So much to report....

So there are 3 big things happening... The first is work. My boss has gone and gotten himself fired... That leaves me to do that job. Back in the saddle again doing management, which I don't mind at all, but it is hard to pick of the pieces of a broken team and try to get everyone back to the point that they are comfortable and ready to work again. Oh well, Rome is being sacked again, and the boss wants another shiny new coliseum. Yah....

The other big news... A few weeks ago, my bike was stolen. S.T.O.L.E.N. Absconded with. Ridden away by someone who doesn't own it. A thief in the night (or day as it happens). It happened AT the bike shop. Dropped it off for a tune up before a big ride up in Warwick... and went to pick it up. Stolen. So I got a rental for the ride, no biggie. Which leads to the next section of news... the new bike. The new bike is a Specialized Tarmac Elite. A very nice machine. Black and Blue. Sweet. Carbon Fiber. 19.0 lbs. I picked it up today and took for about an 8 mile ride. It is FAST...

More updates to come.

Athleticism

It seems to me that years ago, being in shape consisted of nothing more than just not eating the triple pounder at McDonalds and having the large shake.  Today, the concept is radically changed.  This weekend I was able to get away to a winery upstate, but instead of drinking wine all day and eating cheese, I brought my bike.

I biked 31 miles though the backcountry of Warwick, NY.  Hills, vales and everything in between. My original route was to bike about 50 miles, after about 25, I realized that I was being overly ambitious given the hilly scenario.  There were no flats, and little opportunity to sit back and relax.  I was in every gear ring combination from 1 to 21 with more then my fair share of times thinking that I wish I could gear down further.  With a max speed of 36 mph and and average speed of 12 mph, I don't feel too bad.

After (finally) getting back to Warwick, NY, I was exhausted and hungry. I decided to skip on the remainder 11 miles and take the shortcut back on the 5 miles to my start location.  I was too tired to go on, and the very nice woman at the bike shop in Warwick informed me that the remainder of my route was all up hill.  

In the end, I am glad to have done it, and look forward to a lot more riding soon.  150+ miles so far, and hoping to make my goal of 500+ this summer!

School and Riding, everything conflicting, and keeping balance.

As it appears, my constant battle in life is simply the use of my time. School has now completed the second semester, and with 3 whole weeks until it starts up again, I will be taking a new strategy. Riding. So far, my weekends consist of 20-30 miles per weekend on the bike. I am hoping to extend that this coming weekend to 40 or 50 miles. D is working at a winery in Warwick, so I am going up there with her, but instead of sitting around, drinking wine and eating cheese all day (which isn't a bad concept by any means) I will be bringing my bike for a long trek through the country.

In the past, when I have had some respite from class, I have sat my ass on the couch, watched TV, or played video games. Occasionally I would break out the camera, or even take on a house project. Now that the weather is finally nice though, it is time to bike. I am also considering biking to and from the train station, which is about 9 miles one way. This would be a great thing, except that I would have to get up earlier and get home later. It is the idea of how much time it takes that makes me hesitant. I will probably try it for a week and see how it goes.

More updates as they come in...

Time to RIDE!!!

I forget what a pure joy it can be to just "ride" on my bike.  It is nothing like running (which to me is similar to being crushed  and set on fire simultaneously).  Instead, riding is like the feeling of precision ball bearings rolling along a track.  It is therapeutic, giving me time to focus on just one thing, the road ahead. 

The idea of just being "out there", with only your mind to keep you company... The thrill of the miles rolling by below you, and the concept of being completely self powered is exhilarating.  I got up early Saturday morning to get a little riding in.  I woke up at 8, ate breakfast and was on my bike tackling the streets within 20 short minutes. After a few challenging hills, I was a few miles along, my lungs were clear, my heart was racing and my endorphins were pumping as I crested a large hill.  After a short break, I started down the backside and coasting along reached 34 mph.  It was still 6 miles to get back home, and most of it on a slight, long incline, but I didn't care.  

All said and done, about 10 miles, in about 45 minutes.  On Sunday? Another 23 miles come and gone.  And this weekend I am riding in the Bike New York, 5 Borough Tour.  42 Miles of racing around the city... through midtown, to the bronx, down the FDR, back in to Queens, the BQE in to Brooklyn, over the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge to Staten Island and the ferry back to Manhattan.  It is my first year doing it, and I am very excited.

Now my only concern is that I never have enough time for biking.  

Frustration levels rising....

Someone once told me that I was cynical, in fact I was the most cynical person that they knew.  I think I am more of a realist.  I take life, discount it and everyone in it, and evaluate the results, believing little to nothing of what is being presented.  Anyone who isn't cynical to some degree is ignorantly waiting for bad things to happen to them.  But enough about that.

Last night I went out with some friends for dinner.  I don't know why I agreed to go, and looking back I should have told them to kiss my ass, because I should know better.  These friends are loosely termed as friends; the kind I will see when it is convenient, but I would never go out of my way to see them.  They are usually expensive, where every meal is over $100 a head, and every event costs in the hundreds of dollars.  They clearly live beyond their means and are inconsiderate about what others want. What bothered me so much about last night wasn't that it is restaurant week (which, by the way is the worst way to visit a nice restaurant, in my opinion), but it was the whole deal.  After the intermezzo I found myself sitting listening to the conversation at the table.  I don't know what it was about specifically, but it was no different than any other conversation that these apes could contrive. It hit me like a ton of bricks... "Why am I sitting at a table, out late in NYC (9:30 or so) in a suit, hot as Satan's ball-sack, paying $100 for a meal that isn't that good, listening to the opinions and thoughts of people that wouldn't know how to use Silly Putty?"  At that moment, all flavor left my mouth, and everything tasted flat.  I wanted to reach across the table and choke the living shit out of each and every one of them.  I could feel the rage boiling up inside of me.  My blood became fire and my nerves as cold as ice.

I contemplated getting up at that moment and walking out.  Like in American Psycho, I could see myself taking my steak knife (still with wild boar and rabbit sausage on the blade) slitting the throats and stabbing everyone I was sitting with.  Later I was so angry with myself for sitting quietly through the rest of the dinner privately hating all of them vehemently.  They look at me and talk to me as if I was just like them, and that makes me feel like an average chump. Needless to say that I won't be seeing them again, under any circumstances, except maybe their funerals, if I can be bothered.  

It is true, it never changes...

It helps to believe.  I tell myself that, because it helps to believe that.  Self-describing redundancy is exactly the issue at hand here.  I was out the other night with the crowd from the old job.  If I haven't mentioned it yet, the old job was a bunch of monkeys in a room lording over the souls of the damned to do their evil bidding at the cost of our own morality.  That being stated, here is the breakdown of how that place works...

First, you start working there, and you believe that it is a good place.  Everyone is smiling and having fun.  Whistle while you work is the motto.  Then it starts to be an uphill grind.  There are political battles at every turn, and the departmental infighting is terrible.  Through it all you do the job, believing in the cause.  You still whistle as an example to others, so that you might be promoted one day to master monkey whistler.  After some time though, you don't believe in the cause.  You hurt from the constant pain of knives in your back, and you do the work in order to keep the organization afloat, and to keep your job.  You whistle to distract yourself from the truth and the pain.  Then, in a moment of tequila induced clarity, you realize the problem isn't the business, but it is the master monkeys.  

I left because I knew that I couldn't change the system, and it had changed me far too much.  After meeting with the condemned souls still there, I realized that now all of the master monkeys are gone, and there are no new monkeys, and yet, EVERYTHING is exactly the same.  The wheel is too big and complex to ever change without some type of IT plague that would take out every last employee in one clean swipe.  I am beginning to doubt that even that would do it.

I believe because it helps.  I used to believe that change was possible in even the worst systems.  I still believe, but only in the fact that some systems are corrupt by nature and that the universal laws of entropy will always win.  

Getting ready

It is odd to think about how much I am trying to be "prepared" for the program at Pace.  When going to school online, it is fairly easy.  Supplies include a laptop, an Internet connection, and a comfortable place to sit.  Now I am worried about having a reliable bag for my laptop so I just bought a great bag at "Village Tannery" on Bleeker St. in Greenwich village.  It was hugely expensive, but the reviews of that place phenomenal.  They have been there for somewhere over 20 years, and everyone who bought a bag from them is 100% satisfied.  One review is a woman's blog who bought a bag, and travelled with it for 11 years.  After that time, it was looking a little rough, so she brought it back and they more or less rebuilt the bag for free.  The bag is 100% handcrafted leather that will withstand about any amount of abuse I could dish out.  

On other news, I have recently discovered why everyone says "guitar hero" and "rock band" are so much fun.  I was at a friends house over the weekend, (drinking of course) and they were playing "Rock Band".  After a few minutes and drinks, I joined in.  The hilarity ensued for the next 4 hours, with all of us having the greatest time.  If you haven't played it, even if you don't like video games, it is really a lot of fun.