Plans

"The best laid plans of mice and men, often go awry." -Robert Burns

I know this all too well from my 24 years of misadventures on this planet, and know that no matter how much we plan, sometimes God thinks it's fun to mess with us. It's character building, as I repeatedly told my rowers last year when any number of things went wrong. So today, on many levels, I know exactly how Roz Savage and Ralph Tuijn are feeling right now. Roz was caught in a storm just 10 days into her Pacific row, capsized a handful of times, had her sea anchor severed from its tether, and was subsequently "rescued" by the USCG on Wednesday (she didn't ask for the rescue, but they picked her up anyways). They were able to recover the boat, and after some minor repairs, she might be able to continue her journey. Ralph ran around on the rocky atolls of Atafu (Union Islands) after crossing more than half of the widest part of the Pacific, unaided. He got away without anything worse than cuts and bruises, but his boat fought a losing battle with the coral. He is hoping to continue on thanks to the incredible support of the islanders, but a fairly substantial (looks to be about a foot in diameter) gash in the hull could pose a problem if they cannot repair it. Ocean rowing is a great adventure, but a huge part of that adventure is the scary/exciting unknown. Only by stepping out of your comfort zone can you experience the beauty of a perfect sunrise coming up over a clear horizon or the peacefulness of a night alone with a million stars, but in that, you're probably going to experience a few storms and setbacks along the way. I've been there before, and I wish all the best to Roz and Ralph, and continued success to Erden.

So, in light of plans going awry, I am not making any this weekend. I am normally a very organized planner, meticulously scheduling my work day, my weekend adventures, my research goals for the month, training schedules for the year, etc, etc. But, since this weekend is a holiday weekend, I am taking a vacation from planning and am just taking things as they come to me.

My original lack of a plan was to play a game of "Pin the Jeep on the State of Arizona." Basically I was going to drive north on I-17 or AZ-87 (my only parameter was getting out of the heat), and not stop until I found someplace cool in temperature and cool in natural surroundings. Lakes, canyons, mountains, waterfalls, forests, or anything that could keep me busy/enthralled/lost for three days would suffice. But, since I have good adventurous friends, I have a couple of other options now as well. Now thrown into the mix are mountain biking in Sedona or Prescott, surfing in southern California, and/or watching Purdue destroy Toledo (1st game, I know it's not going to be that exciting) with a whole bunch of Boilers at Duke's in Scottsdale. What the weekend will entail, only God knows, and since He has such a great sense of humor regarding plans, I'm sure it will be interesting no matter I do.

Getting lost on Luggola Mtn., Wicklow Range, Ireland

Family and Friends

I got a call last night at 2:20 in the morning. I woke up enough to hear it, and then groggily pulled my pillow over my head. A minute later the annoying ring blared again from my desk, and I rolled out of bed, grabbed the phone and hit the Ignore button to silence the beast before rubbing my eyes to see who was calling me at that time. It took a minute or two for things to process in my head, but before sleep consumed me once more, I sat up and called the number back. My best friend Jessie has a knack for calling me at the oddest times due to the time difference between New Jersey and Arizona, but it was an odd time even for her (it was still only 5:20 a.m. in Jersey) so I figured I would be the worst best friend ever if something bad had happened and I didn't call her back just because I wanted some sleep. She answered and I immediately could tell that all was well in her world: she sounded much more excited than I did in my crabby just-got-woken-up-unexpectedly-in-the-middle-of-the-night state. "Go outside and look at the moon, there's a lunar eclipse!" she said. I opened my eyes and looked up at my window, moonlight streaming through the half-opened blinds. "No there's not," I said sleepily, though less crabbily since Jessie has a way of making me happy at any time of the day or night. But I went over to the window anyways, and sure enough, only the bottom third of the moon was visible, with a pale orange glow coming from the upper part of where the full moon should have been. It was still about 20 minutes from a full eclipse, so I told her to call me back when it was a bit closer, and I flopped down on top of my covers for a bit before the phone rang again. I took the phone and walked back over to my window, leaned against my bedroom wall to keep from falling over in my exhaustion, and answered the phone. With Jessie, and her boyfriend, on the phone, I watched the moon become fully eclipsed by the Earth's shadow, turning it into a faint, brilliant orange colored disk. Thousands of miles away (never mind the time difference), we watched the beautiful spectacle together, and all my sleepiness faded away with the night as the sun started rising over the Jersey shore. It's times like these that I realize what a great group of friends and family that I have. Jessie and I have been friends since I beat her in the mile run of the very first day of basketball conditioning during my freshman year of high school. In the decade that I have known her, we've shared hundreds of ups, downs, and everything in between. From dropping batons during the Austin track meet and slam dunking basketballs before the New Washington game, to Jet Lawrence concerts and bridgejumping over Silver Creek, to all the trouble that we got ourselves into in high school, a couple of graduations, a couple of engagements :), and hundreds of laughs, tears, and amazing memories. She's told me on numerous occasions that she is not going to get married on an odd year, for fear that I will be out rowing on some ocean and would not be able to be in her wedding. We've been there for each other through absolutely everything, and I just find it amazing to have friends like that.

I've also got a pretty amazing family. My entire extended family on both my mom's and dad's side is pretty close, and have always been the backbone that has supported me and the foundation from which I grew. I won't blame them for all the crazy adventures that I find myself in, but they all played a role in shaping the person that I am today. From building forts with my little cousins in the woods of my grandparents' farm, to my sister rescuing me from our roof and being my "mud buddy" at our river since we moved to our own farm, to my mom instilling in me my love of books and science, and my dad teaching me values and the wonders of the natural world. I could talk about them all day long, but I'm trying not to write too many books on this blog. I just wanted to share a quote that my dad sent to me. It says, "Learn to embrace change, and you will begin to recognize that life is in constant motion, and every change happens for a reason. When you see boundaries as opportunities, the world becomes a limitless place, and your life becomes a journey of change that always finds a way." I'm not sure where he got the quote, but it sorts of sums of this little segment of my life, and I love how he always knows how to help me keep my head up no matter what I'm going through.

So, just a heartfelt thanks to all of my family and friends that have always been there for me, pushing me, encouraging me, sitting in the trenches with me when things go wrong, partying it up with me when things go right, and for calling me in the middle of the night so that I don't miss out on the beauty that this world has to offer. I love you all!

What a difference a week makes...

Life is full of change, and this week was no exception. Many people are against change, but I'm one to usually roll with the punches and take life as it comes to me with a fairly open mind.

That said, this has been a pretty hard week for me. I am a very passionate person, and if I am going to do something, I am going to work at it 110% giving it my all. I don't get involved in things for which I lack passion, and as a result, the things that I make a part of my life are very important to me. Rowing and coaching are no exceptions. Except that I was fired on Wednesday.

I'm not going to use this blog as a way to air dirty laundry, and so I won't go into the details, but what it comes down to is that I was honest, and sometimes that isn't always appreciated or reciprocated by other parties. Unfortunately, those other parties happened to be someone higher in the food chain than the novice women's coach, and I was fired. I actually haven't been given a reason why I was fired, which makes the whole situation more interesting, but I'm not one to make a scene. To be perfectly honest, I am going to miss coaching very, very much. It is one of my passions, and to inspire and teach young freshmen not only rowing, but life lessons that they will take with them long after they hang up the oars, is something that I absolutely love. Up until Wednesday, I was fixing boats (still have epoxy coated hands), recruiting, and planning out my season with excitement for the coming year. But, on the other hand, there was a lot of BS in the whole situation, and I do not deal with that very well (hence the reason for me being honest). I will not be missing that.

So, that frees up a lot of time for my other passions. It will give me a chance to really work on the American Fire, focus on our new adventure racing team, play in the fall league of ultimate frisbee, and maybe even have a half-way normal social life during the school year (I have not had that in 5 years, so watch out boys!).

Although I know I'll really miss coaching, I am very excited about no bullshit in my life, and about exploring new passions again. The last thing I want to do in this part of my life is become complacent, and this change really makes me think about all the things that I can do with my time. So, in the spirit of new adventures, I participated in a mountain bike race on Saturday up in Flagstaff. Even without the race, just the drive out of Phoenix was worth it. After you get out of the Valley and into some elevation, it cools off about 20 degrees. I don't think it was much over 80 in Flag. Hannah, one of her coworkers Eric, and I drove up in the Jeep at around 5 a.m. and got there around 8 in time to get our race numbers and look around at our competition. Most everyone, including the kids, were dressed head to toe in lycra racing suits plastered with dozens of sponsors. I was in a cotton t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You could definitely tell that we were beginners, but I was excited to test what little skills I had. We started the race at 9:25 in the Women's Sport division, which would be two laps of 10 miles each. The 9 of us in the division started out on a dirt road that went uphill for about 3 miles or so. Hannah had me beat on this first leg. My quads were really burning from the week's ultimate practices and lack of sleep, but once I got over the peak of the small hill, I was good to go. The course then took a sharp turn onto rocky singletrack. I passed a few people as the course turned uphill again, and soon I caught up with Hannah again. Much of the singletrack was very crowded, and I spent much of the time passing people and being passed. The course was a lot of fun, with large boulders sticking up all over the curving track. After a short section on another dirt road, the course turned into a long downhill stretch of beautiful singletrack. I was cruising along, enjoying the breeze and ease of the downhill when my front tire suddenly lost pressure. I pulled off to the side of the course and quickly turned my bike over and got out a patch. I patched the tire in about 5 minutes, pumped it up, and got going again. No sooner than I got back on the saddle, I heard the unmistakable hiss of the tire again. Out of patches and without a spare tube, I dejectedly turned the bike over again, while dozens of riders passed me. Some were kind enough to ask if I needed anything, and I was grateful when one of them pulled over and threw me a patch. As I was patching the tire for a second time, Hannah slowed down enough to make sure that I was okay, and I waved her on while I attempted to pump up the tube again. The second patch was about as effective as the first, and the hissing in my tire continued. I was consigned to walking my bike back to the finish line when a man slowed down behind me and asked if there was anything he could do for me. He explained that he had broken his chain a few miles back and was limping to the finish himself. In a great stroke of luck, he did have an extra Presta tube, and I switched the tubes as fast as I could. After taking out the tube three times in 15 minutes, I had gotten really good at it, and without levers at that! In another five minutes, I was back on the course. I flew down the last mile, and ended the first loop in 1 hour and 43 minutes. The course closed at 1 p.m., and I had 75 minutes to make the next loop in order to be counted as a finisher, so I slogged into the second loop, hoping to at least catch Hannah again. With the beginners finished and many of the elites in front of me, the course became much more barren. I kept up with a single speed racer all the way to the singletrack, but once there, I became a little bit disheartened. The single speed guy pulled ahead, and I was left alone... thinking that I was the last one on the course. Soon the feelings disappeared though when I found myself surrounded by tall pines and meadows filled with blue lupine and poppies. All I could hear were the chirping of crickets and cicadas, and a cool breeze filled the air with the smells of the pine forest. I bounced along the rocks, extremely tired, but wanting to be nowhere else in the world at that moment. It's been a long time since I've been in the woods alone, and I had almost forgotten how peaceful it is. As I was climbing up the last hill before the final downhill leg, several of the elite bikers caught up with me, and we encouraged each other to the top. I sprinted down the last three miles, and got to the finish line in 3:05.25. Although Hannah beat me by about 15 minutes, it was a good race and I learned quite a bit from it. We also got cool trophies made of sprockets for 2nd and 3rd in the 20-29 age category (there were only 3 in our group), lots of free pizza, and some good beer with plenty of fun-loving people. After the festivities were over we went and hung out with Angel and the Barrio ultimate frisbee team who were playing Flagstaff. We joined them in an odd, yet fun, frisbee form of capture the flag until I was too exhausted to do anything but drink blueberry beer and eat Fritos. We left to return home around 7, and got caught in a 4 hour long traffic back-up due to a wreck on the I-17. Finally getting back around 1 a.m., I fell into bed without thinking twice about the dirt and grease that covered my body.

I spent today taking a well deserved shower and resting and not too much else. It's been a long time since I've just chilled, and it was certainly nice to sit down for once and think about things. The past week has been interesting to say the least, but I've got my integrity intact and a lot of adventures in the future, so overall, I'm a pretty satisfied kid. We'll see where the next week takes me...

Living Passionately

Another fun, successful weekend in the books. Although this weekend was supposed to be a bit of a slower weekend for me (trying to get caught up on laundry, cleaning, etc), it ended up being full of a fair bit of good adventure. I pretty much caught up on all of the cleaning stuff on Friday night (exciting, I know), and by Saturday morning, I was ready to tackle the weekend. I was up by 5 a.m., and the other half of Desert Pirates (Ryan) came and picked me up around 6 to head to the Phoenix Mountain Preserve for the second installment of the Extreme Heat AR series. Things started out well enough for us in this sprint adventure race, and we were cruising along quite nicely through the first couple checkpoints and mystery events. The only bad thing up to that point was the fact that we were behind the Buckeyes. As we started the biking leg though, we got behind a few slower teams on the singletrack, and couldn't easily pass them. A snobby woman and her horse blocking the trail at one point didn't help much either, though. But, we continued on through the first biking checkpoints in mid-pack. Things started to take a turn for the worse when we missed a checkpoint (reading the map while biking doesn't make for the best results - you don't avoid obstacles, and you don't really get the details of the map) and had to turn back around for 1/4 mile to get the point. Shortly afterwards, Ryan's front tire went flat. He didn't have a pump, and all I had was a Presta pump, which would not work for his Shraeder tubes. Fortunately, an awesome solo racer offered to help, and gave us a CO2 pump, which quickly reinflated the tube and after 10 minutes (which seemed like an eternity) we were back in the race. Alas, our luck didn't last. We took a wrong trail up a large, steep mountain as Ryan's tire was starting to go flat again. It was probably a 1/2 mile and 500 ft elevation mistake. Yeah, oops. But just as his tire went completely flat, we came up on the correct trail, and the final biking checkpoint... and the Buckeyes, who had had almost equally bad luck by missing one of the first checkpoints after going through most of them. Even 1/4 mile from the TA, this gave us hope, as we thought (as we had during the first adventure race), that our OSU friends were much further ahead. We booked it as fast as we could back to the TA, bouncing and walking our bikes along the rocky terrain so that we wouldn't completely destroy his rim, which had taken quite a beating. Once we got through the final mystery event, several teams had already finished. We knew that we weren't going to win, but we still had the chance to beat the Bucks, so we quickly jogged to the trekking checkpoints, hoping to get a glimpse of Hannah or Tom. We were rewarded as we were climbing the hill to our last checkpoint and saw Hannah coming down the ridge... with Tom nowhere to be seen. She had mentioned that she didn't know where he was, so we got even more hope that we could at least save something from the race and beat them. After clearing the ridge to the last checkpoint, we bushwhacked and ran back to the finish, where, alas, our adversaries were drinking Coke and cooling off. Our only saving grace was that our egg (which we had to protect from the beginning of the race), had survived while theirs did not, giving us a 5 minute advantage over them. It was a close finish between us, but neither of us fared even mid-pack, so however the results turn out, it's not really much to brag about. Still, always an adventure, and there were lots of good stories at the end of it, so it was worth it in the end.

I spent the rest of Saturday helping to move my friend/coworker into our house. Ryan (a different one) is a great guy, and I think it's going to be a blast living with him. Plus, he and his family (who live in PHX) do a lot of dirtbiking, and he's offered to let me try it as well. Can't beat that :). After chilling with him and watching the Dbacks kick ATL's arse, I headed out to the Venue of Scottsdale where another friend/coworker, Jeff, was helping to manage the local band Digital Summer. It was the first time I've seen them live, and they were AMAZING!! Great music, awesome performance, and hanging out with a lot of good people. I really do recommend the band though. They're homegrown here in the Valley, but I'm sure they'll go big soon: they've got the talent, their own unique style (closest thing to them would be Linkin Park), and a lot of heart and passion on stage. I love live local bands, and they're definitely the best I've heard in awhile. Digital Summer, pass it on.

Today was spent mostly at the boathouse, fixing up ASU's wonderful fleet. Although we may not have the best equipment, I believe that the spirit that we have right now in the women's program is going to take us places. I don't know what kind of girls I'll have this year, but I made my hands black with epoxy and T9 so that at least the Warp Speed (my #1 novice boat) will be fit to race with the big dogs... even if the ribs are falling apart and I made my own slide stops out of epoxy, by the time I get done with her, she'll be ready for some strong, fast girls. And I'll work on the strong, fast girls thing starting next week. I'm excited, folks. Watch out.

And, never satisfied with just one good adventure, I headed out south this evening with Angel and Hannah for what was supposed to be some easygoing MTB along a doubletrack on one of the Indian Reservations. For the first hour, we wound around the tracks, up and down a few fun gravelly hills, and then finally got into the desert proper, which was beautiful with the setting sun and a dust storm off to our southwest. Then, as we were headed off more into the desert, Hannah looked back and mentioned that she had seen some caves on her last bike out in the area. Sure enough, there were two nice sized holes in the hill that we had just passed, so we dropped our bikes right there and sprinted up to check them out. With the aid of a small headlamp, we peered into a long tunnel. It was littered with trash and smelled of urine, but it seemed to go on for quite a ways, as if it were an old mine shaft. I've always been drawn to caves and this was no exception, so we started slowly in to explore it. No sooner than we took a few steps in, a bat came flying out, and it's times like those when you realize where "bat out of hell" comes from. Those little guys don't slow down for anyone. It startled us, and as a fight or flight response, I put up my fists as if I could have fought the thing (adrenaline does weird things to you). But we quickly calmed down after we realized what it was, and continued on a few more steps. As we did, we heard a sound that has become unmistakable to me here in the desert. The Life Sciences Department at ASU keeps about 25 rattlesnakes in the building right next to mine, and everytime I go in there, at least one of them seems to be pissed off at something. They're in glass cages there though. The hissing sound of the rattle sent us all flying out of the cave with a speed that the bats would have been jealous of. Once we were well away from the cave, though, our curiousity got the better of us, and we wanted to take a look at the snake. For about the next 20 minutes, we shined the light into the cave (the snake really hated the light and responded with increased frequency of rattles) to try and make him come out. What we would have done when he came out remains a mystery. But we still couldn't see it, and, like the mischievous kids that we are, we started throwing rocks at it. The rattler really didn't like that, but we couldn't stop till we saw it. From hundreds of experiences battling mother nature, I've learned that if you mess with her, she'll mess with you right back, and the odds are usually with her. I've only been on the planet 24 years, and she's got a couple billion years on me. With every bat that came hurtling out of the cave, the adrenaline would kick in, and at one point, had me running all the way down the hill. After that, I decided that as much as I would have loved to see the snake, I rather leave without getting bit. Eventually Hannah and Angel did as well, and we continued along our way without ever seeing the little (big?) guy. The rest of the ride went well, and we rode the return half on the road, getting back to our cars well after sunset. Since we were down that way, we decided to introduce Hannah and Angel to the American Fire. No matter how many times I see that beautiful baby, she still gets my heart rate going. No work on her today, just showing off, but it was still great to see her.

And now, in these last final hours before I tuck myself into bed before the first day of school, a million things are running through my head, but the main one revolves around dreams and passions and living life to the fullest. The conversation started after a delicious meal of In-N-Out Burger, and ended up as a mildly heated debate between the members of the fledgling ODP adventure racing team (details to come soon). I've always lived my life without boundaries. I know that limits may exist, but sometimes I, in my stubbornness, refuse to see them. In my life, I have been told that I'm crazy about 5,482 times (or somewhere thereabouts), but I've never let that stop me from what I believe is worthy, right, or possible. Maybe I am crazy, I've learned that I have no problem with that if I am. I think people are crazy for letting their life just slip by without anything to live passionately about. It takes all kinds, but I consider myself blessed to be the crazy kind that enjoys my life to the max and gets to help people along the way. I am a dreamer, but at the same time I am a realist. I've got castles in the air, dreams that start out as nothing but a figment of the imagination. The difference between my dreams and others is that I put a solid foundation underneath those castles in the air. I'm not satisfied with doing things the way everyone else does. It's not that I'm ever trying to show off, it's that quite frankly, doing things that everyone else can bores me . I don't want castles on the ground, but yet I won't let my dreams just float away, either. I take those dreams, and I make them reality. Impossible is nothing. I know it's said as a cliche sometimes, but if you do want something bad enough, it is possible. It's never easy, and you will have to work for it, but in the end, isn't that what life is about anyways? The people that make a difference in the world are the ones who don't see limits or boundaries, and don't let anything stop them from pursuing their passions. I want to be one of those people, and I want to make the world a better place through my HIV work, coaching, and inspiring people through adventures... and I believe that I can. Maybe I'm crazy for it and maybe it isn't possible, but I believe that it is. They may be dreams now, but I will make them reality or die trying. Hopefully not anytime soon, though :). Sleep well rattlesnakes, sleep well.

New Beginnings

After about a month of reading blogs, I finally decided that I'd start writing one. I figured if I was writing in a journal, writing a book, and writing to family anyways, I could maybe get most of it accomplished in one place, and maybe get some feedback on it anyways. So, here it is. Welcome to my humble blog.

It's the middle of August, and for the past 19 years of my life, that's meant one thing: the beginning of the school year. It's been that way since I was five, and will be for at least the next four years of my life. Even though I have pretty much always loved school, I have always hated leaving the fun freedom of summer (with the exception of maybe first grade, which would have been the one year that going "back" to school was new and exciting). It's not that I disliked what I was going into, it was that I knew that I would have to leave something behind. My treehouse was still there, the rope swing was still hanging over the river, and our forts were just as welcoming in August as they were in June, but I had to leave them behind, put on shoes (not even just flop flops, but SHOES), and head to school with a new set of pencils and folders and hundreds of sheets of looseleaf notebook paper. I hated that the limitless world I had carefully constructed during the summer months had to be put aside for the structure of the educational system. I knew that if I hadn't been made to sit in a classroom all day, I could have been having a lot more fun. I also knew that if I was out in the woods while my friends were in school, I'd still miss out. It's always been one of life's difficulties for me: I cannot stand to miss out on anything, and I've spent a good part of my life trying to figure out how to cram as much fun and excitement into my life as I can in the time I've got (aka, try not to miss out on ANYTHING at anytime). If I was off on my own adventure during the summer, I would wish that my friends were there with me to enjoy it, but when I was hanging out with friends during the year, I would look up at my pictures on the wall and wish that I was off climbing in the mountains. I absolutely love new beginnings, and absolutely loath endings, and so for most of my academic career I've gone about the first few days of classes with a reluctant understanding that the school year would hold a different set of adventures, and that summer would be waiting for me at the end of it all.

The beginning of the school year now means a lot more work for me than it did even when I was younger. For graduate school, it means that you're expected to go to class, attend seminars, form committees, present your research, and generally get more results than you usually do during the lazy days of summer. As a coach, it means that I have to shake off my slacking, hippie summer ways and be a tough, responsible leader able to shape young freshmen into competitive rowers. And though I know I would sorely miss the joys and triumphs of academics and coaching, I still will lament about the end of my freedom and fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants adventures of the summer. But, as always, I'll probably still have a ton of adventures throughout the schoolyear, and the summer will take its turn at the end of May.

...And I still have a few days before the schoolyear starts, and who am I kidding? I'm still going to cram as much adventure into every day as I can. It just means that I might have to buy a mountain bike light and get a little less sleep at night. It's okay, bike equipment goes on sale in the winter and I can sleep when I die. As always, long live adventure.