My employer was purchased by Google yesterday. Well, the news hit yesterday, the purchase will be complete sometime this quarter. I still haven't managed to collect 90% of my cash from my last company who was bought out, and now this on top of it. Looks like I might be able to buy a place to live next year. My own garage for all the damned bikes I have and hopefully a teeny yard for the dog. I'm not greedy. Just something that is a tax write-off and so I quit throwing my rent money down the proverbial toilet each month.
Part of me is thrilled as I'll be working for Google, one of the best employers in the nation (I was already working for the BEST, unknown employer in the nation, but Postini doesn't really count on that grand of a scale, because we're such a small fish)! Part of me is scared of the unknown, but another part of me is excited, as I'll have plenty of room to grow professionally. I hope I'm good enough! I love my current commute, so my hope is that they don't move us in the next year, so I can keep my wimpy 2.5 mile and no freeway-BS commute. Of course, moving us to Mountain View would actually give me a decent bike commute and it would be worth my while. But that's down the road anyway, right?
Back to watching Le Tour and drinking wine!
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Cyclists, Woodside residents and the Sheriff
Who'd of thunk that a large, fast-moving group of cyclists could create a roadblock for more than a few moments?
The residents of Woodside, of course.
This is my 4th year of racing. For FOUR summers, I've been wanting to go on the Wednesday night Valley Ride. But I've been afraid. Afraid of being dropped. Afraid of the rumors of sketchy riders. Afraid of looking like the dreaded "Fred", well, maybe "Frederique". My coach finally talked me into it. "Just try it" he said. So I decided to just try part of it. "Be sure to get a good warmup in". So I did a couple of 10 minute efforts to get some intensity into my legs. I knew I'd have to blend in from nearly a dead halt and append onto the back of the pack, and that was going to be tough, since I'd planned to join in from a slight downgrade section.
I went about my business warming up, and then waiting. Waiting whilst rolling around. Finally, the group arrived, and yup. Had to join from a dead halt. The entire group passed and then I sprinted to latch onto the back of the pack. And they just sucked me along. I moved up and whoosh, whoosh. It was fun! Over a slight crest and then back down again. Whooshing along. Didn't seem sketchy to me, at least not last night. Over another crest and then damn. I had to use my biggest gear so I wasn't spinning my brains out. I don't think I've used that gear in a very, very, very long time. And then we turned, it were going down a long, section of gradual rollers. On an uphill roller, I eventually blew up and popped off of the group. I worked pretty hard to catch up to a teammate, and then we rolled along to the re-group point. I figured the group could just pull me along, back to where I'd parked, and I'd be good to go. So I waited. Once we pulled back onto the road (Kings Mountain Road) and started heading towards 84 and Roberts Market, there sat the Sheriff. I heard voices saying, "Single file! Everyone ride single file." which I tried to do. But others were passing. Then we spread out again as we approached the stop sign at 84 and Kings. The first group got through the left and the rest of us had to wait for traffic. Finally a nice motorist stopped and motioned us to go through. This is where it gets weird. There wasn't much room between the motorist and the head of the group of cyclists, but somehow, Mr. Man (the sheriff) drove through it. I felt like he'd endangered us, but I already know that as a cyclist, my opinion does not matter. Not in Woodside. He cut us off and then parked sideways, in the middle of 84, just to get out and lecture us and make a huge showing for the motorists. I'm thinking to myself, "Wow, what a jerk". He proceeds to lecture us about taking up the entire lane and riding 5 abreast when there's no bike lane, and how he'd gotten FIVE calls already about us. This is where I have to call bullsh*t.
I know this group, and I know the route. The group is traveling at the speed limit for cars. This is why it's so damned hard to stay on the ride. It's FAST, and if motorists are angry because they can't get around, then that tells me they are speeding. And due to the speed, the entire group is present in Woodside for maybe 25 minutes. Tops. I caught the group out in Portola Valley at 6:25. I was back at my car in Woodside at 7. I got popped at 6:35, in Woodside, and part of the route is going up the backside of Kings Mountain to Huddart Park. So for those 5 or 10 minutes, the group is not in the vicinity of any vehicular traffic. Five calls my arse. The whole lot of us would take things more seriously if the door swung both ways. Where was Mr. Man 45 minutes prior when a dark gray Mitsubishi Eclipse passed me within about 2 inches out on 84. I was over to the right as far as possible and there was no oncoming traffic. The driver was just being an a-hole. Where was Mr. Man last week, when I was again, as far to the right as possible, and one of his beloved Woodside residents blew past me in a HUGE, white pick-up truck, with a BBQ strapped in the back of it, on Kings mountain road, missed me by an inch or so (again, no oncoming traffic) and then turned into his driveway? Where was Mr. Man 4 years ago, when some stupid woman ran me off the Kings Mountain descent and I crashed into the ditch, breaking my helmet and denting the sh*t out of some residents fence (said fence kept me from falling down the ravine). 8 out of 10 times I ride in Woodside, I nearly get pegged by some jerk-off motorist, trying to MAKE A POINT. As cyclists, we don't really bother filing complaints, because we know nothing will be done.
But if you're a Woodside resident and mad because some horde of cyclists makes you sit behind them for about 1 minute or so, watch out. The Sheriff's got your back.
Me thinks I'll start spending my Wednesday evenings at the track, where there are no Sheriffs or rich, angry residents with nothing better to do than bug the cops and prevent them from tracking down the speeders, stop-sign runners, drug dealers, meth labs, pimps, prostitutes and bank robbers plaguing the community at large.
The residents of Woodside, of course.
This is my 4th year of racing. For FOUR summers, I've been wanting to go on the Wednesday night Valley Ride. But I've been afraid. Afraid of being dropped. Afraid of the rumors of sketchy riders. Afraid of looking like the dreaded "Fred", well, maybe "Frederique". My coach finally talked me into it. "Just try it" he said. So I decided to just try part of it. "Be sure to get a good warmup in". So I did a couple of 10 minute efforts to get some intensity into my legs. I knew I'd have to blend in from nearly a dead halt and append onto the back of the pack, and that was going to be tough, since I'd planned to join in from a slight downgrade section.
I went about my business warming up, and then waiting. Waiting whilst rolling around. Finally, the group arrived, and yup. Had to join from a dead halt. The entire group passed and then I sprinted to latch onto the back of the pack. And they just sucked me along. I moved up and whoosh, whoosh. It was fun! Over a slight crest and then back down again. Whooshing along. Didn't seem sketchy to me, at least not last night. Over another crest and then damn. I had to use my biggest gear so I wasn't spinning my brains out. I don't think I've used that gear in a very, very, very long time. And then we turned, it were going down a long, section of gradual rollers. On an uphill roller, I eventually blew up and popped off of the group. I worked pretty hard to catch up to a teammate, and then we rolled along to the re-group point. I figured the group could just pull me along, back to where I'd parked, and I'd be good to go. So I waited. Once we pulled back onto the road (Kings Mountain Road) and started heading towards 84 and Roberts Market, there sat the Sheriff. I heard voices saying, "Single file! Everyone ride single file." which I tried to do. But others were passing. Then we spread out again as we approached the stop sign at 84 and Kings. The first group got through the left and the rest of us had to wait for traffic. Finally a nice motorist stopped and motioned us to go through. This is where it gets weird. There wasn't much room between the motorist and the head of the group of cyclists, but somehow, Mr. Man (the sheriff) drove through it. I felt like he'd endangered us, but I already know that as a cyclist, my opinion does not matter. Not in Woodside. He cut us off and then parked sideways, in the middle of 84, just to get out and lecture us and make a huge showing for the motorists. I'm thinking to myself, "Wow, what a jerk". He proceeds to lecture us about taking up the entire lane and riding 5 abreast when there's no bike lane, and how he'd gotten FIVE calls already about us. This is where I have to call bullsh*t.
I know this group, and I know the route. The group is traveling at the speed limit for cars. This is why it's so damned hard to stay on the ride. It's FAST, and if motorists are angry because they can't get around, then that tells me they are speeding. And due to the speed, the entire group is present in Woodside for maybe 25 minutes. Tops. I caught the group out in Portola Valley at 6:25. I was back at my car in Woodside at 7. I got popped at 6:35, in Woodside, and part of the route is going up the backside of Kings Mountain to Huddart Park. So for those 5 or 10 minutes, the group is not in the vicinity of any vehicular traffic. Five calls my arse. The whole lot of us would take things more seriously if the door swung both ways. Where was Mr. Man 45 minutes prior when a dark gray Mitsubishi Eclipse passed me within about 2 inches out on 84. I was over to the right as far as possible and there was no oncoming traffic. The driver was just being an a-hole. Where was Mr. Man last week, when I was again, as far to the right as possible, and one of his beloved Woodside residents blew past me in a HUGE, white pick-up truck, with a BBQ strapped in the back of it, on Kings mountain road, missed me by an inch or so (again, no oncoming traffic) and then turned into his driveway? Where was Mr. Man 4 years ago, when some stupid woman ran me off the Kings Mountain descent and I crashed into the ditch, breaking my helmet and denting the sh*t out of some residents fence (said fence kept me from falling down the ravine). 8 out of 10 times I ride in Woodside, I nearly get pegged by some jerk-off motorist, trying to MAKE A POINT. As cyclists, we don't really bother filing complaints, because we know nothing will be done.
But if you're a Woodside resident and mad because some horde of cyclists makes you sit behind them for about 1 minute or so, watch out. The Sheriff's got your back.
Me thinks I'll start spending my Wednesday evenings at the track, where there are no Sheriffs or rich, angry residents with nothing better to do than bug the cops and prevent them from tracking down the speeders, stop-sign runners, drug dealers, meth labs, pimps, prostitutes and bank robbers plaguing the community at large.
Friday, February 2, 2007
New climbing keyword
Wednesday, I went on a long lunch ride. My coach wanted me to do some AT (Anaerobic Threshold - in layman's terms: HR is high and it hurts!) efforts. 1x10 and 1x20 minutes. I figured I'd do the 1x10 on Jefferson, since it's pretty easy to get my HR up to 170 bpm climbing, but there was some construction. By the time I got going, I got 9 minutes in, before it turned downhill and my HR went back down. Fine.
So I ride out to Woodside, trying to hit the bathroom at Tripp and Kings. Foiled! It was closed. Augh. So I headed over to Old La Honda. Knowing, that worst case, I could use the bathroom at the intersection of Skyline and 84. I really wanted to go BEFORE I climbing OLH, but that's the way it goes.
Felt like crap climbing Jefferson, so was a bit nervous about OLH. It's way longer, way harder, and I'd just done it last Saturday. Got a less than stellar time, but it was raining, sloppy and I was on my heavy, rain bike. Honestly, all I wanted to do was get a better time than Saturday. I was on my climbing machine (Orbea), so I felt confident that I could beat the time. It took awhile to get my HR up there, but once it was at 170, it stayed put. I kept my speed around 7 mph, and kept at it. Around the half-way mark, I checked my time. Damn! I was making some serious time! I decided to just keep at it, and keep going till I hit the top, or blew up. If I blew, I could ride slowly to the top, so no harm, no foul. I'd have gotten my 20 min AT effort in, so that'd be good. I was even doing so well that I'd forgotten to use my climbing "keyword", MAGNIFICENT! Usually that keeps my mind off of the pain, and makes me laugh.
Anyone who climbs this hill knows this spot. The spot where the road narrows, because there's a huge tree growing to the right of the road. Probably the left too, but all I know is the road becomes one lane. It's absolutely breathtaking. Of course, my HR was so high, that I was already breathless, but I digress. As I'm approaching the "trees", I hear a car approaching behind me. Because I'm nice, I sped up and got over to the right as quickly as possible, all the while praying said car would wait till I had more room. Since they did, I waved to them, thanking them. They passed me and gunned the engine. Okay, that was weird, but whatever. After they were a "safe" distance away, the female passenger yells "BITCH!". WTF? Dude, I was THANKING you! I hold up my right hand like, "What's your problem?" and they slam on the brakes. "Cool, I can go tell them how fricking stupid they are, since I was thanking them." Trust me, if I was being a bitch, they'd have known it. As I get closer, they change their mind and speed off. Chickenshits.
I was pretty mad, and I kept thinking, "Dang, what's wrong with them? Stupid morons", but then I decide to just turn that anger into energy. I'm really good at that. I used my anger to keep turning the pedals over and driving uphill. Near the top, I realized that I was going to do really well, so when the road got all bumpy and un-even (the end), I was up out of the saddle, driving to the finish. When I hit the stop sign, I stopped the computer.
I'd just clocked my best time on Old La Honda. EVER. And it was the last day of January. I rode to a time 3.5 minutes FASTER than I'd done only 4 days earlier. Wait till June... I might actually achieve my time goal for OLH this season!!! Only 1.5 more minutes to shave off!
Gosh, if they'd called me the C word, I might have gotten a sub 20-minute climb! Too bad I didn't see them at the top, otherwise I'd have arranged to be in their way again next time I climbed it!
Oh yeah. My new keyword for climbing? BITCH! It was easy to explain "MAGNIFICENT" when someone heard me say it aloud. This one's gonna be a bit harder to explain...
Cheerio!
So I ride out to Woodside, trying to hit the bathroom at Tripp and Kings. Foiled! It was closed. Augh. So I headed over to Old La Honda. Knowing, that worst case, I could use the bathroom at the intersection of Skyline and 84. I really wanted to go BEFORE I climbing OLH, but that's the way it goes.
Felt like crap climbing Jefferson, so was a bit nervous about OLH. It's way longer, way harder, and I'd just done it last Saturday. Got a less than stellar time, but it was raining, sloppy and I was on my heavy, rain bike. Honestly, all I wanted to do was get a better time than Saturday. I was on my climbing machine (Orbea), so I felt confident that I could beat the time. It took awhile to get my HR up there, but once it was at 170, it stayed put. I kept my speed around 7 mph, and kept at it. Around the half-way mark, I checked my time. Damn! I was making some serious time! I decided to just keep at it, and keep going till I hit the top, or blew up. If I blew, I could ride slowly to the top, so no harm, no foul. I'd have gotten my 20 min AT effort in, so that'd be good. I was even doing so well that I'd forgotten to use my climbing "keyword", MAGNIFICENT! Usually that keeps my mind off of the pain, and makes me laugh.
Anyone who climbs this hill knows this spot. The spot where the road narrows, because there's a huge tree growing to the right of the road. Probably the left too, but all I know is the road becomes one lane. It's absolutely breathtaking. Of course, my HR was so high, that I was already breathless, but I digress. As I'm approaching the "trees", I hear a car approaching behind me. Because I'm nice, I sped up and got over to the right as quickly as possible, all the while praying said car would wait till I had more room. Since they did, I waved to them, thanking them. They passed me and gunned the engine. Okay, that was weird, but whatever. After they were a "safe" distance away, the female passenger yells "BITCH!". WTF? Dude, I was THANKING you! I hold up my right hand like, "What's your problem?" and they slam on the brakes. "Cool, I can go tell them how fricking stupid they are, since I was thanking them." Trust me, if I was being a bitch, they'd have known it. As I get closer, they change their mind and speed off. Chickenshits.
I was pretty mad, and I kept thinking, "Dang, what's wrong with them? Stupid morons", but then I decide to just turn that anger into energy. I'm really good at that. I used my anger to keep turning the pedals over and driving uphill. Near the top, I realized that I was going to do really well, so when the road got all bumpy and un-even (the end), I was up out of the saddle, driving to the finish. When I hit the stop sign, I stopped the computer.
I'd just clocked my best time on Old La Honda. EVER. And it was the last day of January. I rode to a time 3.5 minutes FASTER than I'd done only 4 days earlier. Wait till June... I might actually achieve my time goal for OLH this season!!! Only 1.5 more minutes to shave off!
Gosh, if they'd called me the C word, I might have gotten a sub 20-minute climb! Too bad I didn't see them at the top, otherwise I'd have arranged to be in their way again next time I climbed it!
Oh yeah. My new keyword for climbing? BITCH! It was easy to explain "MAGNIFICENT" when someone heard me say it aloud. This one's gonna be a bit harder to explain...
Cheerio!
Monday, January 29, 2007
S t r e s s and stupid people
Tomorrow is a big day. Tomorrow, is a court hearing for a man, a drunk, a total f*cking idiot who ran over my former teammate whilst riding her bike, on the day before Christmas Eve. I received news of her accident that evening, while in Seattle for holiday. I felt so helpless, being so far away, and being able to do nothing. I promised her husband I'd be there for the court hearing, as it was the day of my return. Naturally, my flight was delayed, but I made it anyway. The hearing was postponed. Till tomorrow.
Mind you, she is a strong person. The strongest, most stubborn individual I've ever known. I knew by listening to her husband (a doctor) that she would be fine. Her husband setup a website to keep all of her friends, family and the cycling community apprised of her progress. You can see it at: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/maryannlevenson . It's really great, and he updates it daily.
Now here's the kicker. The granddaughter of the "accused" (and I say this loosely, since he was actually detained by witnesses, arrested and spent the night in jail), had the audacity to post to her caringbridge web-site. WTF? Oh I'm sure she was sorry, but my guess is that she is sorrier her grandfather is being painted as a drunk, than the fact that he seriously injured, and nearly killed a human being, wife and mother of 3 rambunctious boys. My favorite line is: "Changing lanes is dangerous." Of course it is, especially when someone changes 2 lanes and then rolls into the bike lane, and then it's really fricking dangerous for a cyclist in said bike lane. My 2nd favorite line in the post was that Walter Sorensen (drunk, old fart, stupid man, and yes, I hope he and his lame-ass granddaughter find this, read it, and then I dare them to contact me) mistook a living, breathing, MOVING human being on a bike, IN the bike lane, for an "inanimate object" lying in the road. I wish that someone would explain to me how one is unable to distinguish between a person and an inanimate object. God, how bombed, or old and feeble is he that he can't figure this sh*t out? Damn. Maybe he shouldn't be driving any longer, hmmm? I don't know, call me crazy. Good people take responsibility for their actions. Bad people just make excuses.
Hopefully, by posting this rant, I can behave myself in court tomorrow and not embarrass MaryAnn, her husband, their boys, their attorney and the rest of my cycing community. I think I can. I hope I can!!!
Mind you, she is a strong person. The strongest, most stubborn individual I've ever known. I knew by listening to her husband (a doctor) that she would be fine. Her husband setup a website to keep all of her friends, family and the cycling community apprised of her progress. You can see it at: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/maryannlevenson . It's really great, and he updates it daily.
Now here's the kicker. The granddaughter of the "accused" (and I say this loosely, since he was actually detained by witnesses, arrested and spent the night in jail), had the audacity to post to her caringbridge web-site. WTF? Oh I'm sure she was sorry, but my guess is that she is sorrier her grandfather is being painted as a drunk, than the fact that he seriously injured, and nearly killed a human being, wife and mother of 3 rambunctious boys. My favorite line is: "Changing lanes is dangerous." Of course it is, especially when someone changes 2 lanes and then rolls into the bike lane, and then it's really fricking dangerous for a cyclist in said bike lane. My 2nd favorite line in the post was that Walter Sorensen (drunk, old fart, stupid man, and yes, I hope he and his lame-ass granddaughter find this, read it, and then I dare them to contact me) mistook a living, breathing, MOVING human being on a bike, IN the bike lane, for an "inanimate object" lying in the road. I wish that someone would explain to me how one is unable to distinguish between a person and an inanimate object. God, how bombed, or old and feeble is he that he can't figure this sh*t out? Damn. Maybe he shouldn't be driving any longer, hmmm? I don't know, call me crazy. Good people take responsibility for their actions. Bad people just make excuses.
Hopefully, by posting this rant, I can behave myself in court tomorrow and not embarrass MaryAnn, her husband, their boys, their attorney and the rest of my cycing community. I think I can. I hope I can!!!
Friday, January 26, 2007
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