December Stars

I'm in the midwest visiting family, and things here are different. The sky is grey, and the chill in the air reminds me of my long lost ability to endure cold. Even the nighttime sky looks different from here. I guess perspective is everything.
I'm lucky that once a year the most important people in my life are in the same room at the same time. I treasure the time I have here, even though it is always too short. Every time I see them my friends from Ohio ask when I will be moving back. They don't seem to get it - I'm not. I miss being here, and during certain times it's been excruciating to be absent - but leaving opened up my world, and I want it to keep expanding. I've spent my adult life wandering, I'm one of those souls who was born a long way from home.
Being here reminds me of what I'm trying to do with my life, and reassures me that funk I've been in lately is minor. I'm proud that the bravest man I've ever met calls me brother, I love you E, you inspire me.
Merry Christmas everyone!

Six Things That Make Me Happy

Today I need a reminder of the positive stuff in my life. Here are a few things that make the good times so good, that the shitty moments are forgotten.

1. Sunshine. It makes me smile every time. It also burns me since I have a seriously pale complexion. Oh irony.
2. Swimming in the ocean
3. Bikes. Everything about them. I love the freedom, I love the burning legs when grinding up a hill, and the rush of 40 MPH switchbacks. I love being a bike commuter. Plus, cycling chicks are hot!
4. Holidays with family. These are rare now that I live 2000 miles away. I especially appreciate the fleeting time I get to spend with my three brothers, and my niece and nephew.
5. Effortless friendships. I have friends from childhood, college, my time in Chicago and of course here in SD which I treasure immensely. Even when distance and laziness have caused us to lose touch, good friends reconnect without awkwardness or drama. I miss you all - give me a call
6. Independence. I moved away from home at 18, got my own place at 22. Loved that feeling. I made my last car payment, and grinned ear-to-ear. I delight in expressing my free will.

Why six things? That's just the way it works. I guess banana ice cream will have to wait for next time.

Apocalypse?

Something is not right with the world. Saturday I did not ride my bike. That might not sound shocking to normal people - but all you triathletes out there probably just gasped. I believe this was the first Saturday since June 2006 where I did not ride - and it was weird. But that isn't the only craziness going on lately. It's also raining and cold here in San Diego, which makes us go insane. You'd think a blizzard had hit from all the complaining people do when it rains, and we apparently can't drive worth a crap on wet roads. If global climate change causes more rain here (or god help us ice) - we're all going to die in highway accidents long before the rising ocean swallows us up.
But the strangeness of this week gets even deeper. I have two dates this week. Real, actual dates with women who apparently don't know yet how messed up I am. And on top of that, a friend and I were being hit on at a restaurant yesterday by some cute girls who were impressed with our "Ironman Finisher" shirts. This is a odd situation for me. To say that I don't like dating is an understatement - I'd rather run a marathon. And somehow, I'm worse at dating than I am at running - those of you who have seen me run might find that hard to believe. I don't seek out relationships, I'm actually very happy by myself. How does someone like that end up in this situation? Because the world is nuts.
I spent 14 months sequestered away from the world training for my big race. My days consisted of an early morning run, then driving to work, sitting in a cube by myself for 8 hours, driving to a bike/swim/run workout, home to make dinner, then straight to bed. I didn't do anything social. I missed my best friends birthday parties, I skipped labor day on the beach, and even spent 4th of July riding my bike up Mt. Palomar. I did everything I possibly could to avoid meeting someone, and was successful for over a year. But despite my best efforts, I met an interesting girl on a bike ride, and ended up hanging out with her for a while. It didn't work out, but I mention it because it directly relates to my current messed up situation. There are two reasons why my social calendar has filled up, neither of which make any damn sense:

1. I met girl #1 while I was not available. I was interested in the above mentioned bike ride girl, and didn't want to juggle multiple situations at once - I can't even handle one. But girl #1 was attracted to me because I was not available - had I been single when we met she would have had no interest at all.
   
2. Girl #2 I met at a party this weekend and she asked about my triathlon exploits. Most normal people think triathletes are insane, and so I try not to talk about it around them, but she just kept asking about Ironman. Did I find an Ironman groupie? She obviously doesn't yet know how ordinary triathletes really are, or how completely f'ed up our schedules are. Normal people don't understand "I can't go out Friday because I need to swim and then get up early on Saturday, and Sat is booked with a long bike ride and a nap, plus I need to run Sunday morning. Maybe we can hang out Sunday night? Oh, and it's going to be this way for the next 10 months."

Pretty f'ing weird, right? My training schedule is light right now so I have time to pursue these possibilities, but pretty soon that will change. Luckily, it won't take long for these ladies to realize that I'm completely nuts - and I can get back to normal. It's a lot to think about, but honestly the only thing on my mind is guilt for having not gone on a bike ride on Saturday. Is it possible that the world is sane, and I'm the crazy one? Nah...

Finding my True Self

I nearly drowned as a child. I have a pretty bad memory for details sometimes, but this I remember vividly. I was 13, and my family took a vacation to visit relatives in Florida. They were nice enough to teach me and my brothers how to water ski. We were in the intercoastal waterway on the east coast, so there weren't any waves.
After a couple of unsuccessful attempts to get up on the ski's, I was given the advice to "lean back more", which I did on the next attempt. I guess I leaned back too far - I fell over backwards, feet to the sky. Unfortunately, the ski handle wedged itself between my legs and I started being dragged upside down and backwards from the crotch by the boat. Of course, I didn't get a good breath before I went down - but it almost didn't matter. I was wearing a life vest, but it couldn't keep my head above water as the boat pulled me along. The people on the boat could see my body being dragged underwater, and assumed that I was still hanging on to the bar with my hands - so they kept going. I struggled to free myself, but the force of water rushing by at 20 MPH was colossal. I didn't really know what was going on in the boat - why they weren't stopping - but it was clear that they weren't. I realized that I was going to die.
It's not a feeling I think I can describe accurately. I've done scary things before: skydiving, walking on the edge of icy cliffs on Mt. Whitney, jumping over rattlesnakes, numerous cycling close calls, driving in Boston. All those things produce adrenaline, and the world slows down as the seconds stretch themselves out in your mind. Then the moment is over, and your heart is pounding and mind racing as you come to realize the details of what just occurred.
That's not how I felt on that day in Florida. I needed to breathe in, but I knew I couldn't. I felt claustrophobic and panicy at first. I knew exactly where I was and what was happening: I had a breath full of water in my lungs, I couldn't free myself from the rope, and I knew the boat wasn't stopping. I opened my eyes, and to this day I remember exactly what the muddled blue and green blur looked like. My panic turned to calm. I accepted that I was going to drown, and was actually starting to appreciate how beautiful the blue/green swirl was - and in some sick way glad I wasn't going to die in some other horrible, painful manner. Of course eventually the driver of the boat did cut the engine and my life vest pulled me up to the surface where I coughed and choked and vomited water out of my body. The whole thing probably only took 20 seconds, though in my mind it was much longer. I didn't lose consciousness and didn't need medical help. In reality, I probably wasn't very close to death by drowning - though I certainly believed it.
I like to think about that event when there are rough times in my life. I'm proud of how I dealt with the possibility of my own demise. I got past the initial panic and fear and shittyness of the situation and once I had exhausted my options for saving myself, I accepted my fate. I didn't scream, or cry, or pray - I kept my head. I haven't always handled myself in a way that I am proud of - and when that happens I try to remind myself of that day in the murky Florida swamp water. I try to re-capture the maturity and rationality I had in those moments.
I've thought about that a lot recently. I could use a good dose of rationality right now - and occasionally a booster of maturity wouldn't hurt either.

Cliff Diving

I dove off a cliff today - I'm not sure how it will work out. I spent the last month digging a hole, and somehow that resulted in me on the precipice of an abyss. Now it looks like I'm going to be falling for the next 10 months - hopefully I won't hit too many rocks on the way down.
I'm happy with my decision - I did it for the right reasons. I swallowed my pride, set my emotions aside, and dove in head first.
I'm determined to make it work. To fix the things I broke - not back to the way they were, or the way I imagined them to be, but to a new and better state.
All I need to do is to get used to falling.