First, pardon the long absence. This site got twisted and sent into the Internet void, and it took extreme digging to figure out that deep in its origins one of the primary emails controlling the domains, and thus the existence of this site, was an old one. After months of reaching out to WordPress Help and punching through multiple portals that were asking for my identification, by luck I finally saw this tiny little email field at the bottom of the page. Then I entered the new information, sent it in for approval because I’d long since paid for the WordPress subscription and Domain, and finally, the site popped back into life.

So those were my “times of trial.” I felt terrible about not writing here, but I’d go after it a bit, get onto something else, like completing the last two books I’ve written or published, and weeks would go by.

But I’m back. Perhaps you’ve missed me. Perhaps not. I figure I’m kind of like one of those cyclists who shows up at your side in a group ride after you haven’t seen them in months, says hello, and you go, “Where the fuck have YOU been?”

Or, I’m like that runner at the club who’s always at the back of the pack, so you don’t ever notice or talk to them because you’re in the A Group and never run slow enough to trot along with the B People, but then you get a nagging calf injury and have to mince along with the slow folks and you look over and see me running along with my head down in thought.

You’re like, “Hey, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, not writing, I mean racing, much,” I admit with a guilty spit into the roadside chicory.

A half mile goes by and nothing else is said. Your calf loosens up and you feel good enough to rejoin the A Group so you go, “Bye, see you at the finish.”

But you never do. For some reason I never show up.

That’s what it’s been like not having this blog up and running. I’ve been contacted by WordPress Wizards who want to help me with its visibility, and I’m planning on doing that. If I’m going to reach all the 9.7B people predicted to live on Earth by 2050, I gotta get hopping on subscribers. Of course, if I live that long, I’ll be 94 by then, the same age as my father when he passed away in 2015. I’m not counting on anything.

Keeping at it

Which is why I still like to get on the bike and go as hard as I can, as long as I can. It’s a microcosm of existence, when you think about it. You’re attached at the pedal, clipped in for better or worse. That an almost direct allegory for getting along in the face of all the shit we have to face just to get through life.

The wind was blowing from the East. My wife had already completed her time trial that day as she dialed in her prep for her Ironman Chattanooga this coming weekend. I was #64 out of 80 starters and couldn’t clip in the first ten seconds, which reminded me of the Crits I’d ridden years ago.

Once I got rolling it felt good to find a pedaling groove and hold 20+ miles an hour with the only dips below that on quick little hills. 3.5 miles out and back. I rode at a pace of 21.8 mph for 7.5 miles. The fastest I’ve ever averaged in a criterium road bike race was 25.8 for forty minutes about 2009. The fastest I’ve averaged in a triathlon Olympic race is 19.1 for 24 miles about four years ago. I managed 18.5 over 56 miles on a hilly Madison Half Ironman course two years ago. So I haven’t gotten terribly slower or worse. I do 40K time trials on my own in summer and have gotten down to 1:16 if I recall correctly.

My speed is nothing to brag about, but I sure had fun racing that time tril. My recent time of 20:42 placed me 7th in the 65-69 age group, which strangely had more participants than any other competing that day. And even if I hadn’t dawdled getting clipped in, I would not have beaten any of my fellow cyclists.

It was part of the MATTS Time Trial Series, so I’m supposing some of these guys were more experienced than I. I can’t say that I felt able to go a whole lot faster than I did. Toward the last half mile my legs were feeling it. I was never out of breath, so perhaps I didn’t try hard enough. Well, that’s a lesson for next time.

I’m grateful to be hitting it as hard as I can in these hard times. The world is a strange place. Seems like the only thing that makes sense sometimes is to get on your bike and ride, run a few miles or swim with bubbles gracing your face. Reality.

I did something I’ve wanted