K-town Kamrades, still kruising

Another hot day in the city, muggier than its been, the hot wind blowing like heat coming off the griddle. I lazed this morning, hanging with Ryderman as he showed me his Spanish workbook which he completed after his first year of Kindergarten Spanish. Next year in Spanish Immersion, when 30% of the curriculum is taught in Spanish, he will learn the language quickly-- and awake the sleeping Spanish in my brain. A very useful second language for sure. When I finally mounted my steed, it was already 9:30 and route in took on a different feeling. All the paper sellers had packed up and gone. I was delighted to see Lester back at his post in K-town. For the past many years I've ridden by Lester, always sitting under a big tree on the corner of K and Harrison. But this year I haven't seen him until just last week. They put up a fence around his vacant lot, so now he perches across the street, on the north side. Must be his spot. He just sits there. A new hand car wash in the block brings some new life to the area. The guys who work there are now giving me the nod, recognizing me as I ride by each way every day. I see the welders in the Alan Fabricating shop further down the road a ways, they always give me the high sign as I ride past. Today they weren't making sparks fly but were sauntering down the sidewalk to the Maxwell Street 24 hour Original Polish stand on Independence. No one was moving very fast. The security guard who always sits in his red Taurus in front of the Elgin Dairy plant was sitting in a chair in the sidewalk today, always with a big wave and occasional toot on the horn. Further down the road yet, past California to the Mission, the big Rasta man has moved from his spot on the north to a new place against the building on the south. Into the shade. Always he greets me with "hey ya doc!" as I ride past. It occurs to me that I must be a familiar sight to dozens of folks on this route. Just folks. Working folks, street people, homeless shelter denizens, all looking out for me as I ride past. My K-town Kamrades. My guardians.

Sweltering sizzle summertime saddle slump

Hot time, summer in the city, back of my neck getting burnt and gritty.... is that how those lyrics go? Suddenly its summer. Pushing 90 now and it is yet only May. Could be in for a hot one this year-- global warming or this is just a hot year, who knows. Though, of course, it was not hot over the long Memorial Day weekend, the long anticipated pool opening did not happen until mid-day Sunday, and of course we were there. Water was too cold to get in, but the deck was nice and we got our feet wet. The place to be in Oak Park is Rhem pool, and last night afterwork, when I rode my bike straight to the pool from UIC to meet up with Ryder and Karen, it was jamming. Nothing like 88 degrees to bring out the crowd. But the cool rainy weather on Saturday was perfect for running long and run long I did. Saint Stephen and I joined up with the ChiA-Deads at Waterfall Glen and had a great run. The ChiAs did distance varying from 4 to 7 miles, or even one loop, but Steven and I did two loops, 19 miles. And it was tough on this old fat guy, for sure. The last time I ran 19 miles was October 26, 2003 in the Marine Corps Marathon. That would put me somewhere exiting the Mall and heading over the bridge back to Arlington. It was my last marathon. I am still getting ready for number 21. Denver, Oct 14 here I come. Considering its May and I now have a 19 mile run under my belt, this holds great promise for me finishing Denver on my feet. Our run at WFG set the tone. The first loop, counter clockwise, was a breeze. We did the first 3 or so miles with the ChiAs 30 minutes continuous running. Then we got on the program, walked 2 minutes, then ran 8. We continued with this pattern all the way around, finishing the first 9.5 mile loop in 1:50. When we chugged in, we found the ChiAs relaxing and we chatted briefly before they were off. The 2nd loop, which we did clockwise, was a character building experience. We continued 8:2 without difficulty until mile 6 or so, then I really started to struggle, and also experience shooting pain in my right calf. My old trigger point was flaring up on me. Amazing how I could go through catastrophic leg injury, rehabilitate myself and retrain my running poster, only to find the old pain, like an unwelcome phantom, returning. If I circularized my knees it started to go off on me, cramping up, but if I pretended to kick a ball in front of me, the pain vanished and I plodded on. The only problem with the kicking is that it stressed my knee caps, so I could only do it for a few steps at a time. We quickly passed through 3 minutes of walking until I cried UNCLE and we dialed it back to 5:5. Each running interval brought us closer and closer to the finish and just when I started to flag, it was time to walk. This approach enabled me to finish the 19 and not suffer too much. Of course had I needed to run 20 instead, I surely would have died. After we ran and sat cooling off, it began to rain. Perfect timing. I was trashed for the day. I took a nap, much to Ryder's consternation, and then we went for a big shopping adventure-- to COSTCO. woo-hoo. No gardening that day.

There is nothing so sacred as the garden. I sink m spade into the dirt and turn over the earth. The black humus redolent with richness and the promise of a bontiful yield. The old timbers which framed the garden had to go. I spent the rest of the weekend back bent shovel in hand and constructed a new bed, no ready for planting. tomatoes, beans, squash, basil, egg plant (Japenese variety), red peppers, melrose peppers, habeneros, carrots, beets.... the earth awaits. The flower garden in front is growing nicely, the impatients taking off-- named for the impatient gardener. Perinneals filling in, but annuals carry the day-- yes, it is true, I have been accused of being an impatient gardener, yet I persist. shovel man. ditch digger. I am so glad to have my strength. Using the hand mower is a great thing, stretches the hamstrings after a run or long bike ride, makes no noise, uses no gas and cuts the grass just fine-- after three or four passes. My goal is to not use the power mower again this year. I used it the first time I mowed the lawn for the season, but no more! It is so much more contemplative to not hear the lawn mower. But with the neighbors and their power leaf blowers and mowers and trimmers, it is hardly quiet. At least I can hear myself think.

I was so tired yesterday it was all I could do to submit my animal protocol renewal. Today, the discussion on the manuscript and letter of intent for BOR editor in chief. The ride into day with 6 of us was spirited as Cliff pushed the pace. I am still tired, but coming around.

Change in the weather and death in the streets

Just in time for the long weekend the weather has taken the predicted turn for the cooler. Winds are blowing off the lake and it was nearly 40 degrees cooler for the ride in this morning than when I rode home last night. Wow, talk about windy! As soon as I got onto Polk and was pummeled by the hot gusty wind, I thought that I should ride on over the El and take my bike home on the train. Then I saw the light turn green on Damen and instinctly bent to the task. I made the light at Ogden and was on my way. Fortunately it was gusty, not a constant harsh wind, so I hunkered down, peddled in a low gear and pushed my way on home. I was spent when I made across Oak Park to Chez Hales. Today, the wind was in our face again, but quite a refreshing breeze and it was a pleasure to peddle liesurely at 15-16 mph with the boys. Long weekend and am looking forward to an early departure today.

Saint Stephen and I will be running 19 miles at Water Fall Glen tomorrow with the ChiA-deads. A great way to start the weekend for sure. I have big plans for the garden, finishing the spading, and working in the compost and planting. I extended the raised bed another 6 feet taking over ever more of the yard with garden. The grass terror Mirabel has not destroyed my newly planted grass yet and for the first time in 3 years (since she arrived) we have a full lawn full of grass in the back yard. My sanctuary. The Buddha pond and newly planted vinca minor framing the end of the deck with the small concrete bench at the foot of the locust tree-- creating a very peaceful place to contemplate. With the new hamock in place and the outdoor fireplace installed, it promises to be a very pleasant summer in the backyard.

Last Friday when Paul and I rode to work, we neared the corner of Cicero on Harrison and came upon a dozen or more police and fire command vehicles. The street was wet and the smell of smoke was in the air. Many folks were standing in the front of their houses in they night clothes with very somber and shocked expressions. It was just after 6:30 and we learned that at 5:00 AM there had been a fire in one of the houses. Seven escaped but two people perished in the smoke. Big Mamma and her grandson 20 year old Spencer died. Each day when I've ridden past the 4900 block on Harrison I take a contemplative breath and look at the now boarded up house. It is quiet as it ever was on this block. The smell of the Golden Hearth bakery fills the air with the delicious aroma of fresh baked bread-- when the wind is right. On really hot days when the wind is not right, the Odor from the Flood Brothers waste haulers just across the road from these homes is so strong it can make you gag. It is a curious environment. Really nice brownstones with neat yards and shady porches for a one block stretch, surrounded by industrial crush of west Harrison, Cicero and flanked by a middle school. When ever I am riding home and cross Cicero the environment changes and it starts to feel welcoming. These homes make Austin feel like a gateway to civilization. I often see 8 or 10 folks crowded onto these porches. I never realized until this happened that it is more likely than not most of those folks all live in that one house. This sure puts things into a new perspective.

Hot wind blowing in the windy city today

Tom Skilling has predicted a high temp of 92 today. And its May 24. Wow. We are on a streak of really hot ones, yet it doesn't quite feel like summer YET. If only it was going to be this hot over the Memorial Day weekend, the pool would open on schedule and then it would feel like summer. But Tom predicts a big drop in the mercury and forecasts a cool, cloudy, possibly rainy holiday weekend. Such is the way of the world. Like my old running buddy Dan Danileson said "the weather is the weather." And is not going to stop Saint Stephen and me from running two loops at Water Fall Glen on Saturday. In fact, being cooler will be great for the run, just not for the pool. Ryder will be the one who is the most disappointed if the weather prevents us from initiating the pool season on time. Only 90 some days to enjoy it, afterall. We are getting psyched for our up and coming journey west to Fort Robbinson, NE for the Held family reunion, camping in Yellowstone, then a brief visit back home in Colorado to visit the folks and see my family. Traci is poised to move to Virginia, leaving her mountain home behind. For the same reason I left. To get a job in academia. And her grandkids live there, not to mention her husband is working there now. All is good for the move, except leaving Colorado behind. I mourn the day I left, over 20 years ago, to move to the Midwest. Though I really do love living in Oak Park and enjoy life at the foot of lake Michigan and the city, it pales by comparison and I vow to return to live out the rest of my days in Colorado and just hope I can do so before I retire.

Hot wind describes riding to work and back home these days. I connected with Paul at Kedzie and we really suffered riding west. He has a hybrid and rides upright, like a sail in the wind. I sure do appreciate my drops, but last night rode up in soladarity. We just peddled along and chatted and voila, soon were in the land of tree lined streets. The contrast between west Chicago and Oak Park is rather dramatic. Cliff calls our route the big ugly. I call it the way to work. Though once we get west of Cicero, it starts to feel pretty relaxed. Riding west on Congress with rush hour heading home trqaffic is a bit tense. Though we cover the distance much faster than the cars. Last night when we rounded the bend at Kostner back onto Harrison heading west, the big wind roared across the empty lot. woosh, like a big hot heavy hand pushing us back. Of course riding in this morning the wind was in my face. One of the really remarkable things about the wind in Chicago, no matter which way you go, it always seems to be in your face.... Fortunately though during March, April and early May the wind was off the lake making it cooler and faster for the ride home. The summer winds from the west make us earn our way back home to OP, melting the pounds away. Approaching 475miles for the year. I need to get some long rides in.

Flying under the radar

Such a gorgeous day here in Chicago today-- it promises to approach 90 later in the afternoon, so it is a good thing I ride to work at 6:30. Today, as I continue to ponder the question, "to carb, or not to carb" I left the house at 6:28, running a bit late, but determined to catch the boys at the park before they rode off into the sunrise. I was about 4 blocks down Lexington when I realized I was not sporting my fanny pack which meant no keys, no billfold etc. So back I went to get it. Columbus and Mirabel greeted me as I darted in to retrieve my pack. I really humped it all the way across Oak Park to Harrison and Austin, the west end of Columbus park (the park where I found the little lost kitten who was named in honor of his finding place). The boys were gone. I cranked all the way and could see the four of them about a mile ahead. As I closed on them, near Cicero, I got trapped by the light and they escaped. I rode past the newspaper people at Laramie, the woman who says "where ever body at?" when I ride alone, today said "they gone" and indeed they were. The newspaper guy on Kostner at the Ike with his booming milfulous voice yelled "icecream icecream you can catch icecream." Bob Hakes has an old timey bell on his bike and its ring prompted our friend at Kostner to dub us collectively as icecream, a question when Hakes does not ride, an affirmation when he does. Finally, I rounded the corner back onto Harrison, which now runs south of the Ike and is one way all the way to Kedzie. I rode the group down in a few more blocks. They were surprised to see me, but even more surprised that I was not there. We have an absolute 5 minute rule and I was at least 2 minutes back so I appreciated that they rode off with out me. Hakes was leading the pack and we traveled at a good 20 mph for a few blocks, then slowed to let the rest of the crew catch us. Paul and I are commuters, he rides to Metra in downtown Chicago and I ride to UIC. Bob, Moe and Bill, and sometimes Cliff ride for the ride. They are all retired and do this for liesure. It is great to have the company, and it would be fun to join them for breakfast sometime. So todays ride was faster than usual in the morning with the group and much hotter than its been. We are looking at our 6th day in a row at 80 or above, quite a warm May. Bike miles to work this season >450 (since St Patrick's Day).

To carb or not to carb? so far, just cutting out pasta, potatoes, pizza, reducing my bread in take, I have dropped nearly 8 pounds in three weeks. And it is a very easy diet. I've used low fat diets for many years and have lost hundreds of pounds and gained them all back. I need a new philosophy, not a diet, and this really seems to work. Karen is doing the induction reduction and dropping weight like crazy, as if she needed to! no doubt about my need to do so. And even though I do Pilates twice a week, ride my bike for more than an hour a day, run, workout and walk a lot, I have not dropped much weight in the past couple of years. Now I finally am below the weight I was at when I suffered the stress fracture in Fall 2004 that I am still recovering from. Nothing like 6 weeks on crutches and two years of not running to put on the weight.

May 22, 2007 blogging to work

Let the blogs begin.... as I ride my bike to work each day through the west side of Chicago, many thoughts embrace the visual and sensory impressions which fly my way. I thought perhaps it would be useful to journal this experience. Avid journal writer for 33 years now, I have filled over 40 volumes with my illegible script. I have written thousands of emails and spent way too much time communicating instead of doing what I am suppose to be doing-- what ever that might be-- working on that manuscript is my current procrastination. So why not blog all this. On line journal entries like an open sore-- no, more like open source. Perhaps feedback will be enlightening. Whose fooling who, no one ever reads these things, right? Considering the vast number of blogs written daily, this forum will be as personal and private, but more legible, than journaling in ink. And journaling is journeying. Its not where you go but the act of going there that is the essence.