Integrity

I've done a lot of thinking about a lot of things over the course of the week, most of them revolving around integrity. Although I know I'm far from perfect, one of the things that I hold very dearly to is my integrity. I can lose everything in my life, but noone but myself can take that away from me unless I choose to compromise it. During my time here on this planet, I pretty much just want to have fun and help people along the way, and it makes me wonder about other people's motives sometimes and their lack of integrity.

First off, I'm dealing with the not coaching thing fairly well. Just as nature abhors a vacuum and tends to fill it in with stuff, my life abhors boredom and things like ultimate frisbee and adventure racing have filled in the space where coaching once stood. But, that doesn't stop me from thinking about coaching and what it means to me, which is why the ASU football situation bothers me. ASU hired a new football coach, Dennis Erikson, last year to replace their old coach, Dirk Koetter. The football program under Koetter had its own share of problems regarding NCAA violations and even a murder between players. Not the best of situations to say the least. So, when AD Lisa Love decided to fire the guy, I wasn't that surprised nor saddened (except that taxpayers, including myself, are still paying his million dollar salary). When she fired him, she could have started the ASU football program over with a fresh, clean, new beginning devoid of violations or lawsuits. But she didn't. She, along with Pres. Michael Crow, decided that money and success were more important than integrity, and they hired Erikson. Sure, he's won a handful of national championships and knows what he's doing as far as winning (though not of late), but the guy has been involved in numerous NCAA violations and basically led to the downfall of Miami football. He (along with his fellow assistant coaches) drank with players before big bowl games, allowed drug use to go rampant within his team, turned a blind eye to pay-for-play deals that rappers were giving his players, helped players to file bogus financial aid forms (and then later lied about it), and basically lacked any control of his team. And ASU bought the guy away from Idaho - where he had said that he would finish his career. But, supposedly, Erikson will help to increase ticket sales as our team gets more notoriety and "success." Last time I checked, the University was here to graduate students (including athletes) that will go on to represent ASU in a positive light. When we hire instructors (including coaches) who lack loyalty, discipline, and personal integrity, we cannot possibly expect our students to learn these qualities. To me, one of the most important jobs of a coach does not lie on the playing ground, it comes from the life lessons that are taught alongside the drills, sprints, and plays. Leadership, determination, work ethic, time management, integrity, and teamwork can only be taught with a leader that possesses those skills, and it makes me sad when I see that money, greed, and politics are more important than the true values in life. As a coach, mentor, and someday as a mother (not soon, no worries), I hope to instill these qualities in the younger generation so that they can live full, wholesome lives.

Another incident that I found disturbing revolves around the Phoenix Summit Challenge. Although I've never participated in the event myself, it sounds like an amazing way to challenge yourself within the Phoenix city limits. In 2005, Phoenix adventurer and REI employee Carla Olson created this event that spans seven of the highest summits in each of the city mountain preserves. Through her own ingenuity, hard work, and finances, she founded a highly successful and enjoyable event. Partnered with sponsors REI and the City of Phoenix, several hundred participants lined up to take part in the challenge in 2005. In 2006, the event filled to capacity within just a few hours of registration due to the success of the previous year's event. There were no injuries, and everything went very smoothly. It was a win-win situation for all involved: participants got a challenge (and some pretty sweet door prizes from what I hear), REI got some great exposure, the City got donations for its trails projects, and Carla got the satisfaction and pride that comes with organizing a successful event from its infancy to fruition. And then 2007 came around... and things got ugly. The City, seeing that the event was such a success, decided that they should be the ones controlling the event, and earning any consequent revenue that came from said event. So, they told Carla that they were not going to give her the permits to use the City preserves and said that they were in short, canceling the Phoenix Summit Challenge. Which would have been bad enough for such a successful program, but then they decided to host their own challenge and tried to file suit against Carla and her LLC for trademark issues and other irrelevant claims. In the City's "Phoenix Summit Challenge," they basically stole all of Carla's e-mail lists from the past events (under the guise of information needed by law for the litigation) as well as information straight from her website to use for their own challenge. So, for this year's challenge (which REI is not sponsoring, good for them), you have to sign up for a "class" (much like the City of Tempe rowing programs) online in order to participate in the hikes. Basically paying the City to use their trails to hike, and not much else - no door prizes, no dinner afterwards, no communal bond of hikers and adventurers to share in the joy of the event, because the city government has taken all the fun out of it with their greed and lack of integrity. For Carla's sake, I hope the City's event flops and she is able to put on the real event next year... because I want to participate, and I won't participate in something that the City stole.

But enough of that... many other fun things to think about. I'm headed back to beautiful Prescott this morning for some more mountain biking adventures. Have a good one!

Labor Day Weekend Adventures

This weekend's lack of plans went quite nicely. Since San Diego was apparently having some sort of border control riot, the temperatures were soaring there, the waves didn't seem to be doing much according to surfline, and the campsites on the beach were all reserved, I figured it might be best to just explore Arizona instead. I've been here a few months over a year, and still have a lot of exploring to do.

The weekend started out around 6:30 a.m. on Saturday morning. As I headed up to Angel's house, the sun had just begun to hit the tallest peaks in the South Mountains, bathing the Valley in morning light that promised to get well above 100 in just a few hours (hence the reason for leaving). Up in Scottsdale, I met up with Angel, Bill, and Michelle (a guy, he's French :)) and we all headed north on I-17, destination Prescott. As we headed north, the elevation slowly increased: directly proportional to the number of trees and inversely proportional to the temperature. I became mesmerized by the gyroscopic effect of the tires on Angel's bike hanging off the back of her car. Since I had nothing else interesting to look at in the desert, I tried to figure out the effect it was having on her car... left tire spinning clockwise at about 80 RPM perpendicular to the movement of the car, right tire counterclockwise at an angle about double the speed of the left, 26" rims, 70 miles per hour... my scientific conclusion was that I am a nerd and that I should stop thinking about those sort of things on vacation. We soon exited the Interstate and took AZ-69 towards Prescott. As we got further along the highway, the cactus gave way to scrub oak and then the scrub oak finally gave way to pines as we turned onto Senator Highway and into the Prescott National Forest. When we stopped at the trailhead, it was 80 degrees, the skies were blue, and the air was fresh at over 6000 ft. The four of us got out the bikes and started climbing up Trail 307. The first couple of miles were through the pine forest and up the mountain. It was great training for our future mountain bike and adventure races, as we tried to bunny hop our way up rocks and logs. Some of it was a bit too steep and strewn with obstacles for us, so we were forced to hike-a-bike long stretches at a time. We weren't too concerned, as it gave Angel and I time to discuss details of what we want ODP to be, and also gave us a bit of time to get some oxygen into our bloodstream. Three miles later, we reached the top of Spruce Mountain, elevation 7693 ft. We took a well deserved break at the very top, enjoying the good company of fellow adventure junkies and stories of past mountain biking adventures. Then the fun began. From the top, the trail curved around the ridgeline for 6 beautiful, wonderful, adrenaline-pumping miles. The course was dotted with logs (placed by Forest Service for erosion control) and rocks (placed by God for extra fun). At first, I was a bit timid, as the logs posed a 12" drop or greater in places, often followed by extensive rock gardens, narrow singletrack along the ridge, and plenty of twists and turns. Bill went first, and was well ahead, and I followed Michelle, with Angel in back. Once I saw how Michelle was taking the obstacles, I decided that I could do it as well, and with every log I bunnyhopped (slowly, cautiously at first), I gained confidence. Once I gained confidence, I started to fly, and whoop with pure joy and exhilaration. Talk about living in the moment... this was life... adrenaline rush and then some. I caught up with Michelle about a mile into the downhill stretch. He took a head-over-handlebars approach to one of the logs, and ended up breaking his fall in a bed of rocks. He's a very resilient guy though, and went about fixing his busted front tire as if nothing had happened despite the scrapes up and down his arms and his knees which took the brunt of the crash. We continued on the rest of the trail without any additional injuries (although Angel hurt her toe when she got so pissed off at her bike that she kicked it... the bike won). We flew through pine forests and scrub oak patches, barely able to take in the scenery. If you took your eyes off the trail for one second, you were going to eat rocks, quite literally. It was a huge rush though, and the confidence that we all gained was amazing. At one point, we lost the trail for a bit, but it was blessing in disguise, as we stumbled upon some end of the season blackberries, which tasted as good as they did back in July. Before we knew it though, we were back at the trailhead, a little bit scratched up and a little dirty, but with smiles on our faces that couldn't be wiped off.

To celebrate the successful ride, we all headed down to the square in Prescott for some brew and grub. I had never been into the town before, and it pleasantly reminded me of the town square back in Salem (Indiana). An old courthouse surrounded by old red brick buildings full of character and delicious food. We all dug in to half-pound cheeseburgers and a sampling of the brewery's 11 different beers just as a summer thunderstorm opened up outside. It could not have been any more perfect. After lunch, the guys headed back to Phoenix, and Angel decided to tag along with me in my lack of plans. Since it was already around 4 p.m., we opted to hang around the area instead of trying to find someplace new. We first explored a small lake in the National Forest. Since there was no swimming allowed (what is it with these lakes in Arizona?), we watched some guys fish for crayfish with a rock, a piece of string, and a huge hunk of turkey bacon. Just as we walked by, they caught a 6" long crawdad, and we stopped to see it hungrily devour the meat before taking home a bit for the family when they guys let it loose.

We then tried our hand at bouldering back at the trailhead. Although there was chalk all over the good handholds, we found ourselves to be pretty novice at the sport (at least on these boulders), and ended up just climbing the easy routes. After we wore ourselves out there, we loaded up with our gear, and headed back out into the woods to camp. We found the perfect spot nestled back in the pines in an area with a lot of big boulders. Angel found a rock that acted as a perfect recliner chair, and we pitched the tent and hung the hammock right next to it. For the rest of the evening, we just watched the stars and the clouds move across the sky while sharing stories and eating Doritos. It wasn't until it started storming that we finally succumbed to the tent (though I stood outside the tent munching on Doritos for a few minutes in the rain wondering whether it was going to let up or not... it didn't, so no sleeping in the hammock or on the rock for us). Once in the tent, Angel entertained me with stories of how bandits might be lurking outside, waiting to pounce when the moment was just right. The human mind will do weird things when it's dark and stormy... and I fell asleep listening for the sound of footsteps amid the drops of rain.

We woke up to a bright sunny, clean morning. We broke camp around 9 a.m. and decided that a big breakfast and coffee for Angel would be the best thing to do. We headed back to Prescott where their Labor Day Festival was going strong on the square. After a big breakfast, we spread the Arizona map on the hood of Angel's car, and contemplated where we wanted to go next. Angel mentioned that Bell Trail in the Wet Beaver Wilderness would probably be great for mountain bike training, plus there was was a creek with rocks to climb and cliffs to jump off of. Sounded good enough for me, and we took off down AZ-169 headed northeast. As we drove, the pines turned into scrub oak, and the scrub oak turned into mesquite again as we lost a little elevation. The sun was shining hot overhead when we got to the trailhead, so we topped off our water containers, took off our shirts, and started biking up the red dust trail. The first two miles were great: enough rocks along the wide trail to keep things interesting and a bit of a breeze to keep us from overheating. Then Angel informed me that there was going to be a bit of an incline where we were going to have to carry our bikes, and then things would level off again where we could ride again. So, we carried our bikes, it leveled off for about 100 meters, and as we came around a turn, there was another long stretch of rocky incline. No big deal, carry bikes again, flat stretch.... and then another incline. It was hot and tiring, and I kept busting my scratched knee against my pedals as I carried my bike. The trail became very narrow along the ridge, and just as I was passing a small wash that fell over the cliff, I rolled my ankle. Now I was hot, tired, pissed off, and hurting, but just glad that I didn't topple over the edge. I rolled my left ankle again on our last incline and basically walked my bike the last half mile to where Angel was waiting for me at the swimming hole. I was frustrated, and thought about kicking her like she had kicked her bike previously, but I knew that it would have done about as much good as it had done her, so I just locked up the bikes and we walked down to the swimming hole. I instantly forgave her as I laid eyes on the red rock cliffs and boulders with the clear, cool water waiting in deep pools below. There were a few other people there, and one girl was standing at the top of a ledge, contemplating whether she should jump or not. Throwing caution to the wind, I ran up behind her and just leaped into the nothingness and down into the refreshing liquid below (she figured that if I could do it, she could too, and she followed suit shortly after). After the hell that we had just been through, it was pure heaven. We spent the next few hours swimming, climbing, jumping, and just generally enjoying the scenery. Late in the afternoon, we reluctantly unchained the bikes and made our way back along the hellish trail. The bad part wasn't as bad going downhill, though in my exhaustion, I walked much of it as opposed to trying to get some training down the rocks. The last two miles flew by, and before we knew it, we were back at the trailhead... where there are several signs posted that read: No Biking in the Wilderness!. Oops. $300 fine oops if we had been caught, so no more biking on that trail, for a whole lot of reasons.

At that point, Angel had to go back to Phoenix, but I was determined to stay out of the Valley as long as possible, and donned my pack again and started hiking back into the canyon alone. Well, mostly alone, I did come across a cool hippy guy who had found a snake on the trail and spent a few minutes talking with him and admiring the snake (it looked like a garter snake back in the Midwest) curling around his arm. After two miles, my shadow had become very long in the setting sun and I found myself in between two large outcroppings of red rock with the creek in between. I slipped down a little cliff and set up camp along the stream as the sun began to set. I spent the evening eating Mountain House mac and cheese, reading West of Jesus (about science, surfing, and the origins of belief), and just enjoying the solitude of the wild. I would also be lying if I said that I wasn't a little bit lonely and wary of the bandits that Angel had placed in my head. I fell asleep early as rain started pelting my little tent.

The benefit of falling asleep early is that I also woke up early enough to catch the sun rising over the eastern rim of the canyon. From my tent, I could see the moon and the first rays striking the rock hundreds of feet above my head. Canyon wrens were singing their songs and other birds joined in on the chorus to bring in the new day. I soaked up the solitude and peacefulness of the little valley as if I was the only person on the planet. For a long time, I just sat and watched the sun creep along the canyon walls until it finally burst forth into the stream, lighting up my world. There is nothing more humbling than watching the methodical, timeless work of the natural world. You realize how simple, fragile, and precious life really is, and it's times like that when I really feel blessed to just be a part of it. When the sun had fully infiltrated the camp, I broke down the tent, spent some more time just reflecting on the beauty of the world, and then started back towards the trailhead. I stopped for a breakfast of prickly pear fruits (how great is it that I snacked on blackberries in the same weekend), and leisurely made my way along the trail. Once back at the Jeep, I sloughed off my pack as a Prescott College van pulled into the gravel parking lot. Two guys quickly jumped out and started pulling out packs and maps like their lives depended on it. Soon after, a fire truck pulled into the lot and started talking to the two guys, followed by an ambulance and a fire chief's truck. With half a dozen rescue personnel milling around, I went over to see if there was anything I could help with. Although they appreciated the gesture, they seemed to have everything in control for the situation, and quickly explained that they were on a rescue mission for a young woman up somewhere in the wilderness. With that, I decided that maybe I had had enough adventure the weekend, and that a trip into Cottonwood's wilderness wasn't entirely necessary to do by myself. No need to overdo it and end up needing a rescue. Though Angel later put it best... if I ever do live in a small town like that, it would be fulfilling to be a part of a volunteer rescue crew and give back to the community in that way.

I (as well as the Jeep and my bike) wasn't too happy about heading back to the Valley, and just to reiterate the fact, as we hit the Maricopa County border, the outside temp. gauge hit 100 degrees. But, we all got back safely with a fun, exciting, relaxing, and enjoyable Labor Day weekend in the books, lots of good stories to tell for weeks to come, and many other places to explore in Arizona in the future.

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.