Prostitutes, day laborers...and me

So as I mentioned in this post, I take the bus to work. Saves me on parking garage fees and gas, and it's an easy trip into downtown L.A. I like it, and I try and sell anyone else working in downtown to take the bus. Although I'll be honest, it's not the most comfortable trip in the world, so even though it has all these benefits, a car ride is always much more comfortable. Which is why I accepted Wendy's offer.

Who's Wendy you ask? Well, I arrived at the park n' ride and was walking over to the bus stop when an Asian woman in about her 50's rolls down her window and says "are you heading to downtown? If so, wanna hop in with me for a ride?" I looked around, and said "me?" "Yeah" she said "c'mon hop in!" Which, of course, made me feel like I was a prostitute roaming the streets. So I got in and we started discussing my price and what she gets for it....just kidding. She needed me in order to hop into the carpool lane. Yeah, it was a bit uncomfortable, but she went to explain to me that she does this all the time. And apparently so do a lot of people that commute to downtown. They just pull over at the bus stop and pick up a passenger. So as I'm thinking that I would never want my wife picking up random dudes to to drive into L.A. Wendy says "my husband doesn't think it's a good idea for me to pick people up, but I tell him everyone here seems friendly enough." Surrrrre they are.

Since I learned this, now I'm actively looking for people to pick me up while waiting for the bus. Which translates into me staring like a creep at everyone that drives by. If anyone, and I mean anyone; gives a signal like they'd stop, I start raising my eyebrows at them and nodding my head so as to show "pick me, pick me" which (hence the title) made me feel like one of those day laborers you see outside of the Home Depot or Uhaul rental. Hasn't worked yet though. I'll continue working on my sales pitch when cars drive by, and keep you posted if I have any luck.

Superbowl 10k and festivities, 2010

I'm going to have to start dating these specific races now, because I'm starting to hit the point where I'm talking about the same races year after year (is that a good thing? A bad thing? Am I getting old and predictable, or just dedicated and consistent?)

This years race had a big turnout of friends, and it was also going to be a barometer for several of us that are planning on racing in a couple of triathlons this year, specifically Carlos, Drew, and I. The total cast of characters included: Kelly, her sister Kristy, Nick, Paul, their friend Jay, and Carlos' girlfriend Brittney. Half the trouble was the logistics alone, getting down to the start. For some reason that aspect always stresses me out the most. So, we met at my house, I gave everyone a ride down in the xterra then i doubled back to my place grabbed my bike carlos and brit (who rode down on pegs) rode down, locked bike up at spectrum then ran the race by myself. Phew!

Actually, in terms of the race report; that's about all there is! I wore the superman cape, and somehow got started up towards the front, which I must say isn't that much fun. People that are waaay too focused, and not wanting to chat with the peeps around them. One happening of note: about 500 yeards into the race there was a loud crash, the equivalent of hearing a bike crash (you know I have experience in this if you read this post, and that post)and I look over, there's a girl in her twenties, who just absolutely killed a parking meter. I mean, she was obviously embarrassed, but also just too hurt to get up or even try and recover. It was ugly, and I for one know how that feels:not well.

I ran hard the whole race, and started doing the math at mile 4 to try and figure what my finishing time would be. I realized coming down the straight away looking at the ocean, that unless I blew a hammy, I was going to finish around 50 minutes. My goal was to break 50 minutes, so I double-timed it the last mile, and actually got in at 49 minutes, something-something seconds. A new personal record! A good sign for the upcoming triathlons, and it was good to see that everyone came in happy and satisfied with their times. We hit the beer garden afterwards, which is always a scene, but it is a must-do to get your two free Asahi's. The Superbowl hijinks that followed were 'typical' for us, so rather than discuss I'll include my video recap here:

Youtube video

I will say this. I didn't include in this video about 30 minutes worth of keg stands, and the fact that we polished a keg by halftime.

So what have we learned here?

None of us are getting thaaaaat old.

I turned 32 this past week, and although I'm not feeling any older, I noticed that there's a few more gray's sprouting up, knees are a little more achy, and it's tougher to get moving in the morning.

My friend Tony and Coral made me a nice happy birthday video, with their fish eye camera, sung in Polish:



The older I get the more I cherish my friendships, and Tony and I became friends when we were 7 years old. Amazing!

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...