Friday, December 31, 2010

2010: The Year By Numbers

31 December 2010

I stole this idea from Jack, and we're both stealing it from Harper's Index.

*****

Minimum number of cups of coffee consumed in 2010: 208

Estimated number of miles traveled in 2010 by bike to buy coffee beans: 250

Approximate number of salads consumed in 2010: 261

Estimated pounds of tomatoes brought home from Cherry Grove Organic Farm: 50

Rank of dried strawberries, coffee beans, candy, and black-and-white cookies, among favorite foods to bring home from New York City: 1, 2, 3, 4

*****

Months spent as a laboratory technician at Penn since 1996: 168

Months worked in the last lab at Penn: 17.75

Most months spent in one lab at Penn: 69

Number of laboratories worked in at Penn since 1996: 6

Months into 2010 before the nightmares about work started: 3

Months into 2010 before the decision to leave became final: 5

Months spent passively looking for a new job: 3

Hours spent actively looking for a new job: 0.5

Job interviews in 2010: 1

Days between the interview and the official offer: 17

Seconds between the official offer and the acceptance, via email: 30

Minutes between officially accepting the new job and officially resigning from the old one: 5

Weeks given as notice: 3

Days that my supervisor had been expecting my resignation: 0

Working days between my resignation and my replacement's interview: 2

Days I spent training my replacement: 5

Time spent missing having to spend three hours per day traveling in order to cut mouse tails and get yelled at: 0

Seconds saved each day by not commuting to Philadelphia: 7200

Approximate amount saved, per year, by not working in Philadelphia: $5,000

Ratio of my new salary to my old one: 0.987:1

Days into the new job that I decided it was tied for first in being the best lab I'd ever worked in: 6

Weeks since that decision: 10

Number of times I've doubted that decision: 0

Number of times I've doubted my scientific ability: 77

Number of times I've told myself to get over it: 77

*****

Rank, of bad things that happened in 2010, of losing Joe McBride: 1

Minimum amount raised by Princeton Free Wheelers and friends in his memory: $1700

*****

Number of athletic injuries in 2010: 2

Ratio of back x-rays to MRIs: 1:1

Number of days in physical therapy in 2010: 18

Ratio of time spent, per day, commuting to Penn to time spent on physical therapy: 2:1

Number of days after my first physical therapy visit before I could straighten my left leg while lying on my back in the morning: 17

Number of days before I could straighten my leg in the evening: 1

Number of weeks off the bike when the injury was at its worst: 1

Number of days that I was forbidden by my doctor to ride my road bike: 0

Amount of time I am permitted by my doctor to carry 20 liters of water 40 feet; touch my toes from a standing position; or do sit-ups: 0; 0; and 0

Number of times since October that I have carried 20 liters of water 40 feet: 2

*****

Ratio of Cleio years to Burnaby years: 3.45:1

Ratio of Cleio ears to Burnaby ears: 1:1

Number of cats at Cherry Grove Farm: 2

Ratio of cats owned by Rebecca and Kevin to cats owned by me and Jack: 2:1

Ratio of cats owned by me and Jack to cats owned by Dale and Sean: 2:1

Ratio of Cleio's daily medications to daily dental treats: 1:2

Ratio of Cleio's age to the age of Jack's youngest students: 1.13

New cats in Phyllis' house: 1

New dogs in Cheryl's house: 2

Minimum number of dogs owned by people I work with: 6

*****

Number of times I used Miss Piggy's granny gear: 2

Number of times I needed to use Miss Piggy's granny gear: 1

Percentage of Miss Piggy's price covered by my unused Penn vacation day pay: 88%

Rank, in order of riding preference, of Kermit, Miss Piggy, and Gonzo: 1, 2, 3

Rank, from heaviest to lightest, of Kermit, Miss Piggy, and Gonzo: 2, 3, 1

Pairs of pedals replaced in 2010: 3

Number of bikes re-outfitted for commuting: 1

Number of new lights on Gonzo for commuting: 4

Number of commutes on Gonzo in 2010: 0

Minimum number of planned weekly bike commutes before darkness and injury set in: 1

Ratio of centuries ridden in 2009 to centuries ridden in 2010: 2:1

Official Free Wheeler rides led in 2010: 13

*****

Days spent in Albuquerque, New Mexico: 4

Days spent glued to Sean, Dale, Kevin, and Rebecca in Albuquerque: 4

Days spent in North Creek, New York: 4

Number of friends I spent those 4 days with: 16

Days spent biking in northern New Jersey in August: 1

Nights spent in the Poconos after biking in northern New Jersey: 1

Days spent in Saint John's, Newfoundland: 4

Days in Newfoundland in which we snagged Kevin and drove along the coast: 1

*****

Number of photos taken in 2010 with my pocket camera: 594

Number of blog posts in 2010: 47

*****

Ratio of cookies baked for tonight's New Year's Eve party at Terry's to number of confirmed guests: 4.57

Reservoir Pig

31 December 2010

Seems I forgot to post the pictures from Michael Heffler's September 26 Montana ride.

It was the first real test of Miss Piggy's prowess. Several years ago, overtrained, I attempted to climb Montana Road. Like a lot of other people who try it, I hit the wall about three quarters of the way up and had to stop.

This time, with 29-32 gearing, I made it all the way up. At the top, Tom and I stood in the shade and compared notes on our Cannondale Synapses.

Here's Miss Piggy at Merrill Creek Reservoir:

Here's the reservoir:





I don't even remember where I took these pictures, but the farm is somewhere between Asbury and Bloomsbury.



I remember that I started climbing Asbury Road ahead of Tom. Not even halfway up he caught up to me. As he passed, I said, "I can match you gear for gear and I still can't beat you."

"Nope!" he said and spun on by.

This is the koi pond at Koppe's deli in Bloomsbury:




Here's the bridge over the Delaware River at Frenchtown, where we started and ended the ride:


Friday, December 24, 2010

MRI Part II, Christmas Eve Coffee, and Leftover Snapshots

from Wikipedia: on the left is all you guys and on the right is me



24 December 2010

An MRI image from Wikipedia. Mine isn't as bad as this.


About a week ago I saw my MRI pictures. Way cool! But I have a herniated disc at L5-S1.

I've been going to a sports medicine doctor and a physical therapist for a couple of weeks now. They twist, pull, pop, and bend, and now I've gained back the half inch in height that I'd apparently lost when I first arrived at their office.

The therapist looked at my MRI results and said he was amazed at my mobility. "Most people who come in here with this as bad as yours can't even walk." Such is the Dumb Jock Double Standard: My physical fitness aids greatly in healing from wounds I've inflicted upon myself in my attempts to be physically fit.

I've been doing physical therapy twice a day at home. The therapist keeps adding to the routine; it's taking about 40 minutes these days. It's working. Today I put on my shoes without gritting my teeth. Twice I touched my toes without bending my legs. I can sleep on my back again.

My piriformis muscle, which has been in spasm due to the inflammation around the disc, and which was pressing on my sciatic nerve, seems to be calming down. I can almost feel my pinkie toe.

Throughout all of this I've been able to ride my road bike. There's no way I'm ready for mountain biking (I'm not even allowed to do sit-ups or vertical leg presses yet), but as long as it's above freezing, I can take Miss Piggy into the Sourlands (the granny gear is there just in case).

Today, Christmas Eve, Mighty Mike, Cheryl, and I ventured out a little after noon for a trip to Lambertville. We had Rojos in mind. Mike digs their espresso. I wanted to get another bag of beans to bring to the lab; my mission to prove to the Italian post-doc that good coffee can be had in New Jersey seems to be working.

It was barely above freezing, with a good 15 mph breeze out of the northwest. My aerodynamics were somewhat hindered by the felt antlers that I'd affixed to my helmet with rubber bands. In my jacket pocket I had a set for Cheryl.

"Give me your helmet," I said. She did, without asking what I was up to.

Richie, whom we used to ride with years ago, and who is the area's only cobbler, had called Cheryl earlier in the day. Out of wrapping paper and stuck in the store, he asked her to bring him some.

So there we were, the two of us with antlered helmets (mine with annoying little bells) and Mike with a roll of wrapping paper shoved down the back of his jacket, courier style. A car honked at us on Franklin Corner. Cheryl and I both said, "We're going to get a lot of that."

Richie looked up and said, "Do you know how silly you look?" More than normal, I suppose he meant. I took the opportunity to use a rubber band to fix my left antler, which had been broken by the wind.

Between the stop at the store and the wind holding us back, it was 2:00 by the time we got to the top of Rocktown Road. With Mike's 4:00 curfew looming, he said, "Let's go straight in."

We don't go down Rocktown's hill very often. By the time we reached the bottom, I had armsicles. Cheryl complained of boobsicles. My fingers were freezing, but no matter: we were just blocks away from Rojo's.

Which was closed.

Mike, who had peeled off across from Baker's Treat to scope out a mirror in the store across the street, met us halfway down Union and did the u-turn. We headed back to Church, where a pedestrian complimented us on our antlers.

Baker's Treat was closed.

"Who knew it would be so hard to get coffee in Lambertville on Christmas Eve?" I mused.

Cheryl wasn't worried. If LTC didn't pan out, there was always Starbucks across the bridge, or Dunkin' Donuts across from Starbucks.

LTC, our old hangout before Rojo's happened, was open. Inside we got our java and more compliments on our headgear. One customer even asked me about wind resistance. On our way out, she asked, "You came this far just for coffee?"

I smiled. "We go a lot farther than this for coffee."

Cheryl decided that, in order to get home as quickly as possible, we should take Franklin Road. I haven't even looked at that hill, let alone climbed it, in many years. I still had leftover Hill Fear.

One glance at that wall of asphalt and I said to Cheryl, "I hate you." Mike laughed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It's short," he said.

Cheryl said, "You shot up that thing like it wasn't there." (Thank you, Miss Piggy!)

I said, "I felt it." I need to remember to stretch at the break until I'm healed.

The funny thing is, my leg never bothers me after a ride. In fact, I'm looser and pain-free for many hours, even the next day. I was worried that my doctor was going to ground me for the rest of the year, but he didn't. He said I could do whatever doesn't hurt. My physical therapist wasn't surprised when I told him that, last Sunday, after an hour on my trainer at home, I could lie on my back and finally straighten my leg.

Meanwhile, back on the road, the temperature was falling as the 3:00 winter sun cast a deep yellow light. We made it back to Cheryl's by 4:00, with enough time and light left for Mighty Mike to take this picture:



*****
I found a stash of photos I never posted.

Here's a pair from my second trip to Baker's Treat at the end of November:


Chris had taken a bite of his dog by the time I got to it.

Rocktown Road on our way home:


The tracks under the bridge on Delaware Avenue in Pennington:



Here is a bunch of pictures of Mount Airy that I took on Joe Bucci's Halloween ride on October 30. Joe was giving a tour of the graveyard so I had a lot of time to play around.






This is a picture I took on October 23 at the Brooklyn Farmer's Market. We went with Kevin and Rebecca. I was three days into the worst of my sciatica at that point. My left foot was full of pins and needles every time I stepped on it. I had plenty of naproxen on hand, though, and I gave some of it to Rebecca when she sprained her ankle on our way to the car in Jersey City. None of this has anything to do with the picture below.


This is a cell phone photo of an albino squirrel that I saw in the parking lot outside of the gym in Hamilton.


Here's Cherry Grove Organic Farm's flower bed towards the end of the growing season:


Going back even further in time, here are some cell phone pictures from my last days as a commuter in Philadelphia.

This is Reading Terminal Market. Although I'd worked at Penn for 14 years, I'd never bothered to hop the trolley and go to the market after work. One week before my last day, I finally did it.

Market East station has elaborate tile work by the tracks:



Now, some pictures from late September, as the reality of leaving Penn for good was finally hitting me.

This is Spruce Street at 36th. I was standing outside of the lab, waiting to meet a friend for lunch. The building on the left is the Quad, the oldest dormitory on campus. The tower in the distance is still the Quad. To the distant right is Superblock, the three high-rise dormitory towers. On the right is graduate housing.

Compare the above with an evening shot of one of Princeton's dorms in the rain. The thing is, no matter the weather nor time of day, this walkway is always empty.


Finally, here's dear old Trenton train station on an early September morning. I'd write that I'm no longer out and about at sunrise, but there's the matter of my 7 a.m. physical therapy appointments. The rate I'm healing, though, I should be back in bed in no time.


Tuesday, December 14, 2010

MRI

14 December 2010

Yesterday I had an MRI on my lower back. I'll take that over a head and neck MRI any day. While the latter sounded like rejected pieces of an unfinished Philip Glass composition (and it didn't help that my head was in a cage), the former sounded like the rhythm track of any number of techno songs one might hear in Spin class. At one point I actually giggled.

It sounded something like this:

Tok tok tok!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrr.
Urrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Pddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd.

Omomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomom
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Omomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomom
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Omomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomom

Omomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomom
Dreidl dreidl dreidl dreidl omomomomomomomomomomomomomomom
Omomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomomdreidlomomom

Yupyupyupyupyupyupyupyupyupyupyupyupyupyupyupyupyupyupyupyupyup


Of course, I went web surfing to find audio tracks.

These are pretty tame.

Here's a whole page of samples. Click on the very last one. Yupyupyupyupyup...

The second one on that page could easily be from the middle of Fatboy Slim's "Gangster Tripping." The third and sixth ones are exactly the timing that drives me crazy. I'm sure I heard something like it when my head was being examined. The fifth one? Philip Glass.

I found, and I'm not making this up, a downloadable, 22-minute audio recording of a complete brain scan. I wish I'd heard this before my own whole brain scan in January 2009. Seriously. Go download it and have a listen. Don't forget to turn the volume up to maximum, and have someone pin your head down while you listen.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Slugsicles!

Despite a spasming piriformis muscle pressing on my sciatic nerve, I've been given clearance by my sports medicine doctor to do whatever doesn't hurt. Cycling doesn't hurt.

Saturday will be sunny-ish with not much wind, so let's meet at the Hopewell YMCA parking lot on Main Street in Pennington, across from Ingleside Avenue, at 9:30 a.m.

Depending on how we feel, we'll do 35-43 miles. Pace-pushers are not welcome.

Extra-milers can meet me at my house for a 9:00 a.m. start.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Pictures from the Charity Ride for Joe McBride

20 November 2010

Thank you, all of you, who contributed and came out to last week's Charity Ride for Joe McBride. So far we've raised around $1400 and the checks are still coming in.

Thanks go to Ira Saltiel for leading a group up the river to Frenchtown and back, like Joe used to do, and to Bill Cooper and John Smolenyak for helping me lead the rest of the crowd up the ridge and down to Upper Black Eddy in a version of one of Joe's other favorite routes.

Kudos to Dale and Sean Ireland, who were our California contingent, holding a west coast version of the ride.

I was too busy corralling twenty riders to take pictures, but Glenn Cantor and John Smolenyak stepped up. Below are some of the images they sent me.

Glenn took this group photo before we headed out:


Here we are milling about as people sign in (Glenn):


More milling about (John):


Jim enters the Green Sergeants covered bridge (Glenn):

The outbound "big hill," Sanford Road (Glenn):


Our rest stop was at the Homestead General Store in Upper Black Eddy, PA. The store is just across the river from Milford, NJ, where Joe liked to stop at the deli. I guess it was earlier this year, or late last year, when I convinced him to follow me across the river for a better rest stop. He resisted at first, but I managed to get him to agree to it, just this once, to try it. When we got to the store, he was amazed. "Why didn't you tell me about this place?" he demanded.

John took this picture of us behind the general store:

Homestead roasts their own coffee beans. Regular readers of this blog will remember that I'm fond of buying a bag and stuffing it into my jersey pocket for the ride home. John, having heard me rave about the coffee here, crammed a bag into his backpack. Cheryl, though, had no pockets, and, with my prodding, got creative about her storage options (Glenn):

Nice rack, Cher.

I made her remove her falsies for the ride home, though. She handed her boobs over to Chris, who had a handlebar pack big enough to hold them.

Glenn took a picture of this maple tree. Everywhere the maples were yellow. It reminded me of a Thanksgiving ride that Cheryl, Joe, and I did a few years ago. We wound up in the Quakerbridge Mall parking lot, just because it was there and empty. Yellow maple leaves were all over the ground that day. Cheryl took a picture of me and Joe, in matching DeRosa jerseys, in his driveway. Ever since that day, whenever I see yellow maple leaves, I think of that ride.

Glenn got this excellent shot of us walking our bikes back across the bridge to Milford:

While we were stuffing our faces and our jerseys, Dale and Sean were getting ready for their ride. Dale sent me this as I was finishing my coffee:

Sean reports the following conversation from their ride, fully capturing the spirit of our departed friend:

Dale: How come my handlebars feel further to reach since the last time I rode?

Sean: You've aged and shrunk into an old lady since then.

Dale: Fuck you!

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Charity Ride for Joe McBride, Saturday, 13 November

This Saturday's Hill Slug ride will be in honor of Joe McBride.

We will ride one of Joe McBride's favorite routes along the Delaware River and the ridge above Frenchtown. Joe didn't like big hills, so we'll stay away from the nasty ones. There will be one rest stop in Upper Black Eddy, PA, and an additional, optional, stop in Sergeantsville. The route is 50 miles.

The ride starts at 9 a.m. Meet in the CVS parking lot off of Route 29 in Lambertville. Wet roads cancel the ride.

Please bring a check made out to the American Diabetes Association or the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.

Please contact me at perpetualheadwinds at gmail dot com with any questions.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Eulogy



photo by Ira Salteil

7 November 2010

On Friday we lost one of our strongest, steadiest, funniest, most cynical, and most sarcastic riders to a freak accident that should happen to nobody, the least of all Joe McBride.

There's a hole where he used to be, and the best we can do is fill it with memories.

He was fond of long rides and steady riders, less so of big hills and squirrely cyclists.

He was the Big half of the Joes.

He wore red.

He gave me his old De Rosa jerseys.

He brought me gummy lobsters from Cape Cod. Twice.

He taught me how to ride flat centuries.

He loved going to Belmar and riding along the Delaware River.

He didn't like long rest stops.

He didn't like big groups.

He was a good listener.

He was smart and insightful.

He had certain gestures.

photo by Ira Salteil

click on the picture and you'll see

He had certain phrases:

If he said, "Fuck you," it meant he liked you.

"You know I love you like a brother, but..."

"JESUSsaves!" whenever we passed a church.

"Fuck you."

He called Cheryl "the Hub of the Club."

When Mike M pulled us for miles and miles, he called him "Mighty Mike," and it stuck.

Under all that rough exterior was a man dedicated to the sanity of others. He could spot a person in trouble from a mile away.

He showed up in my blog time and time again:

Joe knows Drew and Murdo; I figure this out because he’s cursing at them already. (4/27/08)

Cheryl was talking about her family, about her being one of a large handful of kids. Big Joe asked, “Are you the youngest?” “Yep. I’m the baby.” “I could tell.” “Fuck you!” Oof! She got him! The first “fuck you” of the day and rather than coming from Joe it hit him smack-dab in his dignity. He grumbled about it for the rest of the morning. (7/11/08)

Big Joe fired off a “fuck you” or two before anyone could beat him to it. (7/11/08)

Mike M. notices that we haven’t had a “Fuck you” from Big Joe yet. The lapse is quickly remedied. (8/8/08)

Big Joe laid down the rules right away: we were to ride in a pace line and there would be no stopping for pictures. This elicited the first FU of the day by yours truly. There was no pace line and there were pictures. (8/10/08)

We weren't much further along, but at least we were on a shady road, when his tire went "Pfffftttt!" again. More F-bombs, and someone wondered if he'd gone over his F-bomb quota. He pulled out a boot -- a four-inch long section of old tire -- and placed it between the gash and a new inner tube, courtesy of Little Joe. Tom said, "You get one more time, Joe, then we're leaving you." I said, "I thought our love for Joe was unconditional." Jack H. looked at me, paused, and said, "Heat getting to you?" (7/24/10)

After reading my blog, Big Joe declared that I'm a bigger wise-ass than he is. I didn't think that was possible. Takes one to know one, Joe. (8/10/08)

We miss you already.