Titans clash on mars-red earth
A world white-outlined
Yet theirs to define
As a past greatness
Meets a meets a present surge
Independent from
Unaware of
The waiting breath
The hands held inches apart
Waiting for collapse.
Clouds kicked into the sky
As earth is knocked out
Of sluggish sliding shoes
Combining opposites
Entwining brick
With once-clear air
A construction site
Where greatness is built
At the horizon
Of the high-flying
And the pounding ground.
Poem:
I'm watching the French Open during my first bout of free time in quite a while. It's Djokovic and Federer, and it's incredible what these guys can do. I really believe Federer is the greatest player of all time, with the most complete game, the most class, and the most elegance on and off the court. But Djokovic is undefeated this year, and Federer is almost thirty years old. So it's sort of a clash between the ages. The clay surface is an interesting dynamic, and it has detrimental effects on both players. The sliding, the awkwardness it causes, serve to make it interesting on multiple levels, and the mental dynamic results in streaks of brilliance and comfortability alternating with frustration and seeming impotence. My poem is a bit obscure because I guess a poem saying tennis is fun to watch and clay makes it interesting too was just a little too basic. But maybe the obscurity of poetry is a bit gratuitous at times, so I'm sorry if it seems that way.
Observation:
I biked across the country a few years ago, and had quite a few people follow me on a blog then. I thought that was awesome, and it was a bit of a motivation for starting this one. But I never thought I would encounter someone who had followed that other blog, let alone have them come up to me years later on the street and talk to me a bit out of the blue. I had just finished a bike race this weekend when this lady came up from behind me and asked if I was Ryan. When I responded in the affirmative, she said she had followed my blog as I rode across the country and enjoyed my commentary. Especially the bits about Nutella. In fact, she had tried it for the first time and had one of her friends try it all because of my recommendations (read: unbridled adorations). The experience totally made my day. Unfortunately, I have stopped eating Nutella for the most part, which has made me a bit less consistent in my promotion. I just haven't been active enough recently to warrant consuming that many calories. That might be changing, though. I'll be sure to let you know.
Exercise:
Why would an antiques dealer leave town?
He was an antique himself by the time he finally left his shop behind. The sun of a Sunday afternoon glinted off the storefront windows, barely letting the stuff inside peek out. The yellow tinge on his skin might be called by those in the business a "fantastic patina indicating authenticity." His hands were both callused from years spent moving furniture and nimble from exploring the intricacies of delicate curiosities. A pocket watch reluctantly exposed its inner workings, and with a few knowledgeable manipulations, resumed ticking, though the loud acknowledgment of seconds passing bore a rather heavy reminder that time was always of the essence. So as he locked the glass door behind him, he didn't bother peering through the window at the world of objects he was leaving behind. He put the ticking watch into his pocket and strode to his decidedly new car. He took off his tweed jacket and immediately his persona seemed to shift from the archaic expert in antiquities to that of an eccentric with just a little more money than he knew how to spend. His car hummed open, the door thudded shut behind him, and with an ambitious rev, he started on his way. He had enjoyed his role as the local old humdrum with too much time and too many stories, but it was finally time to get away. He tossed his fedora out the window, put on some sunglasses, and headed for parts unknown.
Me:
I raced my bike four days last weekend, so I guess I'll start there. Friday was a 52 mile road race, and I was up against category threes and fours. Since I am a four, I was a little nervous, but it turned out that there were no strenuous parts of the race to worry about. The only people that weren't there at the finish line were the ones with flat tires or other issues unrelated to fitness. And when it comes to a forty person field sprint, I am not the person to be betting on, so I finished in the middle of the pack.
Saturday was Snake Alley. I've been looking forward to this race for a while, as it has one of the most well-known hills in the region. Unfortunately, the hill is well-known for a variety of reasons, not just for its difficulty. One of these reasons is the narrowness of the winding hill. This didn't seem to be an issue for the other races I watched on the course, so I was mostly concerned about the downhill. And then my race started, and the first time into the alley there was a crash that forced me off my bike. I got back on, almost a minute behind the leaders, and started trying to catch up. The second time up the hill, another person crashed right in front of me. I thought about giving up at that point and saving myself for my next races, but the course seemed to suit me and I just wanted to keep going. So I did, and then I ran into a curb on my fourth time up. So I stopped a total of three times. And then with three laps to go it started raining pretty hard. Nobody had traction on the brick for the climb, and I was terrified of descending aggressively in the rain, so I gave up a couple of positions and couldn't catch the leaders. But I finished tenth, which was pretty decent considering what I went through. I heard someone say at the top of the hill I was in the mid-forties as far as placing was concerned in the early going. Making up thirty places after all that silly stuff was good enough for me. My dad said I was turning out the fastest lap times of anyone on the course, so I was content.
Sunday I attacked to bridge up to a strong rider off the front. Travis Jass is a well-known powerhouse in the Iowa area, and I thought we could make the break stick. I hesitated to give it my all, though, and we got caught with two to go. Luckily, I had a little energy left, and on the last lap I was moving up the outside on the hill before the finish when another crash happened. How someone managed to crash on a straight section of uphill I have no idea, but it took me out of contention. I had tried something ambitious, though, so at least I had that good experience under my belt.
Monday I got caught behind two more crashes, bringing my weekend to a disappointing end. I guess I'm lucky to have stayed upright throughout all the flying people and bicycles I encountered, but I'm more frustrated than anything. It was, however, really cool to watch Kevin Severs ride with the pros on Monday. He did a great job, and when I talked to him after he had this to say: "It didn't feel like it was all that hard, but when I looked at my computer readout, my average heart rate was 193." It had been awesome to watch him go from a new rider to a category two, and I can't wait to see if he is able to make it at the highest levels.
So I got back late Monday, spent most of the rest of the week either at work, on the bike, or asleep, and am back at it now with some time to write. Nothing important going on this weekend though, so things should be back on schedule for next week. The whole Monday being a holiday thing just messed things up a bit, since I still had to work two days and rode my bike enough to leave me too exhausted to try any late-night catchup on blogging.
