All the parks in the world...

...and this jerk had to walk into mine.
Jessy and I went running yesterday at Bicentennial Park, which is full of bears and moose and runners and mountain bikers and horses and other people and animals generally recreating. It's well traveled, but still gets a good dose of car break-ins at the trailhead and such. Jessy and I noticed a dog, a Chow mix, hanging around the trailhead when we left for our run, but there were several other cars in the lot, and a number of people milling around, loading or unloading themselves and their gear from their vehicles. When we came back from our run, an hour later, the dog was still there, and there were considerably fewer vehicles: just my bike, Jessy's truck, a big van, and a Subaru. Jessy knows the guy with the van, he was out biking with his Airedale. The Subaru appeared vacant.

Anyhow, this dog was obviously hanging around, not very friendly, very skittish, and very skinny. No tags. No collar. And Chows are notorious for being biters. So we were hesitant to try to touch him. We decided to call animal control, since it looked quite likely that someone had come and dropped their unwanted pet off at the trailhead.

While Jessy was on hold with information, the guy with the van came back. We described the situation to him, and he agreed with our plan of action. He had some dog treats, and was trying to lure the Chow into his van, because none of us thought it would be a good idea to try and pick the dog up (strange dog, biting breed, etc). As the dog was almost getting into the van, this man appears, exclaiming "What, are you trying to steal my dog?" in a very accusatory tone. We all were surprised, explained the situation, and expressed our relief that the Chow had an owner. Apparently, this guy had been sleeping in his car and just let his uncollared, untagged, unidentified dog wander around while he slept. He even said that his dog had bitten people for less than what we were doing, so he was glad the dog didn't bite us. Um, yeah, me too! Why would you let your unidentified, uncollared, biting dog wander around while you sleep in your car at a trailhead?!?!?! Call me crazy, but you're the guy in the wrong, buddy!

He was so peeved and indignant that it just turned me right off. I thought of all sorts of nasty things to say to him as I rode home, but since I was too late, I thought I'd just write it in this post. Some people!!!

We're the big Wieners!

The Alaska Run for Women was this past Saturday. It's an all-women annual running event that raises money for breast cancer research and education, and this was my 8th year, I think. The folks at my office sponsored a port-a-potty this year, which we decorated. I made the scales and the head and helped put it together, and thought it was so great that I took the head home with me when it was all done. Lo and behold, we won the decoration contest! I hear the prize is a toilet seat. So proud!

The little motorcycle that could

The verdict is in - 64 mpg!

Takin' the lead

I've been put in stroke seat of the boat for the last 5 practices (each practice of the season thus far), which means I'm leading the boat for rhythm, rate, and technique. It's been a very interesting experience. Typically, I row 6 seat. The boat is set up with every other rower being a port or starboard, and the 8 seat (stroke) is port. So 8, 6, 4, and 2 seats are port; 7, 5, 3, and bow (1) are starboard. In 6 seat, I can support the stroke seat by not rushing and by minimizing the rush that might be coming up from the bow of the boat. I can carry the rhythm of stroke seat back into the bow by mirroring stroke seat's movements as closely as I can. I can also apply a lot of power, since the middle four seats of the boat are the most stable, and I can really "stand up on it" and not worry so much about affecting the set (the keel balance) of the boat.
In stroke seat, there's more pressure. I've always liked 6 seat because it seems to be more of a behind-the-scenes seat than the stroke seat. A good stroke has to be confident in their technique, power, timing, and stamina, because there's no getting sloppy in stroke seat. If you're sloppy, the boat falls apart. If you're in any other seat and are sloppy, the other seats can absorb and compensate for you.
The team's typical stroke seat is away for 6 weeks, on a cross-country RV trip. She's great, and I love rowing 6 seat behind her. But while she's gone, the coach is trying me out at stroke. He has given me good pointers and plenty of encouragement, and I agree with his thought that the team needs to be developing strokes for multiple boats. Our typical stroke is in her early 40s. Racing categories are by age, and it would be great if the team had a seasoned stroke for the 50-plus-rowers as well as the 30-somethings. We only have one or two 20-somethings, so they row with us old gals. I suppose I'm being groomed for this 30-something stroke seat.
The biggest problem with this that I see is that I'm facing the coxswain the whole time. Often, I'm helping a new coxswain or rower sitting in as cox to call out the drills, make turns, and keep everyone in line. The problem comes that if the boat isn't being as attentive as I think they should be (I realize this is relative), then I get snappy. And I end up taking that feeling out on the coxswain. Really, we all know how to set the boat, we all know how to hit particular stroke ratings, and we all know when we're not doing those two things. But somehow it takes the cox to remind everyone of those duties before people start paying attention and actually doing them. I have to remind myself that not everyone on the team is in it for the same reasons that I am, and honestly, that not everyone on the team knows what it feels like to have a crew working together that feels quick and light, like flying across the surface of the water. That's the goal. That's the feeling we're working toward.

Bike rides in springtime

Spring has finally sprung here - it always feels as though it will never come, and then one day I find myself wondering when all the green leaves unfolded. I rode my bike to work this morning, saw a moose, and could smell these incredible white lilac trees that are planted along the bike trails. The kind of ride that makes me wonder why I don't do this every day - but then I think about my errands, and remember why I ride the motorcycle or even the station wagon.

The motorcycle has been good, very good. I rode Jim's 650 cc the other day, and although it runs a little rougher than my 225, the extra weight of the cycle felt much better on corners and going 45 mph. I noticed yesterday, as I was riding the 225, that I was suddenly more confident taking corners. Thanks, 650!

It's a crazy week for me, but things should calm down next week. My rowing club is having our annual fundraiser on Sunday, and I've become the committee chair. I really need to delegate more next year. The good news is that everything seems to be on track to raise $18,000. We will likely spend about $6,000 putting it on, so that's a pretty tidy net. We'll see. Things always happen at the last minute (like my sister in law pulling her participation yesterday - the race is Sunday), and there are several days of last minute left before the Big Day.

And yes, I know I've been lagging in posts - I was lecturing myself this morning as I rode through the lilac air...