Fickle Love

I have watched movies, listened to music, and read poetry that eludes to the great feeling of love.

According to these reliable sources, when a loved one is not around the world loses its beauty and even food loses its taste.

Usually when hubby isn't around for dinner, I heat up some leftovers or make such gourmet dishes as cheesy rice. After a busy day and a week where I've resumed bike riding after a short hiatus, tonight I felt like eating real food despite my true love's absence from the meal.

I cooked up some delicious french dip sandwiches, complete with yummy au jus.

I sat down, by myself, to enjoy my great idea.

I took one bite... eh, ok.

I took another, and another, and soon I realized something.

Those movies, that music, those poems are right!

Even the best food loses its taste when my true love isn't here to enjoy it with me.

Despite being sad about the not-so-delicious food, I was exhilarated that I'd reached such an epiphany. I ate the food. Not what I'd hoped, but that's love's fault, right?

I took the dishes upstairs and started cleaning up. As I threw away the trash from my concoction, I realized something.

Instead of 3 cups of water in the Au Jus, I'd put in four.

Hence the not so delicious taste.

Well my love, perhaps you don't make food lose its taste as I'd previously given you credit, but you are still wonderful... unlike my dinner.

Another Plesko peformance for the books...

Right now I am in a horribly uncomfortable, yet oh so sweet feeling, Moab Super 8 bed. To my right there are Chris and his dad (Pete and Re-Pete) making this really cute half snore/half sigh thing that I've come to realize is hereditary -- oh yes, there's a picture, but unfortunately the download cable is at home. I napped for a little while, but these two have outlasted me and I'm starting to think my quest for pie may be a solo adventure in a little while. Why could they possibly be so sleepy?


Seven hours ago, Chris completed his first 24 hour race. He's done longer and arguably harder before, but a sanctioned 24 hour event where you go around in big 15 miles circles for 24 hours is a whole different ball game. Let me remind you...

I take you to Moab 2006 -- The Storm of the Century. We hauled down Dave N, Dad2, me, and Chris down in the Element and were joined by Scott and Melissa. Once down there we anxiously awaited the start of the race, with high hopes of a first try, first conquest 24 hour race for Chris. Eventually the rains began and never stopped. Without any sort of Easy-Up and a couple of leaky tents, we ended up rigging four or five tarps between cars for a makeshift (and quite crappy) shelter. Eight hours into the race and it was cancelled. Chris had been doing well, and completed five laps in a soggy eight hours. Desert schmesert.

Discouraged by Moab's lack off desertness, we headed down to Tucson, AZ in February 2007...

Fast forward to 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo -- The Great Stomach Disaster. This time Chris and I drove down alone with the poochy and met Dad2 and Little re-re-Pete (little brother Nick) for a hotish, very windy, and quite cactusey second try at a 24 hour conquest. Chris was ripping up the course until around 1 am when his stomach lost all ability to process food and Chris regretfully and painfully pulled the chord on another race. Between the borrowed Easy-up blowing away and everything being covered in a million little cactus pricklies (claiming the life of a much loved pair of SmartWool socks and a lot of hunks of dog's fur), the environment wasn't exactly our friend on this one either.

So here we are, one year after The Storm of the Century, sleeping in the same hotel, smelling of the same Moab sand, with a smaller but more experienced crew, much happier and more tired. There will be many stories told by Chris and his fellow competitors that will go down in the epic record books. The greatest story of all is not my squeemish 2am application of cold Butt'r to Chris's shorts as he drowsily and unknowingly explained that he was "hot down there" to a giggling posse of friends, but it was rather Chris's conquest over himself. I'll let him tell the story and results, but I'm happy to say (once again and in my humble opinion) that I'm married to one of the top 10 mountain bikers in the region, country, and probably the world. I'm also happy to say that the combination of Dad2 and myself makes for a pretty well-oiled crew-machine. Only a Dad can spring up with that much urgency every two hours when his son radios in saying he's hungry.

The three of us are exhausted and one of us can hardly walk, but we're all relieved and exhilarated by Chris's performance on the bike. In addition to our happiness about him, we are so proud of the Feedback team who pulled down a 3rd place in the Co-ed Pro-am category, Bill and buddies who pulled off an impressive 2nd place in the Clydesdale category, and Nicholette/Steve/Dan/guy we don't know, but will probably know soon, on their excellent conquest of their first 24 hour team race. We had a great group of home, internet, team, and new friends hanging around enjoying Moab (which actually could've passed as a real desert this trip).

Pictures of action-Chris, sleeping Chris, the Hotelement, and our WAY cool and super dialed in pit setup to come. HUGE THANKS TO MOM AND DAD FOR THE EASY-UP TENT! Your mad shopping skills were the envy of Solo Row as everyone else probably paid way too much for theirs.

Off for my own solo conquest -- PIE!

Challenge

Last weekend I found myself on Culebra Peak looking like this:

It was about 11:00 am and I was headed off of a windy, cold summit about a hundred yards behind Chris. We were walking down a large grassy hill and as I closed one of my five hoods around my head to gaurd against the wind I tried to ignore my knee that screamed with every step. I looked ahead and saw Chris and Turbo walking gleefully down the slope without a care in the world.

Eventually the "ow, ow, ow" in my head was interrupted by an interesting thought "how did I get here?"

Not here in the theological sense, but rather, how did I (a person who appreciates nature's beauty but has never been one to engulf myself in it) end up on a cold and windy 14er on a random weekend in the middle of the busiest part of the school year -- my 7th in less than three months?

Even more than simply being there, how did I end up loving being there? How could I find being wind-burned, tired, 5 hours from home, and having a screaming knee fun? How could I make it through a whole trip like this without complaining? I've never been the "adventurous" one in the family. No one would look at me or meet me and think "hard core." Pretty soon I looked ahead and saw this:


I realized I have one person to thank, or to blame, for all of this: Chris.

Then I got quite nostalgic. And here it will spew into a pre-Moab tribute to my wonderful husband:

Chris, you challenge me like no one else in my life.

From the day we met, you have pushed me to do things that I would normally shy away from. Even the way we met was a challenge to my personality. My brother invited me to a triathlon team party where I wouldn't know anyone but my brother and his girlfriend, and there would be "this Chris guy who you might like." Luckily my roommate was out of town and I, in very un-marni-like fashion, said I would go. Even now, I don't think I'd go. I'm not sure what got into me. Once there I "danced" to Nelly with that strange Chris guy (I don't dance, and I REALLY don't dance to hip-hop, especially with some random guy I just met) and as the evening progressed, I snuck away from the cops. Obviously, from day 1, you challenged me to push the limits that I had unknowlingly set on my personality.

You've gotten me to work on and drive race cars. You've given me the opportunity to learn to drive and ride on a sport bike. You taught me to run and somewhat enjoy it. You've even showed me how to slide in a car in the snow and not think I'm going to immediately die. Most recently we've learned to hike 14ers together... I've learned that I can lose footing and not slide off the mountain... I've learned the wind can blow and I won't blow away... I've learned that I'm actually not too bad at peeing above treeline. You've introduced me to the great world of biking... I've learned that I can fall and not break things... I've learned that I can go downhill above 5 mph and the bike won't spontaneously combust... I've learned that I can race other girls and not totally suck.

Without you in my life I never would've experienced these adventures and I never would've learned those lessons. While I feel good about my accomplishments... I see what you attempt, what you accomplish, what you aspire to do with your life, and
it humbles me.

Many people call you "crazy." Hey, I've even called you crazy (even my blog header hints at such). Most people see what you do and think that there's something wrong with you.

What I don't tell you often enough, is that I admire what you do. I wish we all had the attitude that you have when looking at challenges. You see an adventure, no matter how outrageous, and think "I can do that" while I look at the same adventure and tend to think "I could never do that".

Luckily for me, you tend to believe in me much more than I ever believe in myself.

Luckily for you, I tend to believe in you even more than you believe in yourself.

I know that a few rides have brought down your bike confidence this year. I also know that you can do anything you put your mind to.

I can't wait to be your crew at 24 hours of Moab again this year. Every race you enter or ride you attempt, I look at you with such admiration and pride. To me, despite what I may sometimes say, you aren't crazy. You are wonderful, smart, talented, and ambitious. Without your "craziness," I wouldn't be half the person I am today and you wouldn't be half the person you are either. I love you because of what you have accomplished and dream to accomplish, not in spite of it.

You are, and will always be, my puzzle piece. Our personalities may be quite different but it's our differences that make us fit together perfectly. Thank you for making me a better person.

Good luck this weekend in your big race. I can't wait to be there to push you out on your bike and cheer the loudest for you as you finish. I'm your biggest fan and I'm proud of you for even attempting such great things.


P.S. Remember during the race that I may be mean at 2:00 am, but it's for your own good :)

And then there was one...

Our Wednesday group is generally a pretty reliable source of weekly riding.

Lately, however, the group has quickly dwindled.

Two weeks ago we had four.

Last week we had three.

This week it was going to end up just being Chris and I on good old Marshall Mesa. Except today I'm getting sick again. AGAIN. *$&*(#()@*#$^$!!!!

My throat hurts. My ears and head are feeling like they are going to burst.

So today the group lamely dwindled to one. Poor Chris is out riding alone on a Wednesday night. I feel sad for him. I wanted to ride. I've been looking forward to riding. I didn't ride last night because I knew there'd be a good opportunity tonight. This morning I thought I'd still make it. This afternoon I had to email Chris to tell him that I, too, am now super lame and not riding tonight.

Sorry love :(

From Rockies to Rockies

Saturday night, hubby and I embarked on another great Plesko adventure. After plans got derailed due to the unpredictable fall weather at 14,000 feet, we still managed to squeek out an unbelievable weekend. We ate a delicious dinner at my sister-in-law's parents' house and then Chris drove us the 4+ hours down to some ranch gates 9 miles from the New Mexico border. We thought ahead and set up the air mattress in the back of the hotelement and around 1 am we curled into our sleeping bags with Turbo keeping watch in the driver's seat and attempted to drift off into sleepyland. Wind howling against the car and the bright almost-full moon kept us from getting any actual sleep and our 5 am watch alarm came both WAY too quickly and not quickly enough. I whined my way into keeping us curled into the warm sleeping bags until about 5:30 when Chris finally coaxed me out into the windy cold to start our adventure up Culebra Peak.

Culebra Peak is on privately owned land and the owners are not so keen on the idea of letting dogs (let alone most people) hike there. Luckily for us, a nice guy from the 14ers.com board talked the ranch owners into allowing this dogs/owners day (in completely Culebra, his dog finished 14er #53 -- nearly every official 14er in Colorado). Apparently dogs haven't been allowed to hike there in over 10 years and Turbo is one of the luckly five to summit in at least a decade. We paid our fee and took the E up a road that made even Chris a little nervous. The E is 4 wheel drive, but doesn't have the clearance or gearing to crawl over such harsh roads without scraping, cursing, and clutch-smoking. But, we all survived, including the car, and once at the top we set off to climb 14er number nine for the Pleskos.

Climb details and pictures will come tomorrow. For now, I just got home from a kickball double-header where I acutally didn't seriously suck. The Rockies are currently playing in the bottom of the 13th to catch a wildcard playoff bid. I was a die-hard Rockies fan for a few years, never missing a game whether it was on TV or just on the radio. The Rox have, frankly, sucked for many years and in those years my fan-dom, and most of the city's, has dwindled down to nearly nothing. Today it seems like back in the 90s. We actually had a radio out at the kickball game listening to the Rockies/Padres game. Everyone asked how they were doing. No one has cared this much about Colorado baseball in this town since, well, ever really. I actually listed to the game on the way home and gave up going to sleep at a nice early time to watch the rest of this game. Did I think they'd pull it out? Heck no. Especially when the Padres hit a two-run homer in the top of the 13th. And holy crap. They just pulled it out. I can't believe it. Was the call at the plate to end the game iffy? Absolutely. But oh well. No worries. I'll call it now, the Rockies will find a way to flop it in the first round. But they provided a night of hope for Colorado baseball to last another 10 years. Good job boys.

Finally off to bed. More mountain report tomorrow :D

Naked Lip

I haven't blogged in a while. Not sure why, perhaps it is because I've been so freaking busy, or perhaps it is just because I haven't had anything good to say. Hmmm... well, either way, here's an update:

I rode on Wednesday with Chris, Erik, and Steve at Marshall Mesa. It's amazing how quickly our Wednesday group has dwindled now that it is "fall". No girls are coming at this point in the year -- I think the inevitable night riding keeps some away, I also think we've entered a busy time of the year when it's simply easier to not go ride. I haven't been great at riding myself, getting over this cold has put me back to riding once a week and I can't wait to get back into it. Night riding or not, I still look forward to our Wednesday rides and hate the thought of missing them. This week we rode a trail closer to our house and ended up being the only ones at our post-ride dinner. During the ride I wore a small version of the sun on my head which made the issue of night riding almost non-existent. It's amazing what a little wattage can do to your outlook when it gets dark. I could actually see the trail! We ended up riding almost 20 miles. Going from basically no riding for the past three weeks to 20 miles was a surprisingly easy task and that made me feel good about my base fitness. I must not have lost too much fitness with the four pounds that I lost while being sick... now I'm just a lighter-weight version of myself -- haha.

(bug spray + Mesa dirt = excellent way to fake 'n bake tan)

This weekend was one of those lovely one-day weekends. I had a mandatory science training on Friday night and all day on Saturday. Booooo. It was incredibly borring but at least I'll get paid for it in November. I'll never say no to an extra $200. Between my trainings and Chris's tour-de-front-range this weekend, we realized we hadn't really seen each other too much since Thursday. So we spent the day together after a VERY early morning hair appointment in Boulder. We had two breakfasts, one at Starbucks and one at Panera. We bummed around some mountaineering store in Boulder and then came home to get my work done, clean up the house, and relax on the couch. Today I became 3-0 in Fantasy Football, beating out my own mother. Last week I creamed the TMom, and beat out my sister's family the week before. Poor Chris is at the bottom of the Fantasy Football barrel -- looks likes he should stick to bikes. Turns out my strategy is awesome -- pick people who have weird names (i.e. T.J Houshmandzadeh).

Anyway, a whole day together lead down to the basement where the closet got gutted and we got distracted by "old" stuff. We looked through old pictures, some of when we first met, some before we met. We decided we were (are?) huge dorks and it's a miracle either one of us fell for the other one. Our kids are going to make such fun of those pictures one day ("Mommy, why did Daddy have yellow hair? He looks silly"). In the spirit of dorky pictures, we decided to have a little fun with the camera tonight. Digital allows us to delete those terrible pictures, so what fun will the kids have one day always looking at pictures where the smile is just right? We created some new material tonight with some stick-on mustaches. Enjoy future children and mean-spirited friends... hehehe...




(notice the new haircut -- after having the same style since I was 18, I decided to go for a change -- not too drastic, but different at least)

(Turbo has a mustache here but he's currently trying to eat it)

Happy new week!

Lungs of steel

Lots of things to update. Of course the most important first.

I rode yesterday. If you call riding leaving a lung on the trail in between hike-a-biking and pedaling straight into rocks. Yeah, the ride wasn't pretty. I've been sick with a chest/head cold for a solid week and a half and it is a SLOW moving sickness. Luckily I'm starting to not feel like I'm going to die, so I wanted to get out of the house and ride for a change. It wasn't pretty. My legs felt pretty good and I sure had the heart for riding, but my lungs and bike handling skills didn't exactly match up. I felt like I'd never ridden a bike before. The tiniest of rocks would throw me off balance and make me get off and walk. The only time I made any sort of decent move was up a little waterbar and that was only because there was a cuteish guy standing at the top looking at me like I wouldn't be able to make it. So of course I had to prove him wrong :) I think he ended up impressed and gave me some nice encouragement. I rode 2.5 miles up Lookout Mountain and then decided to skip the last push to the top in favor of riding part way down the road and then back on the trail to the car. Riding alone in the dusk/darkishness was entertaining. I saw a bird in the middle of the trail that wouldn't move so I stopped and started to think about how to get it to move when someone came up behind me and asked if they could pass. I must've jumped about 10 feet thinking it was a talking bear. I also hit a sandy spot going slowly, paniced and grabbed the breaks, almost had a fairly spectacular slow speed crash but saved it and then had shaking legs that wouldn't calm down the rest of the ride down. Good news is I got to wear my cute new jersey for the first time! Yay!


My new K/1 class is going very well. I'm having a blast with the little kindergarteners and the 1st graders seemed to have matured a bit with the responsibility of "setting a good example". It's a challenge for sure, but I'm really loving it. Here's my funny story for the day:

Today I was reading a book and this little guy (who is classically entertaining in so many ways including his mohawk and super thick glasses) interrupts and the following conversation occurs (the kid is Y)
Y: When I grow up I'm not going to read books. Actually, I'm not going to read nothing.
Me: Oh yeah? What are you going to do when you grow up?
Y: I want to sit around and eat and play video games all day.
Me: Well, what are you going to do to make money? What will be your job?
Y: (pauses for a second) I'm going to make statues.
Me: (didn't expect that one -- usually it's a fireman or power ranger) Hmmm, well, when you get people to tell you what they want you to make, you'll have to read the note.
Y: They can just tell me.
Me: What about your video games? When you get a new video game you'll have to read the instructions right?
Y: I get new video games and I don't have to read the directions now.
Me: Well, people aren't as smart when they get older.
Y: Hmmm.


Hehehe. I met my match :D

New Beginnings?

I just want to point out that right now I'm wearing a sweatshirt, bundled in a blanket, and so cold that I just had to close all windows and doors in the house. Fall is a'comin!
***********************
Off to a new week of work. Should be quite interesting with lots of good blogging material. Due to the kindergarten class being up to 35 kids right now, there's a VERY good chance that, as of Tuesdayish, I will no longer be a 1st grade teacher but instead I'll be a K/1 teacher (again!).

Having done it before, I 'won' the opportunity to teach a K/1 and give the other English 1st grade teacher some of my kids (including, yes, the very apple of my eye that has been making the first three weeks of school harder than imaginably possible) so that I would have room to fit 9+ new kinders.

It's not *official* yet, but rather just a very good possibility. I, of course, am all for the opportunity to give the apple of my eye to a different teacher (although she is probably also going to end up in a separate school in the end), I've done a K/1 with great success in the past, and LOVE Kindergarteners in general... sooooooo... it could be a good change. It also is going to pose many more problems and complications (like, I'm not sure how I'm going to be teaching math being the only K/1 teacher, hmmmm). So we'll see.

Good thing I'm good at rolling with the punches.

"You'd never take a walk with me"

So, first things first. I haven't been to work in two days because I'm still sick. I think I'm slowly getting better, but I still have a hacking cough and can't stand up for more than two minutes without being out of breath and lightheaded. It's amazing how you can go from the peak of your fitness to barely able to walk up the stairs in two short weeks. Good thing I love being a teacher because it sure takes a toll on your mental and physical health -- especially this time of year.

The weather is feeling downright fallish today and it makes me have a serious itch to go ride. Chris is out doing that right now and I'm incredibly envious. A chill road ride with a clear view of the Flatirons, taking in the scenery and fresh air sounds heavenly. Heal, Marni, heal.

To make myself feel better for being at home I've done three things. 1) I did the strenuous task of whipping up some brownies for dessert tonight -- yumm! 2) I did some prep work for some delicious parm/rosemary pork chops for dinner -- double yummmm! 3) Downloaded the latest P!nk CD.

#1 and #2 are very me. #3 is not so much. Let me explain.

Buying a new CD, even through i-tunes, brings me back to the days of being a teenager. I'd get a few extra bucks, go to the Best Buy in the Probe, look at the CD section FOREVER and finally land on the one CD I wanted. I'd play it over and over and over again until about 3 weeks later when it'd land in a pile with the other CDs I used to play over and over and over again. It didn't happen that often, but it made driving anywhere exciting for the next few days knowing you'd get to listen to it.

Now-a-days I download the music, rarely burn it on to a CD, so therefore rarely hear it in my car. But it does make mundane tasks like cleaning or cooking more fun because I can play the music off the computer. Hence the reason I did the brownies and pork chops chores tonight despite feeling pretty crappy. I rarely download CDs -- maybe one every six months -- so when I do, it feels like a guilty pleasure.

Also, P!nk isn't exactly my normal selection. Due to the XM in my car, I've expanded my music tastes. I heard a few P!nk songs I liked, and luckily they are all on the same CD. Hence the purchase. The point of it all is still coming.

I downloaded the CD and heard a new song that I really liked. I tend to stay out of political discussions -- or any discussion that pits core beliefs against core beliefs -- as a personal choice. I don't mind other people having them. I don't really mind listening to them, I'm just not a fan of participating. I don't really have that ability to not take things personally. I think I missed that crucial step in growing up. To me, everything is personal. It's a flaw and a positive characteristic at the same time. It's what makes me a good teacher and a bad teacher. Eeeenyway, if you're not a huge fan of Mr. Bush in Washington, you might enjoy P!nk's "Dear Mr. President" song featuring the Indigo Girls. I may be a little late to the party, but it shows some serious professional, for lack of a better word, balls to be willing to put out a song like that -- it is a tasteful criticism of some things going on. I'll leave it at that.

Ooooh! Brownies are beeping! YUM!

Climb that mountain

Today I am sick. I woke up Sunday morning not feeling well, spent Monday feeling terrible, woke up Tuesday morning thinking I'd turned the corner so I went to work, and now I'm sidelined (Tuesday night) on the couch feeling like there is a rock on my chest and an elephant in my sinuses. Lovely. There's a good chance I won't be going to work tomorrow.

If I don't go to work, I won't be able to go on our Wednesday night ride. If I don't go on our Wednesday night bike ride, I won't be able to wear my cute new Twin Six "Queen of the Mountains" jersey that Chris bought me. Sad.

Anyway, before getting sick we had a great weekend with Chris's mom and sister in town. Here are a few pictures from our climb up Mt. Sherman. HUGE props to the flatlanders who overcame some altitude issues to summit their first 14er! You guys are awesome!





And now the best picture of all. Here's Chris and I if we stop doing anything active and eat nothing but twinkies for the rest of our lives.

Chris will probably make a good write-up of the climb in the next few days -- he's good at that. If I'm stuck on the couch with this darn cough tomorrow, maybe I'll post more of a narrative myself.

Adios.

Another phrase I never thought I'd have to say...

"Butts are not used to turn off lights"

Yep. Came out of my mouth. Teaching has to be the most hillarious profession in the world. Despite all of the stress swirling around my room right now, they are, in fact, still five and six year olds. Thank goodness for that.

Season Wrap-Up

Race miles in 2006: 5
Podiums: None. Actually, in that race, I got last in my class -- an anti-podium.

Race miles in 2007 (April 1 - August 31): 147.3
Podiums: 3. Two race podiums and an overall series podium.

Mmm, yeah.

I've say I've kicked it up a notch.

Yesterday I finished the Winter Park series. I raced a race that, apparently, has been ranked in the top 5 mountain bike races in the world. Armstrong even did this race in '99 (A LOT faster than me). King of the Rockies proved to be a challenge, but rather than stressing about this race, I just went out and had a good time. At one point in the race, I had a song stuck in my head and actually broke out a little dance while riding. In retrospect, I should've raced a little harder. I should've had more of a killer instinct and tried to podium one last time for the season (afterall, Chris will be making me move to Sport instead of Beginner next year, so it'll probably be a while before I have another legitimate chance at placing in the top 3). I knew I had 2nd place for the series pretty locked up (although 3rd made a heck of a showing and ended up tying me for 2nd -- good for her, but I'm still not convinced she didn't cheat). Instead of rushing, I enjoyed the ride -- all 25ish miles of it. Honestly, with more and different food, and more water, I feel like I could've ridden even more (I can say that because I didn't have to).

The first part of the race was fine -- a downhillish section on dirt road -- I let most of the pack go and then would ride up to one girl, draft for a second, then slingshot up to the next. I was having fun playing with some tactics Chris has been teaching me on the road. Could I have hammered and gone a little faster? Probably. I played a little with gearing -- what would happen if I shifted up to the big ring? What would happen if I spun faster/slower? It was fun. I smiled and tried to talk to girls as I passed them and then get a big kick out of the nasty look they'd give me for sounding so chipper. I played that game through the whole race and it was, at least, very entertaining to me. Most girls get bitter when they sit on a bike seat. I'm not sure what that's all about.

The first climb was nice -- steady but not technical, long but not steep. I got into a rhythm and hung on to the wheel of the girl who ultimately got 2nd for the race. I should've stuck with her, or passed her when I knew I could climb faster than the pace she was setting. When the hill flattened out, she was gone. It probably would've been an interesting race had I passed her at the base of the climb like I wanted to. Oh well. Lesson learned for another year.

The first downhill was fun -- I had warned Jeanie that it could be "dangerously fast", and her husband ultimately ended up eating it on that descent and breaking his collarbone into pieces. Poor guy. I guess I read that hill right.

The rest of the race sorta blends together only with snipets sticking out in my mind. I got growled at something from the trees in the middle of nowhere at some point. That was a little unnerving. I made it through the big water crossing for the first time. In the pre-ride I ate it onto my knee, the next race I got off and ran it, last race I made it 3/4 of the way through then realized I was in too hard of a gear to keep pedaling and had to get off, and this time I made it. Thanks to Michelle for her cheers and support... I think that was the best part of the race. I cleaned the nasty climb up Chainsaw as everyone around me walked it. I disliked the Serenity trail a lot. I spent the entire trail trying to think of the word that "serenity" comes from and could only come up with serentatious -- only to realize at 2am last night that it's simply "serene". It was not serentatious -- or serene -- at all. I hate that trail. I liked the rest.

And so it ended. I came off of Serenity to the trial that leads to the end and saw another racer pop off a different trail and thought I recognized our friend Scott. When I saw Chris I yelled "Is that Scott?" and when he said yes, I put it in the big ring and cranked as hard as possible to catch him before the finish line. Unfortunately, he heard I was in front of him and he put on the gas to catch me. That last push smoked me for good. But it was fun to try.

Turns out I didn't do so hot in comparison to the rest of my group in this particular race -- but knowing that leaves me very hungry for next year. I guess that's a good thing. I did get second overall for the series. Pretty impressive for not wanting to do any of the races. In the middle of this series I found a love for mountain biking. I'm no longer only in it for the delicious food afterwards. I truly love the challenge and the peace that comes with being out on the trail. I am so lucky to have such an amazing husband and great group of friends to ride with on a regular basis.

And now to the obligatory post-season thank yous:

Thank you to Chris for all of your free coaching and never ending support and bicycle maintenance. You've taught me to believe in myself, the bike, and the unknowns that make up the sport.

Thanks to Eric, Scott, Bill, Dave and Mike for always putting up with my slow-butt at the Wednesday night rides. Your encouragement, support, and sense of humor has kept me from quitting this sport on many-a-wednesday. You guys are the best people to ride with in the whole world and I'm lucky to get to tag along.

Thanks to Melissa, Michelle, and Jeanie who have made the Wednesday night rides more fun and social than simply "going for a ride." It's been nice to have girls to ride with for a change -- girls that understand that riding shouldn't just be about the length or intensity of the ride, but the fun factor plays a big role as well.

Thanks to the Feedback team for letting wear your jersey and be an honorary member of your team for the race series.

Well, that's all folks. My bike season is over. I'll still be riding, but no more racing for me until next year unless an opportunity presents itself that I just can't resist.

My goals for 2008?

Let's just say I'm going to be spending some serious time on the trainer this winter -- pregnant or not. I hope to pull out some secret weapons for both Cherry Creek and Winter Park next year. Chris and I want to do a team assault on a 12 or 24 hour at some point -- Plesko family assault involving Dad Plesko as well? I hope so! Talks have been swirling around this house of a Marni-Pugsley possibly in the future. I'm a little nervous of the whole snow-biking idea but, like everything else, I'm sure Chris will find a way to make me like it. There's also talks of a single speed in the future. Also nervous about that, but also think it will be a fun challenge. Overall, lots of great things to look forward to if the pregnant thing doesn't work out. Life right now is good, and I'm taking advantage of it.

Did I mention my kickball league starts on Monday? There should be a whole new crop of funny sports-related stories to share once that gets started... my first attempt at a team 'sport' -- Go Ovulators!

Real

My life right now is very much similar to my car. My car has a rear tire with a nail in it -- not reparable except by full replacement of all four tires. It's had a nail in it for a while. Every morning, Chris and I wake up and he very sweetly pulls out the compressor and airs it up. Every evening after work, the air has slowly slipped out and needs just a little more air the next morning. The cycle repeats and will continue to repeat until the decision is made to spend a lot of money to get new tires. It's only a nagging problem, not quite big enough to warrant immediate attention but too big to simply ignore.

School started yesterday. As much as I'd like to write about how wonderful it is, how perfect the job is, how perfect my kids are, and how perfect I am for teaching them, I can't. I have to be honest because as I tried to think back to last year's first day and couldn't quite remember how it went, if it was this hard, I looked back in my blog and couldn't find much. I'm doing a favor to myself, one year from now, as I look for some comfort that things get better. Cheers to you, me+one year, you survived.

I'll start with the good.

I've got a job. I've got a great classroom. I've got a great school. I'm really liking my principal and vice principal and feel like I could go talk to them about anything at any time, which I seriously lacked the last two years. The staff seems nice -- although the crazy hugeness creates an incredible feeling of total isolation. I've got a great teammate (while there's FIVE first grades, only one other that teaches in English so I really consider her my sole teammate)-- she's really fun, easy to talk to, and an overall great and hillarious person. I've got 22 (and growing) really cute first graders. I'm sure once I have a second to get to know them and love them for their quirks, they'll be a fun class. I'll have funny stories eventually. I'm sure I will.

I'll end with the... well... nail in the tire part.

I have an incredibly challenging student. A student that has, in two short days, thrown me in to a deep pool of professional insecurity. The first day was the worst day I've had as a teacher. I didn't know what to do with this kid. There wasn't much background information given to me, and I felt totally lost and frustrated. This student was EVERYWHERE doing EVERYTHING. Halfway through the afternoon, in the middle of class, I almost cried. But didn't. Until I got home at least. As soon as school got out I ran to the special ed teachers and absorbed any piece of advise they could throw my way. I spent the morning taping off areas of the floor, moving tables, doing anything I could to make myself feel a little more prepared. A lot of it worked this morning. I actually got to teach a bit. The afternoon wasn't the best. I guess I should take what I can get. A morning is better than nothing.

Things will be okay eventually. I hope. I've had several staff members in and out of my classroom for various reasons and they all sing the same song: the "How do you not scream and go crazy?" song. Luckily I'm a relatively calm person. I've learned through having some other emotionally disabled kids in my room how to block out the screaming fits. I don't fall for the crocodile tears. I have sympathy for the mental, social, and emotional things that are swirling around this little person... but I've also seen how I can't be a friend to these kids. I have to be strong and stern and not fun. But I feel like I'm depriving the other 21 kids of the teacher I know I can be. A silver lining is going to shine through because of this. One day I'll say that this student taught me more than anyone else in my life. One day I'll be a better person and a better teacher because of this student.

Unfortunately though, One Day is far off, and right now all I have is Tomorrow. Just like our tire, Chris will tirelessly pump me up each morning, give me some hope, wipe my tears, force feed me giant M&Ms between sobs in the kitchen, and love me despite my deflated air at the end of the day. What would I do without him?

One more time: Cheers, me+one year, you survived.

"You tiger now"

A few quick updates...

I'm tiger now.

This was caused by a cleat/pedal full of a mudish substance, giving me a false sense of being clipped in, going down a little technical section standing with weight back, subsequently being bounced off to the right of my bike when said cleat was not actually clipped in to said pedal, and thus... tiger. All I remember is working really hard not to fall down and then dragging my right leg along my front tire somehow. Lovely. Later I fell into a rock and got another lovely case of rock-rash on the front of the same leg. Ouch. There's a nasty little hiding under my red stripes. Rarrrrr.

I'm teacher now. Almost. Kids come monday. My class is now at 24 and still growing. Eek. Here's a picture of my classroom as of yesterday -- although it's already changed slightly.






Had a *fun* adventure to the ER with hubby yesterday to make sure he wasn't going to die of a blood clot. Gee, that was fun. Luckily he's good -- no clot, no dying, no winter full of only riding indoors (that would've made for a LONG winter). I'm glad he's ok. Turbo is too.



Meow.

Unusual Fun

Sometimes the beauty of fun lies in the least fun part of an activity.

Summer is quickly fading and fall is sneakily peeking around the corner.

Add those two statements together and you have our Wednesday night ride up White Ranch.

I've been hearing, for a few years now, stories of White Ranch but I hadn't actually seen it for myself until Wednesday. I had worked it up in my head to be an incredibly steep, loose, single track trail straight up the side of a hill -- going on for miles, surrounded by hissing rattlers, people stopped every few feet gasping for air, grown men crying on the side of the trail with a clif bar in hand and a stick to beat off the snakes in the other.

Somehow, with that picture in my mind, I was psyched to get to finally do it.

I feel like Belcher is a right of passage into the front range mountain biking scene. If you haven't climbed Belcher, you can't call yourself a well-rounded two-wheeler in Denver.

I expected to walk almost the whole thing -- passing those crying men with my own teary eyes. I expected to vow never to return.

When you build something up in your mind to be so terrible, life rarely lives up to those expectations. Good thing. Turns out that while White Ranch had its bad parts -- some loose sections, some steep sections, a not-so-awesome single track loop at the top, a sketchy descent when it's DARK and you have no lights or mysteriously awesome night-vision goggle eyes like Chris -- it was fun. It was challenging. I fell. A lot. I saw my life flash before my eyes as I almost ate it seriously hard core coming down a steep, rocky part in the dark.

But I liked it.

I want to go back.

Maybe not any time in the super near future.

But I'll be back.

Perhaps with lights next time. Or maybe not. It is, after all, the least fun part of a ride that makes a ride beautiful.

Something old and something new

Three years ago yesterday (8/6/04), this is what Chris and I looked like:


Yesterday (8/6/07), this is what Chris and I looked like:




So much has changed in three years, but at the same time, so much is the same.

Three years ago I wanted to make sure I had the right hair, the right dress, the right cake. Yesterday I wanted to make sure I didn't get blown off a mountain by a storm, I wore 5 layers of tops including three different jackets, and I forgot about the smushed up hostess cupcakes in the bottom of my pack.

Three years ago we got ready for our big event as we watched a storm blow in bringing rain, lightning, thunder, and very dark clouds... the weather threatened our plans to take pictures out in Red Rocks park after the wedding. The weather cleared just in time and we were able to carry out our plans. Yesterday we got ready for our big event and we watched a storm blow in bringing rain and puffy darkish clouds... the weather threatened our plans to climb four 14ers. The weather cleared just in time and we were able to carry out our plans.

Three years ago we stood in front of all of our friends and family and promised to love each other and take care of each other no matter what, for the rest of our lives. Yesterday we stood by ourselves at 14,286 feet and kept that promise.

Happy anniversary Christopher! Life has been an adventure since meeting you six and a half years ago, and I suspect it always will be. Thank you for joining me on the ride.

****
Notice the "nice" weather on the left of my head and the cloud roaring in to the right of my head. I didn't see this cloud coming on the top of Mt. Democrat, I looked down to get Turbo's treat out, looked up, and POOF, we were surrounded.

Yee-haw

Today was Winter Park race #5 out of 6. I'll type up a better race report with a few pictures tomorrow, but for now I can tell you I got 3rd! Last time I got 3rd I was gunning for it and thought I might have it -- today I was SHOCKED. Exciting either way. Another night of sleeping with a medal :)

When it rains, it pours

I can finally breathe.

Tuesday ended up being an incredibly productive day. I interviewed for a job and got it.

Later on Tuesday, I had my appeal hearing for my unemployment claim. They initially denied me based on the fact that I officially "resigned." In the appeal I explained WHY I resigned and made sure to emphasize the fact that I wouldn't have resigned had they not given me my "non-renewal" notice.

Today I found out that I won.

Today Chris and I let out a sigh of relief.

****

Last night our group rode Chimney Gulch -- a trail that goes up Lookout Mountain on mountain bikes. It was hard, for sure. One huge climb up a mountain and then one huge descent back down. Starting the ride with a headache didn't help the cause. My body wasn't feeling the ride, but I managed to make it up without too much complaining. Coming back down, the clouds had rolled in to darken the trail and I'm still sans contacts so I was also riding virtually blind. It was a little sketchy and there was a lot more complaining. I also crashed thinking a rock was a shadow and fell over (slowly) flat on my elbow and knee onto a huge rock. Today the knee is bruised and my shoulder is killing me. Other than that, no major damage. I'm mostly happy that I didn't damage my favorite Marmot wind shirt. That would've been very sad.

So things are good.

Life is coming together very quickly.

p.s -- thanks to Mr. Nice for the picture (only a slightly tipped helmet!). Happy almost-birthday! It was good to see you back on a ride!

p.p.s -- did I mention yet that I'm on a kickball team for the fall with a bunch of friends? It's going to be hillarious. Last night they figured out the team name -- The Ovulators. Hahahahahaha...