Friday, July 22, 2005

We've Lost Something

I see children everywhere. I speak specifically of the little kind -- the ones just learning to talk and walk. At the grocery store, the park, around my building. Not alone, of course, but do you ever notice something about them? They're way different than we are; like a different race it seems.

They're humanity in its rawest form. It can be easy for us to become ensnared in life's bullshit, to feel defeated, but I'm always filled with hope and exultance when little strangers say hi to me. Gaze at you for a second and then laugh at the top of their lungs. Or run over and hug your leg. And always smiling at you, at everyone.

It's how we humans were meant to be, you know.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

...I am an Island

Email conversation from work today.

Me: Vlad, I found 10 wires for that will be acceptable for use in our gage study! Andy

My Russian co-worker: You are Rock. Thanks. Vlad.

Sunday, July 17, 2005

18th

of 46 in my age group, according to the unofficial time sheet I saw.

The official results aren't completely updated yet, but hopefully there were more than 18 in my group who actually crossed the finish line, because my parents said there were a bunch of guys in my group who got into the middle of the lake, panicked, and were pulled out of the water.

I didn't see this happening, but I slammed into/inapropriately poked a ton of people in the murkiness of lake nokomis. Pretty gross, really, my goggles gave me visibility up to about 6 inches past my fingertips. I suppose I would've started panicking if I swallowed water like they were.

update: 18th of 55.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

Bike Crash

So for anyone who cares to know my goings-ons, I'm participating in this Triathlon.

Anyway, I'm out training on my silly-expensive-racer bike after a swim (2 days til the event). Now I'm usually a meticulously cautious person, but tonight I was fearless, and kinda reckless. But not Wreck-less. (buh - dum - pssshhhhh)

I started out my ride by pulling onto a 4 lane street, right in front of a very large 70's cadillac, subconsciously assuming that the driver was paying attention and would pull into the other lane. Nope. He was on my ass within a few seconds, but he swerved past me on his way.

I get onto the bike trail, where there are no cars, and I start shooting gaps in top gear between rollerbladers and not-as-cool-as-me-bicyclists while tucked way down on my handlebars.

Now I'm on my way home, and I see the traffic light is blinking red, meaning everyone stops like a 4-way stop. There are two cars stopped: some lady taking a left turn on the right, and a dude in an Orange VW bug on the left. Again, I make one of those split second decisions---I'm fucking going! The lady hesitates in the middle of the intersection, thinking Mr. Bug has right of way as I fly past her.
I don't think she saw me until I flew past her bumper. The dude in the bug yells, "you got balls of steel" OK. maybe that's just what I heard. What came from his mouth was probably way different. But it's my story, and that's how it will go down in history, ok?

Ok. Where did I crash?

In the middle of my ride on the trail. Thoroughly aware that there is a sharp turn leading onto railroad crossing ahead of me, I hit the brakes at the last second. My back tire locks up, whipping out to the side, so I have to ease up on it---which means I'm not slowing down anymore, and I'm now aimed away from the railroad crossing---and am careering (not careening) to the railROAD.

Somehow my reflexes tell me to jump off the bike & lay it on it's side. The front tire hits the rail, and I land in the grass -- perfect dismount, stick the landing, wave to the judges.. o fuck o fuck o fuck...nevermind. The bike is fine. What?

I think to myself and wonder where I got the reflexes to pull that off, being that I haven't owned a bike for about 7 years. Not kidding. I remember back to the farm at age 9 riding my little BMX as fast as I can, locking the brakes and stopping sideways on the lawn, and my grandpa irate because I ripped up the lawn.

Ha. Who'da known that would be handy 16 years later? I'll hafta counter his "what the hell are you doing?" next time I see him.

I don't know what was wrong with me tonight, but I think there's a good reason my everyday cautiousness is written into my genetic code.