Was it the TPS Reports ... ?

To quote the indomitable Lloyd Dobler, "I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that."

But I'm open to suggestions. That's because on November 19th I got laid off. I'm actually working until January 15th and I'll get a severance, but it still totally sucks.

Because even when you know it was completely out of your control (damn you, reorganization!), it starts to make you wonder about your worth in the working world.

But my response is, "Fuck that." Because I'm not defined by my job -- any of them. And becuase Liz, being the phenomenal planner that she is,  has already figured out our budget for the next 12 months and things don't look as doom-and-gloom as you might think.

We're going to pull Dash out of daycare, which sucks for him because he has lots of friends introducing him to things we planned to shield him from for at least 2 more years. But this way Liz won't have to stress out about Bakugan, whether he's eating his lunch, if he's behind on learning his ABCs or if one of us will make it in time to pick him up before the daily 6:30 pm deadline.

And the most important thing is that he and I will get some serious dude time -- and that is something that's long overdue for the Engel men. I'm sure we'll be ready to kill each other by the end of each week (day?), but I'm looking forward to it!

Now if I could just figure out what I want to be when I grow up....

And So It Begins -- Again

As I mentioned at the end of my Malibu Triathlon post, my next goal is to complete an entire triathlon. After extensive research -- I'm talking spreadsheets with location, distance, cost, etc. -- I decided on the Toyota Desert Sprint Triathlon in La Quinta, CA on March 7, 2010. It's a 500-meter swim, 14-mile bike ride and 3.1-mile run.

Having recently ridden 18 miles at Malibu, I'm not too concerned about the bike ride, and the house I grew up in had a swimming pool, so the water shouldn't be much of an issue. The running, however, has me a little concerned. About a dozen years ago, I was on my way to becoming an elite marathoner (OK, I never went farther than 4.5 miles, but I coulda been a contender!) but the constant pounding on my joints (namely, my hips) made me stop. But I recently bought a pretty good pair of running shoes, so I'm hoping I'll be OK.

I came up with a 16-week training program, thanks to the good people at BeginnerTriathlete.com, and if you're good at math, you'll know this means my training started today.

I've got a lot of nerve

With fall finally setting in, it has gotten downright cold lately in the evenings. And when you factor in the wind chill ... factor, it's pretty much gotten to the point where I need to start wearing cold-weather gear when I ride. Which I don't have. Nor do I really have extra cash lying around waiting to be spent on "convenience items" like full-fingered gloves or arm warmers. Needless to say, I haven't ridden in nearly two weeks.

But I'm usually not bothered by cold weather, and that's not really the reason I've been off the bike. Ever since I started riding back in June, every so often my left foot would start to go numb mid-ride. I know this is fairly common so I wasn't worried, and "shaking it out" would usually get the blood flowing again. About three weeks ago, I noticed my left big toe had that "pins and needles" feeling while I wasn't riding. And then my right thumb and forefinger starting being tingly, too.

Being a Jewish man, naturally my first thought was "tumor on my spine." But after talking to my neighbor (who is an avid mountain biker) and explaining my symptoms, he deduced I was most likely putting pressure on the nerve at the base of my right hand while riding (he didn't have a theory on the non-riding tingling in the left foot, though) and it was just irritated.

Since I've taken my unexpected break, I have noticed that my fingers and toes seem to be better. So I'll be referring to my neighbor as Dr. Jason from now on. At least until I go to my regular physician and he tells me it's something completely different.

In the meantime, recently I drove one of my (many) riding routes with my video camera, mostly just for shiggles. If you ever get even the slightest amount of motion sickness or you're already feeling a little queasy, then I recommend you do not watch this video. You'll definitely be really sad if you do. In fact, even if you've got an iron constitution, you might want to take some Dramaine or wear one of these.

8 miles @ 120 mph from Josh Engel on Vimeo.

Toe-tally committed

I've spent my entire life as a fan of the California Anaheim Los Angeles Angels major league baseball team, so it was only natural that I pass this unconditional and inexplicable love on to my son.  

I started planting the seed at an age when Dash was barely able to utter "Mama," let alone "2002 World Series Champions." Every time I had him on his changing table, I'd say "Vladimir. Guerrero." Repeatedly. It got to the point where all I'd say was, "Vladimir ...?" and Dash would respond with, "Guh-way-woh."  

In addition to knowing the name of my favorite player, Dash was also familiar with the Angels' color scheme, which might be related to the fact that we hooked him up with an Angels bib, t-shirts, hats and anything else Angels-related. So one day after Liz painted her toenails red, Dash called them "Guerrero toes," and the name stuck. Every time we take a trip to Angels Stadium, Liz puts on her Guerrero toes as a good-luck charm (they haven't lost a game that we've gone to).  

After Saturday night's heartbreaking (and frustrating) loss to the Yankees in Game 2 of the ALCS, I decided it was time to take things to a new level. Ya know, because my actions have a direct impact on the team's performance (don't they?). Needless to say, Dash was a little confused on Sunday when he looked at my feet and saw this:

Memorial Ride of Silence

As you all (all 4 of you) know, I only started riding regularly about 4 months ago. With my job being 40 miles away and family obligations, realistically the only available hours for me to ride are at night. I always wear a helmet, I have two bike lights (front and back) and my cycling shoes have reflective material on them. Whenever possible, I ride on dedicated bike paths,  in the bike lane or the sidewalk in the absence of a bike lane. 

And despite all my precautions and preparations, I ride with a little bit of fear. I only ride routes that I'm familiar with and aren't heavily traveled, but I know all it takes is one car. Or in the case of the Santa Clarita Valley, one monster truck. 

So I felt a sense of obligation when I heard about a Memorial Ride of Silence for Joe Novotny, a local cyclist who was killed by a drunk driver this past summer while riding along a popular cycling route here in the SCV. I don't know any other cyclists in town and I had no idea how many would show up, but I arrived at the designated sign-in area at 7:30 this morning. And I saw cyclists. A lot of them. My guess is around 200, but other estimates put it closer to 300. And I'm pretty sure most of us had never met Joe Novotny.

I always thought of cycling as a solitary sport for loners or those who don't like to be part of a team. Today I was both surprised and humbled by the turnout, and it became very clear to me that cycling is not a solitary endeavor by any means. It is, in fact, a tight knit community that rallies around its comrades. And today that community rode in unison -- for 12 miles in complete silence -- to honor the memory of a fallen member. 

Today I became part of a community, humbled by its commitment to its sport and moved by its dedication to its members.

Malibu Triathlon: The Real Deal

September 13

A co-worker of mine organized our team for the triathlon, and on Friday he sent out an e-mail to everyone that said, "Get a good night's sleep tonight, because tomorrow night you won't." Seeing as he is an accomplished triathlete and marathoner, I figured he knew what he was talking about. So naturally, I got 5 hours (but they were a solid 5 hours) of sleep on Friday night (thanks for the pre-7:00 am wake-up call, Dutch!). What follows is a timeline of my first taste of a triathlon....

4:30 am - alarm goes off
4:57 am - I pull out of the garage to start the 58-mile drive to Malibu
5:02 am - I stop at a gas station to get a bottle of water. I contemplate getting something to eat, but then remember the bathroom stalls at Zuma Beach do not have doors on them.
5:39 am - A calm but concerned e-mail chain starts amongst teammates, as we're all within a few miles of Zuma, but PCH is a virtual parking lot with no alternative
5:49 am - The e-mail exchange continues, getting increasingly less calm and more frantic
6:26 am - I take a chance and park at Malibu High School. I jump on my bike and ride the last 2 miles
6:43 am - Panic starts to set in as our swimmer and I can't find each other. I have her swim cap and transition area bracelet. She is helpless without these two items. Starting/transition area is an absolute madhouse.
6:48 am - We find each other, I give her the cap and bracelet and get my bike racked with about a minute to spare
7:15 am - The race starts! Our information packet says we're in Wave 8. By my math, the 5-minute intervals between waves put our swimmer in the water at about 7:50. She said her goal was 25 minutes, so I tell myself I need to be ready by 8:05 am.
7:51 am - As I'm doing some last-minute tire maintenance, our swimmer, soaking wet and out of breath, runs up and hands me the timing chip. "I'm not ready!" I scream, panicked and completely unprepared. Someone forgot to tell me that the intervals between waves were shorter than 5 minutes.
7:51-7:53 am - I sprint back to our corporate tent, put my shoes on and sprint back to the transition area. No Power Bar consumed, not a single stretch completed. I grab my bike and start a fast walk to the bike mount area.
7:53 am - I'm clipped in and riding in my first triathlon!
8:56 am - I'm off the bike and walking back into the transition area
8:57 am - I look at my Apple iPhone and am shocked when Runkeeper tells me I did 18 miles in 63 minutes
8:58 am - I realize my legs want to fold in half, so I take a load off and continue sweating.


This experience far exceeded my expectations. Four months ago I was probably in the worst shape of my life, and I saw this as an opportunity to motivate and get my body moving again. Over the course of 101 days I went from someone who struggled to go 3 miles to someone who could ride 20 miles with energy to spare. I came up with a training plan, followed it fairly religiously and ended up blowing past both my "realistic" goal of 72 minutes and my "ideal" goal of 70 minutes.

While I was really happy with my performance, I was also really inspired by every person I saw competing. Nobody was judged -- young, old, fat, thin -- it didn't matter. Random people encouraged random people and even though it was technically a race, it didn't feel like a cutthroat competition. 

My one regret was that I was only taking part in one event, but that will change. My training will continue into 2010, but it will include swimming and running. Because in 2010, I'll be entering a triathlon as an individual competitor.

Malibu Triathlon Training: Week 14

Sept. 1 & Sept. 3
This was my second-to-last week of training for the Malibu Triathlon. My original training plan was to go 20 miles three times, but after going the full tri distance of 18 miles on Days 30 & 31 I knew that 20x3 would be too much.

Sept. 1
Having finally found an 18-mile loop that was both logical and relatively close to home, I decided to just stick with it. This ride was pretty uneventful, but I did manage to shave a few seconds off my pace and got it down to 4:15 -- 3 seconds faster than my last 18-miler and 6 seconds faster than the time before that.

Distance: 18.09 miles
Time: 1:16:55
Pace: 4:15




Sept. 3
As I mentioned, 18 miles seemed to be just about all my body could take on one day's rest, and even that was pushing it (are your quads supposed to constantly be sore?!). But according to my schedule, I only had 3-4 more training rides before the triathlon, and there was a training goal I wanted to hit: 20 miles. So despite cringing at the thought of another 18-mile ride in 3 days, I figured it was now or never. With some encouragement from Liz (who has been amazingly supportive throughout this whole process) and the thought of Miles telling Joel, "Every now and then, say 'What the fuck'" running through my head, I decided to go for it.

Instead of trying to come up with some new, crazy, convoluted route that would get me there, I just followed my normal 18-mile loop and took a few scenic detours along the way. By the time I rolled up the driveway and stopped Runkeeper, I was sure I had topped 20 miles. But when I looked and my Apple iPhone, it said I was actually a shade under 18 miles. And the worst part was that it had taken my 1:24:38 -- I felt like I had gone a little slower than usual, but I didn't think I was that far off my usual pace.

Feeling slightly dejected, I went into the house, reported my disappointment to Liz and logged on to the Runkeeper website to survey my ride. When I looked at the map, I realized what had happened: the GPS signal had gotten screwy at around Mile 14, evidenced by the straight line running from Mile 14 to Mile 17, which would've required me to ride over (or through) several buildings and cross two major streets at really odd angles.

I won't get too technical, but I was able to download the data from the website, import it into a different routing program and see that I had, in fact, ridden 19.95 miles! But hey, I'm calling it 20. I probably stopped the timer a second or so before I actually reached my driveway, and for the record, .05 miles is only 264 feet ... OK?!

Distance: 19.95 miles
Time: 1:24:38
Pace: 4:15

I Fell

I do stuff other than ride my bike.

Falling with Style from Josh Engel on Vimeo.

Malibu Triathlon Training: Day 32

August 30
I was on a business trip Thursday and Friday, and Saturday was Movie Night at the Engels', so I was rarin' and ready to go when Sunday rolled around. Since it had been 4 days since my last ride and the triathlon itself will not be taking place at my customary riding hour of 9:30 pm, I decided to take advantage of our Lazy Sunday and go for a ride during daylight hours.

So after everyone was up and about and had some time to drink a cup of coffee, I hit the road. At this point it was already around 10:30 and we've been in the throes of a mini heat wave lately, so I was pressing my luck by getting such a late start. Oh, and did I mention the Station Fire that had started to move toward us? I could smell the smoke when I walked out of the house, but I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity for a daytime ride.

It turns out jumping on your bike on an empty stomach (well, I had coffee in there) in late August with a brush fire blowing toward you isn't the most enjoyable way to spend a Sunday morning. I think I actually got confused by the ability to see my surroundings so well, and I took a wrong turn that cut my ride down by 2+ miles. I still ended up going a little over 15 miles, but I certainly wasn't setting the world -- wait for it -- on fire with my 4:23 pace. That's a little misleading though, because my pace for miles 1-14 was about 4:07. Once again it was Hells-borough Parkway that did me in, ruining my overall pace by bitch-slapping me with a split of 8:22 (ouch).


But in my defense, here's what I saw when I loaded The Weather Channel app on my (Apple) iPhone a few minutes after I got back home:

So it was hot. Really hot. Really flippin' hot. At least now I know why the streets were deserted when I was out sweating my ass off!

Malibu Triathlon Training: Week 12

August 24 & 26
This was a historic week for me, as I finally hit the triathlon distance of 18 miles. What's strange is that even though I've been slowly building up to this distance, my 18-mile rides have taken much more out of me than even the 16-mile rides I was doing in Week 11. I mean, I know it is 2 miles farther, but I've been surprised at how much more spent I feel at the end of my rides this week.
My times were a little slower than my previous rides -- and slower than I'd like them to be -- but just hitting that 18-mile goal is more important to me than hitting a time goal at this point. It's also getting to a point where the routes I'm coming up with are getting more and more ridiculous. In order to hit 18 miles while sticking relatively close to home (and well-lighted areas), my route follows this "pattern":

• 8 right turns
• 2 left turns
• 2 right turns
• 2 left turns
• 1 right turn
• 1 left turn
• 1 right turn
• 4 left turns

So that's 12 rights and 9 lefts. It's getting so confusing that I have to create the route in the morning and study it throughout the day so I can commit it to memory. In addition, I also pull it up on the computer at home and leave it up so Liz has at least some idea of where I'm going.
Here are the stats from my two 18-miles loops for the week:
August 24
Distance: 18.03 miles
Time: 1:18:34
Pace: 4:21
August 26
Distance: 18.02 miles
Time: 1:17:25
Pace: 4:18

Not too bad, and I even knocked 3 seconds off the pace (and more than a minute overall) the second time around.

Malibu Triathlon Training: Day 28

August 19

Despite mapping out my ride before I hit the road, I only ended up going 15.75 miles last time -- and that was including a couple of unplanned, minor sidestreet detours along the way (hey, we all need to catch our breath sometimes). So on this ride I was determined to top 16 miles.

I altered the route ever so slightly, skipping the turn at Fairview that dumped me off on McBean, which allowed me to continue through to Newhall Ranch Road and then to McBean, which would give me the extra bit of distance I needed to push me over the top.

I felt pretty good on this ride and I was fairly certain I would be celebrating another Personal Record for both distance and pace when I was done. But I got stuck behind a jogger right before the Newhall Ranch Road turnaround around mile 14 (we were both the sidewalk going in the opposite direction of traffic, so I couldn't really just jump onto the asphalt to pass him) and had to slow down for a hundred yards or so. I'm not saying this screwed up my entire ride, but it did take me out of my rhythm, so I'm sticking with that theory.

I ended up going 16.19 miles in 1:08:00, which comes out to a 4:12 pace. This was actually 2 seconds slower than my last ride, but I blame the jogger for that (not really). On the plus side, I was able to make it all the way up Hillsborough (that's a 6% grade, people! Right on the cusp of a steep climb) without a sidestreet rest, and that made it a memorable ride for me.

Malibu Triathlon Training: Day 27

August 17

The start of a new week means a new target distance. Since I'm riding at night, I try to keep my routes both close to home and in areas that either have sufficient bike trails/lanes or are relatively free of cars at that hour.

Planning out new routes that match the distance I need while meeting the above criteria is actually the most challenging part of this whole undertaking. After several unsuccessful attempts on my new friend Trail Guru, I finally found a 16-mile loop. All of my previous loops were just that --actual loops that followed a logical path -- but for this one I had to take what I could get. And I actually had to study the route and memorize all the turns and directions. I even had to include an out-and-back section in order to get to 16 miles.

For the first time since I started with these cycling shenanigans, I actually felt a big difference in the relatively modest(14%) increase in distance. And somewhere between miles 11 and 12, something strange happened. Well, nothing really happened, but I have no recollection of that 4-minute stretch. But I do remember snapping out of it -- whatever "it" was. I was in the industrial area of town and it was pretty much just me and the road; no cars, no pedestrians and really no sound other than the noises I was making. So maybe I found a perfect pedaling rhythm or got into a cadence that put me into some kind of trance, but either way it was weird.

Other than that, I had a good ride despite the fact that when all was said and done, Runkeeper informed me I had only gone 15.75 miles. But I did it at a 4:10 pace, which was a full 11 seconds faster than my last ride. I'm actually starting to be a little impressed with myself. That's OK ... right?!

Ode to Runkeeper*

I love sports, but the one sport that will always hold a special place for me is baseball. It was always my favorite sport to play growing up (probably because it's the one sport I excelled at) and even today I'll sit and watch a game on TV, regardless of who's playing.

But it's not just the action (yes, I use that term lightly when describing baseball) that appeals to me, it's the seemingly endless array of statistics that are kept: RBI, ERA, OBP, OPS, OPS+, SLG, BAbip, OWn%, RC/G. The list goes on and on, and I eat them up regardless of how ridiculous they are.

For example, OWn% is Offensive Winning Percentage, defined as: "The percentage of games a team with nine of this batter would win. Assumes average pitching and defense." I mean, come on. This is a meaningless and completely irrelevant stat, but I'll argue that Vladimir Guerrero's .684 OWn% makes him a first-ballot Hall of Famer until I'm blue (NOT Dodger Blue, though) in the face.

So when I started riding my bike in preparation for my part in the upcoming Malibu Triathlon, I was on the hunt for an iPhone app that would help me track my progress. I don't remember how (fate, maybe?), but for some reason I found Runkeeper and was instantly hooked. I could chart my time, distance, pace, mile splits AND see my elevation vs. speed on a graph?! Not only did Runkeeper fill my stats jones, it also worked great as a motivating tool, constantly pushing me to try and improve with each ride. And it was free.

So when I started getting screwy results (8.03 miles in 27 minutes??? WTF?!), saying I was frustrated would be understating it. Didn't they know I needed my Runkeeper fix to keep going? I gotta have my stats, man! Don't do this to me, not now! I even took my frustration out on Runkeeper via Twitter ... not my proudest moment, and I think that was my rock bottom.

Luckily, this was a temporary problem and deleting and reinstalling the app solved it (which apparently could have solved my problem much sooner if I was paying attention). Despite my bitching and whining when things weren't going right with Runkeeper, for a stats nerd like me, this app is a gift from the numbers gods.

* This is neither a sponsored nor solicited endorsement. It's just my way of showing my appreciation for the hard work that's put into this free app.

Malibu Triathlon Training: Week 11

August 11-15

After realizing I was off by a week with my distances and correcting it last week, I wanted to make sure this week I stayed true to my schedule. Which meant it was once again time for a new route that would cover a distance of 14 miles.

I played around with a site called TrailGuru, which has the functionality of Google Maps with a couple of minor tweaks to make it more user friendly. I wanted to change things up a bit -- actually, I had to change things up a bit in order to get to 14 miles-- but there were some sections of previous routes I wanted to include, mostly because they had really wide sidewalks and/or separated bike paths.

Against my better judgement, I included a tour of the industrial park that I first rode through on Day 21. I wasn't thrilled about it, but it allowed me to include almost the entire length of the best bike path I had come across up to this point, and it also included a very short, very, very nasty uphill climb right before the 10-mile mark.

On the second night following this route, everything was great until I got about 2/3 of the way through the industrial park. As I came up on a T-intersection, I noticed some random dude in the middle of the crosswalk, slowly pacing back and forth. At 10:45 pm. On a Thursday. Something didn't quite add up here, but I wasn't about to stop and ask, "Hey man, how's it going? So I'm guessing you're either waiting for a ride -- in the middle of the street -- or you're a lookout for the burglary taking place in one of these dark warehouses." So I stared straight ahead, wondering if I'd be able to outrun him and his cronies as they chased me down in their getaway car. I was thankful for that little boost of adrenaline, because that tiny hill I mentioned felt a lot like trying to ride my bike up a wall. To borrow a term from the Fat Cyclist, I shifted down into the Granny Gear and slooooooowly reached the top. But apparently I was fast enough to outrun the bad guys.

Other highlights from the week:

• 2 "cat calls" on two different occasions from random idiots driving by, who seem to get a charge out of screaming out their window, I'm guessing in an attempt to scare me. It does startle me, but I don't think it has the intended effect of making me ride into a bush. My reply to the first cat call was to scream right back, and the second elicited a scream of "DOUUCHEBAAAAG!!!" from me.
• Got screamed at by a hawk, had 2 flybys from owls and got cut off on Hell Hill by a coyote, who responsibly looked both ways while crossing the street.
• I've been using clipless pedals since I started riding the hybrid, which is something I'm still getting used to. One night, as I rolled up the driveway to finish my ride, I completely forgot to unclip and didn't think about it until it was too late, i.e., I had come to a complete stop. I fell over like those goats that pass out when they get scared. No harm done, but pretty embarassing nonetheless. I'm just glad that stupid motorcycle trailer wasn't there to mock me.

And the vitals:

August 11

Distance: 13.86 miles

Time: 1:04:43

Pace: 4:27

August 13

Distance: 14.12 miles

Time: 1:01:24

Pace: 4:21

August 15

Distance: 14.10 miles

Time: 1:01:16

Pace: 4:20

So far, after a week of riding the hybrid, I've knocked 31 seconds off the pace of my last ride on the mountain bike. I'm fairly certain I won't be knocking off 30 seconds every week, but if I can knock 20 seconds off over the course of the next four weeks, I'll hit my goal.

Four weeks from today!

Malibu Triathlon Training: Day 23

August 9
In the week prior, I missed my weekly target distance. I didn't miss by much -- a 9.69-mile average when the goal was 10 -- so I wanted to make sure I didn't miss the mark two weeks in a row. But so far, I had gone 10.32 and 11.87 miles. Again, no math whiz am I, but that doesn't average out to 12 miles per ride.

So I knew that for this ride, I needed to add a little bit more distance in order to bring my average up and get closer to my target. With that in mind, I followed the same Frankenstein route as last time out, but thanks to a broken water main Hell Hill was closed. This actually worked out perfectly, because the added distance of going up and around the section of street that was closed added nearly another mile onto the route.

You'd think with an extra mile tacked on, my total time would go up. And it did, but by less than a minute. "But Josh," you're probably thinking, "That's, like, freeway speed to cover nearly a mile in less than 60 seconds."

But I didn't jump in my car and drive that last bit, I was definitely on a bike. It's just that the bike I was on wasn't mine. See, back when I first started training, my friend Nicole told me she has a 17.5" hybrid I could borrow if I wanted it. Not only was this bike a more appropriate size for me, but it also has thin road tires and is lighter than my bike. When you throw in the low-rolling resistance you get with the road tires, you've got yourself a lighter, faster and more efficient bike.

In other words, I was now a low-flying missile. Despite the fact that the gears needed to be adjusted (something I didn't find out until after I was several miles in), I shaved 15 seconds off my average pace, from 4:51 to 4:36. This was huge for me, because it meant I was right back in the thick of things in my self-imposed challenge to average a 4-minute mile on race day.

Malibu Triathlon Training: Day 22

August 5

As race day approaches, I continue to incrementally increase my mileage and will eventually get to 20 miles the week before the event. After my most recent ride, I realized that I wasn't supposed to be at 10 miles, I was actually scheduled to hit 12 miles. So I had some catching up to do and needed to come up with yet another new route.

Which brings my to my current dilemma. I'm sure you've noticed by now that I do pretty much all my riding at night, which I really like because I basically have the sidewalks and bike paths to myself (except for the occasional raccoon and rabid dog, of course). But it also means that it's dark, and I'm not about to get rammed by some redneck in a monster truck whose blind spot starts at the 6-foot-high mark, so I try to restrict my riding to routes that aren't major traffic arteries and don't have bike or pedestrian paths. And I've found that even some of the bike paths aren't lighted, so I either have to know where I'm going or go on faith. And I don't have a lot of faith in my own sense of direction, so the last thing I want to do is get lost somewhere I'm not familiar with and end up being eaten by coyotes and discovered 4 days later by some kid walking to school -- and sadly, I was just blocks away from a familiar intersection.

But I digress. The bottom line is that I needed a new, longer loop, and I needed to stick to what I knew. So I Frankensteined it -- I took bits and pieces of all my prior rides and pieced together a nice 12-mile loop that featured some uphill, some downhill and everything in between (which I guess would actually just be flat land). I tried my best to avoid any backtracking, and save for a little over a mile-and-a-half, I was successful. This may not sound all that impressive, but I was able to work this out using an area that's only 17 square miles that met all my criteria (lighted, bike paths, no monster truck incidents, no gruesome discoveries by tweeners).

And the end result was pretty good: another Personal Record for distance (somehow came up short of 12 miles, with 11.87) at a decent pace (4:51). I've come to terms with the fact that I'm probably not going to hit my goal of 4-minute miles in the triathlon, but it's not going to stop me from trying ... I'm just not going to beat myself up over it.

Malibu Triathlon Training: Day 21

August 3

The goal of my previous ride was to break the 10-mile barrier for the first time, which I thought I would be able to do with a couple of "sidestreet pitstops" thrown into the mix. And I'll actually never know, since Runkeeper and I were in a big fight, and the only record of the ride was a manually created map. I came close, logging 9.87 miles; I'm no math whiz, but 9.87 isn't 10, so I was determined to hit double digits this time.

Not being a fan of the out-and-back (did I mention that already?), I decided to try something a little different this time. When I hit my usual turnaround point, instead of actually heading back in the direction I came from, I took a left and followed the street around a fun downhill hairpin turn into an industrial section of Valencia.

Industrial areas are good places to ride at night, because most industries are shut down for the day and there's very little traffic. The downside is that there's very little traffic, meaning there's very little light on the road, and there are virtually no street lights. In other words, I had the road pretty much to myself (minus a few suspicous-looking parked cars with fogged-up windows -- don't worry, I averted my eyes), but I had a hard time seeing where I was actually going. And riding your bike on darkened streets when you're not familiar with the road you're on can be nerveracking. Check that ... it is nerveracking. Have I mentioned that I don't all that well at night? Yeah, so I had that going for me, too. In other words, I was pretty sure I was going to die on this ride, either from hitting a pothole, getting clocked by a car door opened by a lustful teenager, or simply by unknowingly riding my bike right off the edge of the Earth.

As I cautiously pedaled along, I thought to myself, "Self, I may die tonight, but I have a goal to reach ... so flat Earth be damned!" or something to that effect. Either way, I kept pressing forward, hoping at the very least for it to be painless if I was going to meet my demise.

Somehow, I did manage to make it out of the industral area in one piece and eventually found my way home again. When all was said and done, I had broken the 10-mile barrier (10.32 miles) in 48:44 (4:43 pace). At least, I'm assuming that was an accurate time, as once again Runkeeper and I got one step closer to breaking up -- for real this time. For the second ride in a row (and third time in five) the GPS tracking was all jacked up. But I didn't care too much, because not only had I finally hit the 10-mile mark, I was celebrating my 2-month training anniversary. So happy anniversary to me and the streets, sidewalks and bike paths of Valencia!

Malibu Triathlon Training: Day 20

July 31

For this ride I took the same route as last time, but I added a couple sidestreet pitstops, just to increase the distance a little bit in an effort to hit the 10-mile mark (milestone!). The ride itself was fairly vanilla and I don't remember too much about it. Mostly, as you've probably noticed, because I didn't get a good GPS signal and lost my ride metrics.

Now I know this isn't about recording ride metrics and seeing how awesome I am. First of all, I'm not that awesome. And B, I am a huge stats dork* and I really like looking at the metrics and comparing my performance over time.

So I was (understandably?) pissed when I got home and looked at the deformed map Runkeeper spit out at me on its website. The only thing it did (possibly) record properly was my total time, which was 46:07. Over the 9.87-mile course, that works out to a 4:40 pace, which would be a new personal best. Unfortunately, the Croation judge didn't sign off on the accuracy of the Runkeeper time clock, so my record was stricken from the PRB (Personal Record Book).

While I lost my splits, actual recorded distance and calories burned stats, I was still able to track my ride thanks to another website, MapMyRide.com. The layout and map aren't quite as easy to read as Runkeeper's, but they'll do in a pinch. I just hope ths doesn't happen again, otherwise I'm going to have a beef with Runkeeper and its stupid free iPhone app self!

* I once organized and executed a full, 162-game Strat-O-Matic baseball season with 3 other guys one summer. If you're not familiar with Strat-O-Matic, think of it as the Dungeons & Dragons of sports. And then think about it: 162 games over the course of roughly 90 days. Yeah, it's sports. But it's still somewhat pathetic, no?

Malibu Triathlon Training: Day 19

July 29
While I was feeling the love of the Crazy 8's/Curly Q loop, I needed to step up my distance if I wanted to stay on pace with my training schedule. With just a little more than 6 weeks until the Triathlon, I didn't want to divert from the plan and find myself gasping for air at Mile 16 on the day of the event.

Since I had pretty much maxed out on what I could do with the Curly Q route, I decided it was time for yet another new map. For this one I took my very first training route (which was a shade under 4 miles) and added an extension. As you can see, this new route includes an out-and-back section, which I've said I don't really like. But since the entire Triathlon ride is exactly that, I thought it might be a good idea to at least work a few out-and-back rides into the mix. Also, I discovered one of Valencia's cyclist-friendly trails -- paved and nice and wide -- running all the way along Newhall Ranch Road out to Interstate 5.

I've driven along this route dozens of times, but I never realized it has a slight incline. Mostly because I don't have to pedal my car to make it go. It's a fairly gradual climb, but there's just enough uphill to make your legs wonder what the hell they did to deserve this drawn-out punishment.

Luckily, after the turn around at just over the 4-mile mark, the annoying incline becomes a smooth and relaxing downhill run. My splits for Miles 2-7 were all within 23 seconds of each other, which means ... well, I don't really know what it means. But I do know my pace for that stretch was about 4:23, and I like that. It means I've still got a long way to go to hit my target pace (4:00), but it shows signs of improvement.

The final tally wasn't quite as impressive, but I raised the bar for total distance (9.5 miles) and was able to maintain a 4:45 pace. In general, I was happy that I had passed the halfway point in terms of distance, but by the same token I had ONLY passed the halfway point. It's going to be an interesting 6 weeks as I try to more than double my current distance in time for the Triathlon!

Malibu Triathlon Training: Day 17-18

July 23 / July 25

I was really liking the variety of my newly created Curly Q route, so I repeated it for my next two rides. The GPS tracking for Runkeeper (the iPhone app I use to track my rides) got all jacked up on July 23, so I can't really address my splits and overall times, but there's definitely something worth mentioning from that particular ride.

I live in Valencia, CA, which was obliterated in Season 6 of the show 24. It's also where Seasons 1-3 of Weeds were filmed, so you may have seen where I live but just didn't know it. Anyway, Valencia is a suburb of Los Angeles, and despite the fact that the city and surrounding area is home to more than 160,000 residents, there's still a lot of undeveloped land and the wildlife that comes with it.

So on the night of July 23, I was on another Curly Q ride. This route follows McBean to its end, then turns onto a street that is residential on one side and undistrubed wilderness on the other (Copper Hill Drive). So I'm following Holy Crap Hill up and around, and I see two mid-sized dogs going for a walk -- by themselves. It looked like they were just a friendly couple out enjoying a leisurely stroll on this warm summer evening.

I didn't want to scare this canine couple and watch helplessly as they got spooked and ran right into traffic. So I slowed down and approached cautiously, figuring I'd give them the "kissy" sound to let them know I came in peace. As I approached, I noticed they froze and were in the "fight or flight" stance. So I slowed to a crawl, and this is when I came to a startling realization.

These weren't dogs at all -- they were giant raccoons! And they looked pissed. As we locked eyes, I thought to myself, "You were a Boy Scout. What do you do when you encounter wild raccoons?" Before I could even answer, one of the masked marauders jumped into the bushes and the other one took off running.

Now I found myself unwillingly chasing a raccoon while yelling, "Dude, just jump to the left. Stop running!" The combination of adrenaline and the fact that I'm five times bigger meant I was gaining on this critter fast. And now I was worried about me darting into traffic to avoid a confrontation. Thankfully, before I veered hard to the right (which, as you know, I'm prone to doing) and found myself playing chicken with oncoming traffic, the raccoon spotted a small tree on the left and made a desperate leap, grabbing onto it as I flew by.

Unfortunately, I'll never know what effect the added surge of adrenaline had, since the aforementioned iPhone app went a little cuckoo and didn't record my ride properly. But I do know that my ride on July 21, this one and my subsequent ride on July 25 were identical distances. And the time difference between the rides on the 21st and 25th was 3 seconds, so I'm guessing this ride was on par with the other two (seeing what a consistent emmer effer I am). And with a pace of 4:41, I once again raised the bar for myself and had a good "raccoons while riding" story.

Malibu Triathlon Training: Day 16

July 21

After last week's solid showing (if I may say so myself), it was time to increase my distance once again (in sticking to my Training Plan). For this week the goal was to hit the 9-mile mark three times, which I figured wouldn't be a problem based on the 8.2 miles I made on my last ride.

I found the Crazy 8's route to be a good, non-repeating mix of ascents, descents and a variety of nice scenery (I'll post some pictures to prove it. Someday). So in order to reach the 9-mie threshold, I basically just added a curly-q toward the end of the ride, which would come up right after my assualt on Hell Hill. The best part of it was that I would actually get a little bit of downhill action on HH, which would be a nice change of pace!

As this ride progressed, I appeared to be on a record pace (I was riding at around 4:25 seconds per mile, which would be more than 20 seconds faster than my previous best). And then I ran into the ugliest, most evil curly-q you can imagine. OK, that might be overstating it a bit (I heard there are some pretty nasty curly-q's in some of the rougher areas of Dublin), but I wasn't really prepared. I faced what looked like an 85-degree incline -- I'm pretty sure I saw a parked car whose wheels weren't curbed sliding past me -- and it was a nasty slap in the face as I slooooowwwwly approached the 8-mile mark up this bastard. I think I even got passed by a 300-pound guy who was walking up the hill ... backwards.

Once I reached the top of this cruel joke, I was able to reap the rewards and made up some time with a nice downhill jaunt, which looped around and dropped my back off at the top of Hell Hill. I had built up some momentum and I was almost halfway up the final hill before I really had to start churning again.

All told, I made it home in one piece (woo-hoo! that's like 7 rides in a row with no road rash) and ended up with, once again, a new personal best for distance (9.14 miles) and pace (4:41/mile). I was way off my goal pace, but I had completed a ride that went beyond the traithlon's halfway point. Nice.

Malibu Triathlon Training: Days 13-15

July 13, 15, 19

My next three rides were identical in distance and nearly identical in total time/pace. I devised a new route to keep pace with my training plan, which called for a week of 7.5-mile rides. Despite the fact that the actual triathlon I'll be riding in is an "out-and-back" route, I'm not a huge fan of those types of loops. I don't know why. I'm just not. Whether that will come back to bite me in the ass or not is unknown, but so far I've managed to keep things interesting by keeping my routes "up-and-around" (as opposed to "out-and-back," for those who like the obvious pointed out to them).

One look at the map tells you why I call this particular loop the Crazy 8's (I know the apostrophe doesn't belong there, it just looks better ... OK?!). This one takes me up and around the two major streets I frequent on two wheels, but instead of turning off of McBean Parkway, I take it all the way to where it ends (I think I would fall off the face of the Earth if I kept going, but I'm not gonna find out) and then take a left onto Copper Hill Drive (AKA Holy Crap Hill).

Following Copper Hill on a slight incline, I loop back down to Decoro, which starts as a nice, long downhill boost and then quickly becomes Hell Hill. All told, the route is anywhere from 7.6 to 8.2 miles, depending on how many side-street "pit stops" (actually, they're not really stops, just flat terrain that allows me to douse some water on the flames in my lungs) I make along the way.

For reference purposes, here are the vitals from July 13 and July 15:

July 13

Distance: 7.60 miles

Time: 37:27

Avg. Pace: 4:56

Avg. Speed: 12.18 mph

July 15

Distance: 7.98 miles

Time: 39:18

Avg. Pace: 4:55

Avg. Speed: 12.18 mph

Look at what a consistent motherfucker I am! Two difference distances, but average pace is nearly identical and speed is identical. I don't know if there's a market for incredibly consistent bike riding skills, but I'm the Tiger Woods of that shit.

Anyway, something happened on July 19. I don't know why, I don't know how. I just know that I went farther and faster than I ever had up to this point: 8.22 miles in 39 minutes. That worked out to a pace of 4:45, a 10-second improvement over my ride on July 15. It could have been due to having more energy that night, or a more consistent cadence in my pedaling, or maybe it was just being more familiar with the route and knowing when to conserve my energy. Either way, it was another big step for me on the way to 18 miles!

Malibu Triathlon Training: Day 12

July 9

My last ride was a bit of a fluke. I was intending to only go 6 miles, which is what my training plan told me to do (my training plan is very persuasive), but I somehow ended up breaking the 7-mile barrier and pissing off my quads and lungs. So today it was time to get back to reality with a more solidified plan and a simple route.

Tonight's route was a variation of the loop I took on the night of The Crash. Instead of getting my ass kicked by Holy Crap Hill, I only gave it a taste of my misery and turned onto the first street after the initial ascent. And I have to say, it felt really good to say, "Ha! Go fuck yourself!" to a plot of land. I just wish I had yelled it at the top of my lungs instead of mumbling it to myself. But I'm classy like that.

I ran into a little bit of trouble going up Dickason Drive, mostly because this was only my second time riding up this street and I wasn't sure what to expect. But I didn't slow down too much between Miles 4 and 5, and I was able to tackle Hell Hill (with my usual side-street pit stops) and was almost perfectly accurate on my routing: 6.02 miles.

While this was a pretty uneventful ride -- no wrong turns, no rabid dogs, no losing battles with gravity -- it was noteworthy, as I once again lowered my pace all the way down to 4:50. I've still got a long way to go to hit my goal (4:00-minute miles) but this was a big step in the right direction.

Malibu Triathlon Training: Day 11: Cujo

July 6
After my stint on the DL and a cautious ride on my first day back, I decided that Day 11 was a day to step it up and get back on track. There's something motivational about looking at that countdown clock over there on the right and I felt that, despite logging one of my best rides last time out, I needed to make up for the days I missed.

With that in mind, I plotted out a new route that was basically a shortened version of the loop I followed on The Crash ride, minus the unrelenting ascent of Holy Crap Hill. As usual, I flew down the first leg of the loop, which features a fun 5% downgrade that lets me approach 40 mph, depending on how Knievel-ish I'm feeling (still feeling a little shaky from The Crash, I topped out at 31 mph on this night). At the bottom of the hill, I turned the afterburners off and continued to the large intersection that features 30-second red lights. Whether it was impatience or my subconscious trying to avoid the memory of The Crash, I decided that I didn't want to wait for a green light, so I turned up the main drag and decided to improvise a little bit.

I went up about a mile, took a left, and headed toward HCH (that's Holy Crap Hill). But this time, I was attacking it from the top side, so at least I knew my lungs weren't going to explode tonight. In fact, I was gonna make HCH my bitch, because I know how gravity works and that going downhill is a lot easier than going uphill. Bitch!

So anyway, I'm going about my business and starting my descent of Holy Crap Hill, and I'm (sadly) feeling pretty good about myself after outsmarting the topography of the Earth. Then, about halfway down the hill, I glance up ahead and see a couple walking their dog. "No problem," I think to myself. "This sidewalk is nice and wide, and it's meant to be shared by pedestrians and bikes."

As a courtesy, I slowed down as I approached the dog walkers so I won't startle anyone. The next thing I know, as I'm passing them and the dog jumps up at me. Now, the details are a little sketchy because of the glare from a streetlight above, but that dog was either frothing at the mouth, baring razor-sharp teeth and glaring at me with blood-red eyes or merely nipping at my heels. I'm not 100% sure which. Needless to say, I was pissed. I had gone as far to the right as I was able, and this a-hole didn't even have the decency to shorten his devil dog's leash for 2 seconds. So naturally, as I sped away I looked back and yelled, "Control your dog. Jesus!" And this was significant. Not because I gave that dude a piece of my mind, but because I was able to look behind me and then look forward again -- without crashing!

The next 2 miles were a long, relatively flat section of wide road, so I picked up the pace and was able to score two sub-5 minutes splits (which is pretty good, considering my average pace overall is right around the 5-minute/mile mark). Unfortunately, my triumph was short lived, because reality has a way of bitch slapping you when you're not paying attention. Despite the fact that I taught Holy Crap Hill a lesson in gravity just 15 minutes earlier, I forgot that what goes up must come down. Or, in my case, what rides down the hill at 31 mph much ride UP the hill. And probably a lot more slowly.

That's right -- HCH was about to be introduced to the new sheriff in town, Hiilsborough Parkway (heretofore known as "Hellsborough," of course). While HCH features an elevation change of 160 vertical feet, Hellsborough touts a variation of 185 vertical feet. To add injury to insult, I had already surpassed the 6-mile mark at this point, meaning I had already set a new personal record for distance, and I still had another mile to go that started to look like it was straight uphill.

Needless to say, my quadriceps were pissed when I told them what was about to happen. And my lungs weren't exactly thrilled, either. I got about 1/3 of the way up the hill when said muscles and organs decided to organize and went on strike. I was in no position to argue, so I stopped. God dammit, I stopped! Oh, the humanity!

After convincing my quads and lungs to agree to my terms, we all decided it was best for everyone if we just moved on. So I did. And eventually, I made it to the top of the hill, back onto my street and up the driveway, where my body and I celebrated our longest ride to date (7.16 miles).