i completed the Wards Ferry Road Race which really shouldn't be such a big deal, but I have never finished this race. I've done it in the 1234 field and a couple times in the 1/2 field. It's a most beautiful course with cute little houses with porches on the course. one has a bazillion birdhouses of all shapes and sizes.

I stayed with the field for one lap and got shelled coming through the start finish, but unlike other years I did not unclip, pull over to the side and give up.

i mean it makes no sense to stop riding when the course is so gorgeous and I had told myself I would finish this race. So am I quite content.

I thought how Linda never gives up, always gives her darndest, and then more. I have a tendancy to feel sorry for myself and to think that I *should* be doing better than however I am doing. And if someone passes me whom I think shouldn't pass me, it is just further fuel for the sorry party i'm throwing.

attitude adjustment, please, with a side of humble pie.

the other day at a race someone mentioned to Linda that they didn't like the fact that another rider did better than them by coming in second to their third.

Linda said, "let them have their moment". And this stuck with me.

i sometimes feel like a moment hog...

so a good day.

Don't know what it will become, where it's gonna go, but gotta do something productive here at work.

a work in progress

...and, they go well with overpriced iceberg salad.

Daisy just wants some attention...

but then Minnie gets distracted.

And so do we...do we have to time trial today?

after 5 hours of tinkering with our new dsl modem, that took two weeks to arrive, the linksys router, network settings...calling earthlink a gazillion times only to hear that since we purchased our own router they cannot help us...and "would we like to pay for home networking service for $7.95 a month?", i wanted to scream.

"Minnie! barf right here in my mouth, just never, ever, on the modem again."

so this morning i pull wires, change this, change that, put in this setting, take out that setting...eat a handful of marshmallows...check my work email...and still "page could not be found"


but at last out of the wireless fog comes my hero, Victor...right away i know he's different, he's the one...and my teeth start to unclench, and i sigh a great sigh of relief.

victor says do this and damn i do it.
change this, he says.
now do this...

and shazaam, connected!

I frikin'



victor...tho i suspect that's not his real name.

there is no rhyme or reason to this post but life is like that too.

i usually like to take a long walk at lunch through the lovely houses and gardens of north berkeley. and on a day like to day when the sun is shining, the birdies are singing and my supervisor is in a meeting until 1:30, i like to take my sweet-ass time. except this glorious afternoon i had to pee something fierce.

still sunshine and time-wasting was to be had. lots of open-houses and ladies wearing strings of pearls and kerchiefs knotted around their necks standing by doorways, getting out of sedans. ready to make that sale.



would the real estate agent over yonder in the pumps and pleated pants mind if i relieved myself in an upstairs bathroom next to an expertly staged bedroom, I wondered.

probably a negative there. hold it for starbucks.


the light and the warmth and the smell of jasmine is intoxicating. up euclid to cedar, or is it virginia. i have no idea even tho i've been doing this walk for three years. linda would not be suprised.

i head down rose past the cute brick seat built into the wall. there's a piece of folded paper with handwriting. i'm intrigued by handwritten notes on the street. little glimpses into other lives.


i pick it up and unfold it. "Plan for Susan for the week of 3/19" is what it says in very neat print:

1) no TV after 8pm
2) no coffee after 12:00
3) in bed by 9pm
4) one melatonin (1.5 mg)...it goes on.

a prescription for a boring, well rested life. and now i must hold this piece of paper until I find a garbage can, not a green one for organic, but a dark blue of which there are NONE within sight.

on the side of the curb someone has written in green ink, "joy is delish" and so i meander on with my scrap of garbage.

sometimes when linda and i get to a restaurant before it opens i feel like a pigeon. let's not wait here, I tell her. let's not be pigeons. But she doesn't mind.

and so we stand by the door with the closed sign and I feel compelled to make pigeon noises. brrrbrrrbrr.

today on our ride, a one hour easy down by the marina, we navigated the wherehouse district to the bikepath.

on the side of the road, the traffic side of cars, a pidgeon walked. Not your ordinary grey pigeon.

this one was beige with brown speckles. I felt compelled to talk to it.

brrbrrbrr i called out to it.

It walked slowly as if in some sort of pigeon daze. We rode on. Did our one hour easy.

On the way back home. There it was. The same pigeon.

Look, I said. Look at that.

It was dead in the middle of the road. Beige and brown feathers stuck to the pavement and floating in the breeze.

How awful we both agreed. I was the last creature to talk to it.

Had I been a factor in its death? Did I have that power over small, creatures with tiny brains? How terrible, we thought.



And then we got to thinking.... maybe this power over small creatures with tiny brains might be put to good use.

Here Bush. Here Bushy, Bushy, I called out.



Bushy want a drink?

ippoc and i were driving home with our pizza and salad last night after our workout.

sugar levels very low.

"go bozo," i said to a kid entering the cross walk with his skateboard.
"i hate this freakin intersection," ippoc said, "watch out for that stupid," she added.
"which stupid?" i asked, feeling surrounded.
"that one," ippoc pointed to the driver with his head resting practically on the backseat.
"asshead," i said.

we're so not pretty before din-din.

neutral support is so dang cool. before the race my gears were slipping so linda said go to neutral support. so off i went, a little intimidated, to bring my old cannondale with dents, dried salamanders clinging to the downtube and the crazy plastic doll thingy on the handlebars. i rolled up and offered my technical analysis of the problem. "er, it won't stay in gear and stuff." immediately the mechanic put it up on the stand and went to work. while i waited for him to turn a screw here, adjust a nut (on the bike) there, and send me on my way, a few other riders rolled up with various problems. one wanted her back wheel trued (uh, this is ten minutes before the start). another rolled up and said that her chain kept dropping into the small ring, the rear derailler wouldn't shift down, her left shifter was sticking now and then, and would he mind oiling her chain.

meanwhile my mechanic was diligently adjusting, readjusting, lubing and relubing and still my silly gears were suffering from major slippage. I was about to say, "that's fine. i'll just stay in those 3 gears," when he grabbed some pliers and ripped out the cable and started from scratch. so cool. i think I'll follow the NRC calendar for all my bike repairs.

and racing with the men was super fun. i hung on the whole way (a lot like the salamander on my downtube) and then got shelled with 5K to go. a super good fast steady workout. ippoc has such good ideas.