I rode the bus in from home today to work, which always makes me feel better because I:

a) Save a little money on gas & parking, and
b) feel a little 'greener' by leaving the car in the garage.

On the bus there was a teenager sitting in front of me, and he either had some serious mental problems, or (more likely) was tweaking on some type of drug. He was tearing threads off of his shirt and throwing them on the ground, talking to himself, rolling his head back and forth. At one point he was looking at his phone and then just threw it down on the ground and left it there. I couldn't stop looking at him, and I kept thinking I should say something. Not harsh, but more so just see if he was alright. Who knows? Maybe his girlfriend just broke up with him, and he was heartbroken about it. Maybe he got in a fight with his parents...we'll never know though; because I got off without saying a word.

...Which got me thinking to Thanksgiving this year. I met my brother for a Turkey Trot run in Long Beach, and it just so happened that they were handing out random pies to people that crossed the line. When I ran across the line I won a pumpkin pie! It was great, I felt a little weird because I know that my face was as red as my shirt; it wasn't my best showing in a race; due to some serious sleeplessness. But regardless, I had a pie. Pumpkin pie. Which I love.

By and by, I was driving home after the race, and taking my time to enjoy the beautiful morning. Pulling into Hermosa, I stopped at a four-way stop on Hermosa Ave/2nd to let a lady and her dog walk by.

She was crying.

It made me so sad.

I made a right turn and slowly rode by her wondering why she would be crying on Thanksgiving, and thinking what could I do to help? I pulled over two blocks up and tried to think quickly. The only thing I could think of would be to ask if she was O.K? Then I thought, why don't I offer her my pumpkin pie? I mean, it's thanksgiving, a time to give, right? But wait, would she think I was a total creep? Here's some red-faced dude offering her a pie in the middle of the morning? Does she have mace on her, will I get sprayed in the eye? Is it worth the risk, to try and cheer her up? Arrrgh, decisions.

What would you have done?

Sadly, I did nothing. I put the car in drive and headed home. I regret not doing anything. I'm still not sure what I would've done, but damn it I wish I at least tried. I hope that lady is O.K.

IPods=Damn Shame

Technology is great, and I'm not sure how I would get through any of my training runs if I wasn't pumping tunes into my ears when running by myself. But one place where I think ipods are a damn shame is on race day. My most recent experience is at one of my favorite running races , the Santa Barbara Half Marathon, which is a beautiful race held along the coast of Santa Barbara the first week in November. This is my 4th year doing it, and my second year running it by myself.

One of my favorite things about organized races is the sense of comradarie I get with my fellow runners. No one on my pace is necessarily trying to win their age group (trust me on this one...) so it's easy to encourage the people around me, and for a little thing like a "looking good" comment to go a long way to pushing me towards the finish. But probably what I enjoy most is when it gets towards the latter part of a race, and I'm hurting and wanting the race to be over. When I come across someone who looks like I feel I really enjoy the satisfaction of being able to tell them to 'keep going' and that they're "looking good, almost there." It helps me probably more than it helps them.

This year I realized what was different when I passed a woman at mile 9 who looked to be not having fun, and when I passed I told her "almost there, you're doing great" with no response. So I looked over and noticed she had her headphones in. As I ran the last 4 miles I observed that almost all of the people running had ipods in, and in turn seemed to be in their own little world.

Now, I know the race organizers "strongly discourage" wearing ipods for safety reasons, but really shouldn't the people running want to set the tunes aside for a few hours and just soak up the atmosphere around them? Sadly, I think running is changing like the rest of the world where each individual wants to 'create' their own atmosphere that's not to be shared with anyone else.

I for one, thing this is a change for the worse.

Another ride...another fall. Sheesh.

I took a spill on my bike this past Tuesday during the morning group ride, it was real disheartening. The roads were slick due to the fog out here, and I happened to be at the front of about 40 riders, as we went around a turn, and the minute I hit the painted part of the road my tires slipped out like I was ice skating. To add insult to injury, no one stopped; basically everyone just rode around me and took off up the road. I had to bend my rear derailler into place in order to ride home.

I limped into the office later, and I got a call from a guy named 'Stu.' Turns out Stu was the guy I was riding next to when I went down. He's a partner at a firm here in L.A. and all I got out was that my name was Mitch and I'm a recruiter before I hit the deck. Stu had his secretary google-track me down. He told me he felt real bad about my fall and wanted to see if I was alright, etc etc. A pretty nice gesture I thought.

So, I'm feeling a little better about things; but then I walk out of the office and hear a bunch of noise from the recruiters...you guessed it...his secretary knew one of the recruiters here so she called her to ask about how I was doing since I was in an accident. Keep in mind that I was supposed to be 'at a meeting' not out riding the bike. Sweet times....

Triathlon Training Ride

It was a long weekend to begin with. I thought I was being sooo good by not going out on Friday night, and waking up and getting a run in with Kelly on Saturday morning that did us both well. But of course, if you run, shower, then immediately head to the Standard Hotel and begin drinking, it could lead to trouble. By and by (which I've learned you can say when you want to skip ahead in a story) after a full day of poolside drinking, and a full night of not remembering how I ended up back in my hotel room, I was one hurting dog on Sunday morning.

Water, food, a little wine (ok, not the best hangover cure, but we were in downtown so we went over to the San Antonio Winery...) and I was finally starting to feel better, so I thought it would be a good idea for me to get a bike ride in, as the L.A. Triathlon was in two weeks, and I really wanted to dial in the training. So I went out and headed towards Palos Verdes, and although I was feeling bad, I climbed Silver Spur over to Hawthorne, and came down and around for a hilly 25 miles.

I entered the Hermosa Beach city limits feeling good about myself, and as I cruised up Valley Blvd I smiled to myself at all the activity going on in the park. Kids were playing soccer, there was a family having a picnic, and someone was flying a kite. My eyes settled on an older man with a gray beard sitting on the grassy hill reading a paperback. It looked so peaceful. He looked up with a look of content that equaled mine, and we made eye contact. Feeling good, I gave him a nod. He returned the gesture.

As he did, I hit the biggest pothole on Valley, and my hands immediately slipped off the handlebars. In an instant, I was scrambling to try and recover, the front wheel was wobbling back and forth, and I pitched forward onto my left side and went down hard onto the concrete. A guy with his daughter asked me if I was all right while I was picking myself up. I said yeah, then looked down at my arm and leg dripping blood; and then proceeded to let out a loud "fuck!" before realizing that the guys daughter was standing right there watching me. An old lady stopped in her car to ask if I was ok. All I wanted to do was get the heck out of there and away from the crowds that were forming.

I grabbed my bike and walked off towards home as quick as I could. I was only a 1/4 mile from my house, which is where they say most accidents happen, don't they? My helmet was cracked, and it turned out my shoulder was oozing a little blood as well. But the worst part about the whole thing, is that the image that stuck in my head the most was seeing the look of concern on that poor old codger as I was going down. I sure hope I didn't mess up his peaceful Sunday afternoon...

Fun with Towels

So I just had this experience at the gym:

I was sitting in the sauna, reading the paper; when a guy walked in who clearly wanted to chat. So by and by we get talking, and it's a nice chat about the economy, what he does, etc etc. But it's getting kind of hot and I'm cooked enough to want to get out, so I say "alright, I'm out. What was your name?" And as he is replying "Darren" he leans over like he's going to shake my hand as I was getting up. As I got up, somehow my towel got caught on a nail or something in the wood, and it basically tore, and fell off. And so I'm standing there shaking Darren's hand with my d(*^%%$ and b$@$((s fully exposed. Not fun or comfortable for either of us.

To make matters worse, I shower off, then go to the rack to get my OTHER towel, only to find that someone had taken it! The locker room is set up so the towels are on the other side of the locker room from the showers, so I basically have to walk out in nothing but my shower shoes when I see a non-english speaking janitor in the locker room. So I ask him politely to grab me a towel, but due to his lack of understanding it turns into a :30 scene of me naked yelling at him to hand me a towel. It got everyone's attention.

Then to finish it off, I got to the car and realized the whole time I had two different shower shoes on. See picture attached:

Santa Barbara Half Marathon

The half marathon was a success! I felt like I spent as much time preparing for the weekend as I did actually doing training runs to get ready for the race. We had 10 people going, so we needed a place to stay (near race course and allowing us to get ready for Halloween), A Limo to take us to the wineries (immediately after the race.) On top of that we had to get group costumes nailed down, a place to go out that night, and a way to eat enough food throughout all of this so we could all stay upright for the entire weekend. Phew!

Andy flew into town on Thursday night, and stayed at his cousin Tom's. Lisa and I both took Friday off from work to pick up our costumes and take a nice leisurely drive up to SB. Friday night the 10 of us got together and had dinner and a few bottles of wine, but clearly we were all trying to prepare for the race the next day.

Race day was overcast and raining when we woke up-not the best conditions for running, but miraculously the rain stopped the minute we walked out of the hotel to go to the race, and we didn't feel another drop the whole time. Our first good sign of an epic weekend? Perhaps.

The race went great. I ran with Andy, while Lisa and Julie ran together. Tom ran with his sister Colleen, his friend who flew in town on short notice to run the race, and we passed by Kelly (recruiter at Matura Farrington) and her friend Alex who was running the race as a training run for a marathon they were doing soon. Andy and were running in Superman capes, mine one from an old Halloween costume, his handmade. We got a lot of good comments on the capes, and actually made it into the local paper. (Article will be included)



The real fun came after the race was over. We immediately went home and showered, and the limo was waiting for us by the time we got there to whisk us away to the wineries. We hit three of them, and even with the suspect weather had a great time. Then-quick- head back and eat pizza before donning our costumes in time to be the first group to walk into Sharkeez. Unfortunately the night was a bit of a blur, but here's what was worth remembering:

• Our entire group being the only ones on the dance floor at Sharkeez
• Andy getting carded a second time after we were inside, and taking serious offense to this when he did. All while wearing a heart costume with girl shorts on underneath, and a fake uni brow and mustache.
• Me completely sweating through my Easter Bunny costume.
• Holding the money for Andy and I in the pocket of my shorts, underneath the bunny get up. When we went to get tacos late at night, picture the scene of Andy (in his heart costume) unzipping and feeling around for my wallet while I'm leaned up against the counter of the taco stand. The lady ringing us up mentioned to us several times that we could sit down to eat, for some reason we insisted on eating our tacos standing up at the counter while everyone else ordered then sat down.

All around, a good success. I would love to do this race again next year, except for the fact that I'm going to be another year older, and I'm not sure how many of these types of weekends I can handle. Let's be honest though...probably a few more.