Just an update
Let's see, its been about a week or more since I posted last, so I thought I'd do a quick update.
I've still been focused more on my family lately. After putting our best pet ever, I took Dad in for a little diagnostic proceedure. He got his throat scoped out, (without anethesia!!) and the doctor took a look around. He found a small obstruction in his esopagus, and alot of damage from acid reflux. So we're going back in for some more surgery in a couple of weeks.
The weekly world championships was a mediocre afair for me. For a little background, the WWC is a gathering of a bunch of cyclists (50-90) at a local 3 mile loop. Every level from scrubs to professional cyclists show up, so it can be really fast, and sometimes sketchy with the various skill levels. Throw in cars, joggers, rollerbladers, and dog walkers, it adds to the crazyness. We usually do about 10 laps. Ave. about 25 mph, and cover about 25 miles. These are averages. In the head wind section we go around 18-20 mph, and then in the tailwind section we usually hammer it at 30+. Its the best quality workout I get all week. Anyway, going into last weeks WWC I knew the motivation wasn't there. I hadn't been riding consistantly for the previous two weeks, so I knew the fitness had been dropping. I get to the course and do two laps of warm up, and I notice the chain needs lube, and the tires are a little low. During the race I did OK. I did one or two pulls at the front at a resonable pace, but largely stayed mid pack. I seemed to get stuck behind the same sketchy Mexican. Man, he always let his front wheel overlap the rear wheel of the guys in front of him...a sure recipe for disaster! He drove me nuts. At two laps to go, the pace in the tailwind section was 30+ and it was all I could do to hold the draft. Some guy is coming back from the front, totally spent, and I can't get around him, and I loose the wheel in front of me. Draft gone, game over. For once I'm ok with being dropped. I just knew the legs weren't there.
Back to the family. It only took Dad two days before he starts looking for another dog. He even goes so far as start the adoption process for one. I'm floored to say the least. I get a lecture from my brother about how I can't let Dad get another dog. (Didn't appreciate that!) I'm able to successfully stop that adoption by telling Dad we need to wait until after the surgery. That lasted until Friday. I get a message saying that he's adopted a new Dog. Great. So we now have a new 5 year old male yellow lab. He is a good dog, but my brother and I are really frustrated. Dad says the depression was too much. I understand that, but how about a dog in the 10 lbs range, not the 70 lbs.
Servitus. What can I say. Awesome group of peeps to hang out with. The Ladies of the group were looking lovely to say the least. Holy krap that hook suspension was lame. I'm a really patient guy, but two hours!?!?! Give me a friken break. I'd just worked a 12 hr shift from 2am to 2pm and I'd been looking forward to some play, but I just lost it. Motivation gone. If I was shooshed one more time....The other bummer was there looked to be a good collection of Dommes there. One I played with last time at DG, but I didn't get the chance to even really talk to her.
More family. I got one of those phone calls I dread. 12:30 am, can't sleep cuz the condo's 80+ degrees, phone rings. Mom this time. Dad's had a cold, and couldn't breathe. His in an ambulance heading to the ER. I get Mom, head to the ER. 3am, and Dad has pneumonia. I've spent nearly the past 48 hrs taking care of my parents. Dad's getting better, but I was really worried there for awhile. He'd get these hacking attacks that just sounded like he was dying. He's getting better. The antibiotics are working, and he's getting some sleep finally. A relief for everyone. But everything my brother and I told him nearly came true. Too sick to take care of himself, Mom, the new dog, and the house, so who does it fall on. Me. Trust me, I glad I'm here to do it, but I can't help but be frustrated. I guess I'm reacting to all of the worry and stress. So just a little whiney rant. Sorry guys. Hard to stay mad when you have a yellow lab staring at you with puppy dog eyes and a wagging tail.
Cheers
I've still been focused more on my family lately. After putting our best pet ever, I took Dad in for a little diagnostic proceedure. He got his throat scoped out, (without anethesia!!) and the doctor took a look around. He found a small obstruction in his esopagus, and alot of damage from acid reflux. So we're going back in for some more surgery in a couple of weeks.
The weekly world championships was a mediocre afair for me. For a little background, the WWC is a gathering of a bunch of cyclists (50-90) at a local 3 mile loop. Every level from scrubs to professional cyclists show up, so it can be really fast, and sometimes sketchy with the various skill levels. Throw in cars, joggers, rollerbladers, and dog walkers, it adds to the crazyness. We usually do about 10 laps. Ave. about 25 mph, and cover about 25 miles. These are averages. In the head wind section we go around 18-20 mph, and then in the tailwind section we usually hammer it at 30+. Its the best quality workout I get all week. Anyway, going into last weeks WWC I knew the motivation wasn't there. I hadn't been riding consistantly for the previous two weeks, so I knew the fitness had been dropping. I get to the course and do two laps of warm up, and I notice the chain needs lube, and the tires are a little low. During the race I did OK. I did one or two pulls at the front at a resonable pace, but largely stayed mid pack. I seemed to get stuck behind the same sketchy Mexican. Man, he always let his front wheel overlap the rear wheel of the guys in front of him...a sure recipe for disaster! He drove me nuts. At two laps to go, the pace in the tailwind section was 30+ and it was all I could do to hold the draft. Some guy is coming back from the front, totally spent, and I can't get around him, and I loose the wheel in front of me. Draft gone, game over. For once I'm ok with being dropped. I just knew the legs weren't there.
Back to the family. It only took Dad two days before he starts looking for another dog. He even goes so far as start the adoption process for one. I'm floored to say the least. I get a lecture from my brother about how I can't let Dad get another dog. (Didn't appreciate that!) I'm able to successfully stop that adoption by telling Dad we need to wait until after the surgery. That lasted until Friday. I get a message saying that he's adopted a new Dog. Great. So we now have a new 5 year old male yellow lab. He is a good dog, but my brother and I are really frustrated. Dad says the depression was too much. I understand that, but how about a dog in the 10 lbs range, not the 70 lbs.
Servitus. What can I say. Awesome group of peeps to hang out with. The Ladies of the group were looking lovely to say the least. Holy krap that hook suspension was lame. I'm a really patient guy, but two hours!?!?! Give me a friken break. I'd just worked a 12 hr shift from 2am to 2pm and I'd been looking forward to some play, but I just lost it. Motivation gone. If I was shooshed one more time....The other bummer was there looked to be a good collection of Dommes there. One I played with last time at DG, but I didn't get the chance to even really talk to her.
More family. I got one of those phone calls I dread. 12:30 am, can't sleep cuz the condo's 80+ degrees, phone rings. Mom this time. Dad's had a cold, and couldn't breathe. His in an ambulance heading to the ER. I get Mom, head to the ER. 3am, and Dad has pneumonia. I've spent nearly the past 48 hrs taking care of my parents. Dad's getting better, but I was really worried there for awhile. He'd get these hacking attacks that just sounded like he was dying. He's getting better. The antibiotics are working, and he's getting some sleep finally. A relief for everyone. But everything my brother and I told him nearly came true. Too sick to take care of himself, Mom, the new dog, and the house, so who does it fall on. Me. Trust me, I glad I'm here to do it, but I can't help but be frustrated. I guess I'm reacting to all of the worry and stress. So just a little whiney rant. Sorry guys. Hard to stay mad when you have a yellow lab staring at you with puppy dog eyes and a wagging tail.
Cheers