May I present the class of 2018? |
Before I ride, I usually like to start the morning downing some espresso, maybe a bagel or bowl of cheesy grits with eggs over easy mixed-in, then off to the trails. It's the summer break, ritualistic aspect of having so much time in front of you. You want to be intentional, purposeful, but not too regimented. I guess that's why I like to train solo. When you have to rely on yourself getting something done, you really have nobody to blame but yourself should the outcome not be in your standards.
A response to one of my quizzes |
Training solo allows me to daydream, adjust my intensity, power down, rinse and repeat. It also allows me to belch and/or fart whenever I feel like it and not worry about being polite or my lack of self-control. I love the fact I don't have to wait for anybody or anybody to wait for my slow ass for that matter. Signed up to do the Firecracker 50 this year after a multi-year hiatus. Got second place at my inaugural, 2018 XC marathon event--the Ridgeline Rampage. My teammate Michael put a 17 minute smackdown/gap on me for the win. Damn he flew! Yeah boys: a 1-2 finish for Raceco.org. Broke in my dually at the race. It's like racing on my couch. A couch that has precise steering albeit the SRAM brakes kinda suck (aint no XT like on my hardtail) and my lower back absolutely loved it!
One of my BFF's is also my colleague-one-third of the homey trinity, so on our last day (where we had a luncheon at a classy country club where I had seconds!) we went on a ride in our neighborhood (yes, we're lucky to have 30+ miles of singletrack in our 'hood). We. Went. Chill. It was also 90º F that day too. So chill we stopped at a Starbucks where we talked introspectively about the conclusion of another teaching year whilst sipping on a lemonade and matcha, green tea latté. 'Twas a year full of erstwhile lazy, drama filled, inspiring, intelligent, almost adult mature, funny (and fun!), quasi-sad classroom students that can (and more than likely will) fortuitously Jekyll and Hyde you, throwing the vibe off that you wanted to instill at the beginning of class for a loop. We talked about the incredulity of the nation wide disease of cowards shooting their fellow classmates and asking ourselves will it happen to our beloved high school? We talked about our mutual student-Nick- who is so damn lazy but an incredibly smart and likable fellow that when he does work he's proud of his accomplishment(s) and he knows how proud we are of him. Actually, for a bunch of dudes, we likes to gossip about our science department colleagues and our other nutty HS departments (how sexist was that statement?).
Here she is, riding my buddy's back on a hike in NM. |
Speaking of being proud, our oldest daughter, Maricel, graduated too. Going to Oberlin College. Ever seen the most excellent movie Father of the Bride? Sometimes, when she's super animated talking to Karen or to me, or both, I get an out-of-body experience and I undergo a cinematographic, close-up effect of her face panning into my view and I see this 18 year-old adult talking but what I really see is this (picture on the right).
Here she is now; two babycakes |
Here's two of my all-time favorite girls juxtapositioned by fate and general badassity. Pretty proud moment for all of us. Her graduation seating arrangements absolutely sucked! Damn y'all Golden High School logistics coordinator from hell!
Real deal, y'all. |
Two days later, I told my colleague--who wanted to do the same lab--to make sure it's combusted in the fume hood. Apparently her fume hood sucked (or it didn't suck enough) and voilà, déjà vu all over again. At least on the days the alarms went off, it was on a beautiful, blue-bird skies, Colorado afternoon. On the second time, people asked if I did it again. Ha.
When we were doing locker cleanout, we teachers have to hangout in the hallways to ensure no fights break out and that the kids are actually throwing their junk away in the provided trash bins. When teachers leave their desks, students like to sit in their teacher's chair(s). I guess it's like sitting in the captain's chair. I tell them not to do that. One nice enough, mischievous kid, sensing this opportunity--who is smart, full of drama, dresses like a gansta (kinda not like me), writes using bad grammar (kind a lot like me) ran up and sat in my chair when I was out in the hallway, gesticulating like he was the teacher. When he sat up there, I yelled back into my classroom, "Who said you can sit in Daddy's chair?" All the kids said, "oooooh!" and some laughed and he felt embarrassed (in a non-threatening, non-persecutorial sort-of-way) and he sat back down at his own desk with a smile on his flushed face. It's all about the rapport I guess.
Well Summer, hello! Let's get some: riding, tom-foolery, shenanigenry et al started!
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