Sledding

Not exactly the aerobic workout of skiing or running, but the kids and I went sledding this afternoon to blow off some excess energy. 

Relatively uneventful, although I feel like I should have the impression of a chain link fence in the top of my head.

Photo

I just dumped all the pictures from my phone, including the crappy one I just posted on the right sidebar.  My son and I went out to the Middleton Bike Park for some pump track and dirt jump fun last summer. If I remember correctly it was either before of after a baseball tournament. After screwing around for about an hour I stopped to take some pictures of him and then he decided to try and get some of me.  The one to the left I really like for some reason, and it pretty much sums up his picture taking ability, as I was very rarely completely in the picture.  Good times.

Burgers

Last night on a "How I Met Your Mother" rerun, Marshall launched into the following speech regarding burgers:

Just a Burger? Just a burger. Robin, it’s so much more than “just a burger”. I mean…that first bite—oh what heaven that first bite is! The bun like a sesame freckled breast of an angel resting gently on the ketchup and mustard below—flavors mingling in a seductive pas-de-deux And then…a pickle…the most playful little pickle! Then a slice of tomato, a leaf of lettuce and a…a patty of ground beef so exquisite; swirling in your mouth breaking apart and combining again in a fugue of sweets and savor so delightful. This is no mere sandwich of grilled meat and toasted bread, Robin: this is God…speaking to us in food.

Well said Marshall, well said.

Maybe two years ago I decided to forgo chain restaurants and almost simultaneously began my search for Madison's best burger.  I have yet to come to a definitive conclusion, and I doubt I'll ever had a best, but Marshall sums up my quest very well, save the mustard, pickle, lettuce, and tomato, toppings that rarely if ever make it on my burgers.  I guess I like my burgers a little unconventional.

xc

Cross country skiing hurts, especially after being relatively inactive for the last couple months. The fact that I haven't been on skis in nearly two years may have also had something to do with it.

After 10 minutes I was pretty much cashed, after 15 I had made it back to the parking lot and called it a day. So 15 minutes and just over a mile, on a relatively flat trail. Sad. Worse? I'm now sore, really really sore.

But it was enjoyable, and I will continue to ski. As hard as it is to picture running 26.2 miles right now, the concept of ever being able to ski the Birkie seems completely unattainable. And skiing the Birkie is something I've wanted to do since I was a kid. And I will, some day. Soon.

Wilson

2008 Felt S22

All decked out and ready to roll the morning of my first half Ironman.

Wilson is my triathlon bike, and at least compared to Blue, is a rocket ship on wheels.  I bought Wilson in the winter of 2008 (MLK day to be exact) after deciding to take on Ironman Wisconsin in 2009.  Knowing what was in my future, the bike earned its name because I knew we'd be spending a lot of time together in the next two years, much like Tom Hanks and his volleyball, also named Wilson, in the movie Castaway.

If I had an additional digit or two in my bank account or my annual salary, I likely would have stripped Wilson down after Ironman and hung the frame up in remembrance. But I don't, and I didn't, so we continue to ride and will likely do another Ironman together in the future.  Maybe after the next one I'll have the basement finished, a spot on the wall reserved, and the means to retire a for the most part perfectly good frame.

26.2

At this point 26.2 miles seems like a long, long way.  Marathon training starts in about three weeks.  I was supposed to be using the last two months to get in shape for marathon training, but that has largely not happened.  I am in a way looking forward to it.  It's time to get the marathon monkey off my back.  After walking most of the Ironman marathon and then dropping out of last year's Madison marathon I'm beginning to feel like 26.2 is becoming my nemesis.

I intend to do a couple minor things differently training wise:

  - cross train more (ski or bike in all likelihood)
  - longer long runs (lots of 18-20 milers on the plan)
  - eat better (not sure I can do this)

Perhaps my biggest obstacle, I'm going to try and not race the clock, or G and her past marathon times.  I need to finish my first marathon and be happy about running it, regardless of a couple minutes here or there.

Blue

1996 Klein Pulse Comp
Cleaned up and prepped for the Chequamegan Fat Tire 40

Blue, aka the tractor, is/was my first mountain bike.  I bought it shortly after college and rode it quite a bit the first year or two, then it sat for a long time before being resurrected when I began training again for Ironman.  I've fallen off this bike more often than I care to admit, including several over the bar dismounts and one broken helmet.

It has remained largely stock until about a month ago when I ripped it apart for the first time and put it black together as a single speed.  I have yet to ride it in it's current configuration, but I intend to use it for two purposes.  One, it will be my office bike, something I can ride downtown for lunch or errands.  Second, it will be my bike park bike, Stoughton, Middleton, maybe Quarry Park, and Ray's in the winter if it ever opens.

Favre

I absolutely loved watching Brett Favre play football (for the Green Bay Packers).  I also absolutely hated it when he decided to unretire again and go play for the Jets and then the Vikings.  All that said, while watching his press conference last night after the game, streak ended at 297,  I realized I'm really going to miss watching him play. I still want him to retire, have for probably 5+ years now, but I'm going to miss him.

Years ago when my son was maybe 4 or 5 he was playing mini-ball soccer for the first time.  One morning he scored a goal and immediately threw his arms up over his head in celebration.  It is this youthful exuberance and love of the game that really distinguishes Favre from all others that play the game.  Right down to the end you could really see he loved to play, compete, and win. 

 
I'll miss this enthusiasm.  My son, he tripped over a goal post and fell flat on his face.  Funniest thing you ever saw, once you realized he wasn't hurt.