amish buggies and the Amish buggy passing me on the street makes me think an Amish family lives around here. That's right, I'm a scientists.
Arch Spring: it is hard to tell, but this is actually an arch and there is a huge sinkhole behind it, where there is an underwater entrance to Tytoona Cave

FALL!!!!

First mtn bike ride at Raystown = awesome!

Great pumpkin carving

Half of an Ironman, still just a normal man

Anybody that knows me knows that I may have a tendency to fall into routines rather easily. I am not exactly sure what makes people think this, perhaps it is because in the past I have periodically spent many months consuming the same meal for every breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner. Perhaps it is because I tend to have a schedule that consumes nearly every hour of the day, which I repeat week after week. Basically, all pretty normal and standard procedure. BUT, this past weekend I decided it might be a good weekend to change things up and do something a little different.

So, on Saturday I figured why not wake up at 4:15 AM, sit in a beachside bathroom for 3 hours, go for a swim, bike, then run all morning, then spend the rest of the day curled in a ball feeling like WWIII was in full swing inside my abdomen. Going to see a movie was the alternate plan for the day.

Ok, maybe this was not completely impulsive and there was a little premeditation to the plan, and my swim-bike-run may have actually been called the Steelhead 70.3 Half Ironman in Benton Harbor, Michigan (the plan sounded a lot more hip without all the official names, did it not?) I also may have been training for this day (I know, I sound a lot more boring now).

The day did start at 4:15. When my mom dropped me off at 5:15 (kind of like getting dropped off at school by your mom, but I got to bring my bike to this school) a steady sprinkle-rain began. For those unfamiliar with triathlon, you begin with a swim, then head into a “transition area” where you have your bike, bike equipment, and running equipment stored. After the swim you hop onto your bike, then head back into the transition area a second time to drop off your bike and get your running shoes on and head out for the final leg of the race, the run. The swim start was going off in “waves,” simply meaning groups of people were started instead of one single mass start of everyone. The pros started first at 7AM and I was “fortunate” enough to be in the second to last wave, starting at 8:42AM! Unfortunately, the transition area closed at 6:30, so I could not just roll over to the race at 8:30 and say, “Let’s do this!” I had to get there in the morning darkness, set up my bike and equipment then hang out for several hours. While that sounds awesome, what is not awesome is when it is raining all morning. But what is surprisingly awesome is hanging out in the bathroom for about 2.5 hours. Perhaps the whole “hanging out in the bathroom” deterred people from doing it, but we had a lot of room in there. I should note, there was a changing room half to the bathroom, so I was not giving people high fives as they left the john.

Around 8AM I headed down the beach for the start. This race hosted a point-to-point swim, which means you walk about 2k (1.2miles to be exact) down the beach, then swim in a straight shot back to the transition area. Not only was the water (Lake Michigan) incredibly clean and a comfortable 76degrees, but they also have you swim “down current” (a lake surprisingly has a noticeable current, I did not know that). This made for an awesomely fast swim, a great artificial confidence boost. The swim went well, I fortunately avoided the dreaded heel-to-my-face move (typically another person’s heel to your face. I guess it could be both your heel and your face, but you might be experiencing bigger problems in that situation). I hopped out of the water and headed up to the transition area with an awesome crowd enthusiastically cheering on the guy behind me (I think I might name my son "John Tom Mike Jim Tim Bob Guillermo," that way he has a pretty good chance of always being cheered by everyone in nearly every situation). Then, I was onto the bike.

There is not much exciting to say about the bike, except all the rules that I was nervous about accidentally breaking (drafting, blocking, passing too slowly, passing on the wrong side, not dropping back after being passed, etc) were pretty much immediately broken by everyone else. The greatest challenge on the bike was having to pee for about 2 of the 2.5 hours. Surprisingly, peeing while riding the bike is incredibly difficult. The last 20 miles I decided it was time to “take care of business” before I started my run. It was not a “stage-fright” thing, I was perfectly comfortable with the idea, I mean it was essentially water anyway. But all I was able to do was make myself feel like I had to go even worse. I did learn that I might achieve success while coasting, but the downhills were all too short and again all I did was get really close to success, then it was time to pedal again. Honestly, I respect professional cyclists so much now, the skill of peeing on the bike is a masterful technique. But, I digress…

Finally, I hopped off the bike, full bladder and all, and started the run. First 3-4 miles I was feeling great and amazed how well I was moving. Finally, I decided it was time to stop thinking about peeing and made a quick stop in the porta-potty, and was off again. The second half of the run I began to fade fast. My stomach began cramping. I was familiar with this treacherous dance. On one hand it was a ticking bomb, once stomach cramping began it would only get worse. If I pushed too hard, it would shut me down. I guess you might say, this was damage control mode. Despite a poor second half, I trucked across the finish line with a decent morning behind me. I even managed to show off a couple nice moves on the run: a spin move to avoid a volunteer, a spin move to grab a cup by a distracted volunteer, and a little shimmy-sidestep to avoid another volunteer.

Crossing the finish line I felt completely spent, so I knew it was a good effort. After chatting with a fellow competitor for a bit (I am so good at talking to strangers) I headed off to find my mom who was my awesome support crew for the weekend. As I got close to her, a reminder quickly hit me. It was my stomach saying, “Remember me? Now it is my turn.” From there, the next 10 hours quickly degraded into me being in terrible pain. I did the best I could to cope. While getting some post race food for my support crew (mom), I managed to avoid throwing up all over the spread of food. I could not pass up the opportunity to hit up Bell’s Brewery with the weak hope of feeling better. Unfortunately, a Two-Heated on home tap was beyond reality, I did manage to put on a happy face for a picture before returning to my curled up state. I have to say my mom was awesome for being my support crew and putting up with me being a big baby after the race…ok I was probably also a big baby the days leading up to the race as well. While I am certain it was not very exciting for her, the highlight of my weekend truly was having my own support crew cheering me on and sharing the experience with her!!

At the end of the day, I have to admit that I thought I would feel different after the race. Granted I did not expect to be in permanent fetal position post race, but I mean this metaphysically. I honestly thought it would change the way I looked at things, like there was some wisdom hidden within those 70.3 miles. Accordingly, there was a little bit of, “Is that all there is?” when I finished. Having chewed on it for a couple days, it seems foolish to think one mornings experience would make me feel different about the world. But, comparing myself today to myself before I started training for the event, that has been transformative. I think it is on par with waking up the next day after your wedding, looking at your new wife/husband and saying “Is that all there is to being married?” It is a ridiculous thing to say and think. So, I guess I would say Saturday was my graduation or my celebration for my transformative experience. I have learned a great deal about myself at those 8AM swim practices when I think drowning would definitely feel better than another set, or those early morning mile repeat sessions when I achieve dry-heaving on my second out of four repeats, or on my long runs when it is just me and my consciousness (yes, they are two different people, how else could I have all those conversations?) for several hours, and on the long rides where I have made friends, or, or, or, or all those other times. Becoming half of an ironman (or tinman as my bro calls it) really is about the process. It is funny, looking back on the weekend now, I wish I took more pictures of me with my mom and with inspiring people I met. Makes you realize how what you think is important can obscure what feels important later…WWIII in your abdomen also tends to obscure things. So it goes…

(On a side note: the half Ironman distances are: 1.2mile swim, 56mile bike, 13.1mile run, and a whole lot of fun!!)

(Pictures top to bottom: (1) Pre-race day swim photo shoot, drink it up ladies! (2) 5:30AM, bike racked, rain about to start (3) About to head out for the run, there's no smiling in triathlon! (4) Meters away from the finish, is that a smile or a grimace? (5) Bell's Brewery, is that a smile or a grimace?)

Tri'ing to stay positive

I had set the alarm for 5AM, but shortly after 4AM I awoke to a dog panting in my face. It was my sister’s dog and the panting in your face was his way of saying he wanted let outside. Today was my first triathlon race of the season; in fact, it was my first tri in nearly two years due to my summer in Alaska last summer. Determined to get my final hour of sleep I rolled over and wished the dog away. By 4:45AM, after being reminded by the dog every ten minutes, I gave up, grumbling out of bed.

Unlike my mom’s dog’s, my sister’s dogs must be leashed outside or they will run. As I tied up her second dog, I thought to myself, “Why is Nala (my sister’s golden retriever) staring at me? Usually she runs into the yard. And I’m surprised how quickly Maggie (my mom’s golden retriever) ran into the yard, usually she just stares at me…” With that I realized that Maggie was staring at me, while Nala took off into the neighborhood. I was presented with the difficult decision of: (1) try to chase down the dog, or (2) cut the lost dog as a loss and get ready for my race. Considering how mad my sister would be, it seemed like net net chasing the dog would require less energy. Stepping into the yard with only shorts on, the opened up and began a torrential downpour. There I was, standing in the pitch black, being drowned, and no clue how I would begin to find this dog. After aimlessly wondering around the neighborhood I realized I should get my mom to join in on this search. As I returned to the house, that dumb dog was sitting at the door waiting to be let in! First challenge of the day: Completed.

After a 1.5 hr drive I arrived at the race with 45 min to the start of the race. I had taken my mom’s car, enabling me to put my bike inside in case the rain started again (which conveniently stopped after the dog was found). Walking up to the check-in, it dawned on me I had intentionally placed my helmet in my car so as not to forget it. I did not think about forgetting to take MY car. There I was, 1.5 hrs from my helmet and 45 min to the start of the race. Selfishly I figured I might as well try and get a family member to drive it out here, otherwise I could just do the swim and call it a day. My dad agreed (highlighting the awesomeness of my family).

The helmet would not arrive until 20 min after I was out of the water, but at least I could participate in all 3 events. It was a bummer not to be able to compete. With 20 minutes to the race time the sky opened up with torrential rain, thunder and lightening. Most importantly, the race was delayed. Amazingly, the helmet might arrive in time! Now was a race against the clock. My phone has this great ability of no longer working when the moisture around it got too high (this could even be a sweaty pocket on a hot day). I knew my phone wouldn’t last long. The only spot out of the next flood I could find was a port-a-pot. I stood in the bathroom trying to relay as much info to my dad as I could. I also finished preparing for the race in the small space.

As quickly as it came, the race stopped. As I lined up for the start I realized I wasn’t very nervous. All the chaos of the morning had completely pre-occupied me. When I got out of the water my dad was standing there with helmet in hand.

Other than everything being completely drenched, a very choppy swim, windy bike/run, and getting burned because in the downpour I didn’t even consider sunscreen, it turned out to be a fantastic day. Despite these challenges during the race, but spirits were high because I was just glad to participate. I find it amazing that while any one of those setbacks (the dog, the dog, the helmet, the rain, the wind, the sun, my bleeding feet) could have justifiably called it a day, but it turned out pretty awesome.

I don’t have any pics from the race, but here are some from last weekend’s Saturday swim and run (not pictured: the giant milkshake after the run!!)