It was exacerbated by the fact that Lo was throwing up all week last week. Like, literally every night she’d vomit the entire contents of her stomach all over Amanda or I. But mostly Amanda. And she had maybe one good night of sleep, which meant we (read: Amanda) had pretty much zero nights of good sleep. (Hell, I was just standing around at a stupid tradeshow all week. Whee!)

So we thought there’s no way she’ll rally for Bend. Let’s just stay in and sew all weekend. But Thursday night she ate and slept and woke up like a million bucks. So we decided we’d go.

The first night in Bend was great. She was a delight. The folks we stayed with adored her and brought out all these old toys. There was much laughing and cooing. The first day at the race was super-fun, too.

But the second night, the wheels just fucking came off. Up every hour. Crying intensely. Waking up screeching. Very little sleep. Then we lost our car keys, which threw race prep and costume prep out the window. Expectations? Yeah, I don’t even know why we bother with them.

I’m typically a pretty organized and hup-hup sort of person, especially away from home. Keep things dialed in, have a plan, get places early, fold my clothes, do the dishes.

There was none of that this weekend. Laurel was all-consuming for Amanda and I, especially in combination with the races and costumes. Help with dishes? Ha! I’m trying to keep my daughter from destroying your living room. Help with dinner? Please, I’m making a bottle and trying to stop her from screeching like a banshee so maybe we can get some sleep tonight. Our hosts were the most gracious and kind folks EVER, and Jimmy and Annie were incredibly helpful. We could not be more lucky.

Still, I felt oddly helpless. And this quote (found by Amanda) about parenting explains a lot, I think:

I was having a conversation with a friend who had recently become a parent, and she reminded me of something I had forgotten about since my daughter was born. She was describing this what-have-I-done feeling – I just got everything perfect in my life, and then I went and messed it all up by having a baby. I don’t feel that way anymore, but the thought certainly crossed my mind a few times at the beginning. Eventually you just fall in love and forget about everything else, but it’s not a very comfortable transition. I compare the process to becoming a vampire, your old self dies in a sad and painful way, but then you come out the other side with immortality, super strength and a taste for human blood. At least that’s how it was for me. At any rate, it’s complicated.

This season with cyclocross has been watching the old me die, and the new me emerge. I like the new me. I’m way more focused. There’s way less drama. I am tireless. I will go toward that light in a race. I am fearless with my efforts. I will dig deeper and push harder than I ever knew I could.

The old me? All the stuff surrounding racing and a job and our relationship and travel? It would’ve been easier. We really did have things all figured out. That’s the part that’s hard: knowing that the other stuff could’ve been so much easier without Laurel.

But then we wouldn’t have Laurel. And on balance, that would’ve been a tragedy.

From CodingHorror.com

The post from Coding Horror reminds me very much about the way I related parenthood to a friend a while back. When I coached swimming, dealing with beginners forced me to break down into tiny segments all the things I’d learned and repeated a bajillion times. Pushing off the wall, streamlining, arm and shoulder position, calculating intervals. Teaching all those little things helps me re-learn them, and do them right myself. Having a baby makes me a better human because I get to re-learn everything. I get to consciously re-experience things that I learned, hard-wired, and forgot during those first four years.

Paul and I staged together near the 2/3s mark, and I was on his wheel coming out of the sand pile that acted as the biggest, dumbest choke point ever. (There were people literally minutes in front by the time the middle part of the herd made it over the pile. Neat!)

Then on this really simple part of the course, I randomly shot off course and got tied up in the tape. So fucking dumb.

I went from the middle of the herd to the back. I managed to pass a lot of people after that, but woooo! I got 114th out of 185.

I did a lot of good things after that. Jumping out of corners and putting in long efforts, riding smart. But the course was dry and fast, and there weren’t any places to make up time.

I dunno. I was pissed because despite staging near-ish the back, I had a good first lap until my brain shut off. Ugh. Coulda shoulda woulda. Story of this season.

And next weekend is Bend, and I have no idea what that course will be like, the conditions or anything. I need to remember to talk to Jimmy about what the course was like.

This season has not been good to me. Feeling like I need a good result soon so I can go into the off-season excited. Or maybe some enthusiasm from the home front, instead of it being this awful thing that requires a “favor.”

Yeah. Low point of the season? Right here. When I start thinking that it’d be less hassle and emotional effort to just skip a race, that’s probably not a good thing.

Mud, cowbells, cheering, beer, friends.

I raced pretty bad both days, but Saturday I was in the middle of a cold. Can’t recommend that — it was like breathing through a straw.

Sunday I felt better and I raced better, if a bit over-cautious. I want to work on my cornering in the next two weeks — those were the places that had me losing time.

Anyway. We hung out with some new friends, got muddy, got a little drunk, picked up a few new scars, and had a blast.

Did incline press and butterflies. That’s what really killed me. The weight I used for flies was hilariously light — 20 lbs. I didn’t struggle, but I sure felt it.

Incline press was better: 8 reps with 115 and I didn’t struggle too much there either. Nice!

Oh sure, there might be a little hiking too. But generally speaking, I expect rest. And naps.

And I think that’s the trick to staying motivated and energetic when re-starting a workout program: keep your eye on the rest periods. When you start to run out of energy, determine if you can push through to the rest period.

And then really rest. Do nothing. Put your feet up. Crash. Get intimate with your couch.

That’s one thing I’ll do wrong this weekend — in all likelihood, it will not be that restful. So I may need to take off the early part of next week to recharge. We’ll see.

Definitely will be adding a few minutes of core work to my morning routine, or I foresee a bad week of hobbling around.

Amanda and I have been swimming for the past two months or so. Maybe even a little more. It’s been great to swim, and while I can’t say I’ve lost any weight, it’s made me feel a little better about things.

I’ve also been doing the occasional trip to the gym. Mostly I’ve been doing that to keep my shoulders from being injured from all the swimming. It seems to’ve worked thus far.

Today, I got back on my bike for the first time in a while. I may try to commute by bike a few times in the next few weeks. We’ll see.

Three things have been going really poorly lately. My food choices are attrocious. I’ve been tossing and turning at night way more than in the past. And work’s been stressful. Possibly more stressful than normal. I’m going to try to get the food thing on track this week too — little changes mostly — and hope that the work thing works itself out.

As for the sleep problems? I don’t know what I can do. Probably my first step should be to cut waaaay the hell back on caffeine. I’ll start there today and see how it goes. Maybe I’ll try the doctor at the end of the month if things don’t sort themselves out.

Yeah. That should work out REALLY well. I’ll make three major lifestyle changes in one week. I feel EXTREMELY confident that they’ll all stick. Ha!

The “Meet the Team” rides start mostly downtown. But none of the regular team rides start remotely near our house in deep SE. And with just one car, I can’t monopolize it on the weekends to drive to Hillsboro or Beavertron or whereever. And unless I want to add 20 miles to every group ride I go on (I don’t), I’m out of luck.

A while back, I shot an email to the OBRA list. I got one semi-legit reply, which was for a vegan, organic triathlon team. Which is somewhat ironic because I’ve been considering getting back into the pool and focusing on triathlon to help strip off some upper-body weight.

Finding a team in cycling has been one of the most frustrating aspects of the sport. In swimming, which is my native sport, teams fall all over themselves to make new swimmers welcome. They encourage them to come out, try to be social, organize car pools, the whole shebang.

In cycling, the indifference to new members is shocking to me. You ask, and you get shrugs. You volunteer, and you get blown-off.

I had one outstanding experience when I first started with Veloshop, in that the Calver brothers (now with GSC United way the hell out in Beaverton) were some of the most welcoming, nice, encouraging people I’d ever met. They have a passion for the sport that completely infects new riders. But then, a few months later, the damn team kicked them off. I couldn’t even tell you why, because it was so bizarre.

Anyway, Mike off-handedly mentioned that he might put together a CycleOne kit to promote his cycling coach biz around the Portland area. I told him I’d wear it. And though it might not be a “team” in the strictest sense, I would certainly use it as an excuse to organize rides out here in SE.

Ultimately, I came to some (hopefully) healthy resolutions about work. With at least a plan, it should make work-life more stable, or at least easier to not get whipped around and knocked off the bike.

One thing that gives me confidence is that I have a good cycling coach. I know that he is pulling for me, and that he will help me find a way to use cycling as a positive force in my life.

I sent him a whiny email, and he said replied along the lines of “Don’t beat yourself up. Get out there when you can and enjoy every pedal stroke and breath of fresh air.”

Great guy, that Mike Manning.

Sent from my iPhone

I noticed in VeloNews this morning that a company named “American Beef” will take over from Saunier Duval as the title sponsor for the Scott cycling team. Weirdly, it is NOT the Cattleman’s Beef Association of “It’s what’s for dinner fame.” Rather, American Beef is from Chihuahua, Mexico.

Anyway. Watching the final TT this morning for the Tour de France. Thus far, Cadel Evans is kinda stinking it up, but my man from Garmin-Chipotle, Christian Vande Velde, is flying.

In fact, it looks like Garmin-Chipotle placed two riders in the top 5, with Vande Velde and David Millar.

Anyway, there was an excellent article in the print edition of the newest Bicycling Magazine about Garmin-Chipotle, especially about how with their aggressive anti-doping stance that they will likely win a little less — that they will be merely okay. And the spin that Jonathan Vaughters put on it was brilliant:

To agree not to dope, to agree to never let that enter the context of teh team is to agree to fail sometimes. To agree to let your fans down sometimes is to agree to the fallibility of the human body.” He said the wins — honest wins — would be that much sweeter, the celebrations that much richer when you truly knew the “preciousness of winning.”