Georgia on My Mind

There were a lot of highlights from the trip. We had dinner with old friends from the neighborhood who had moved down a couple years ago. It was good to see them, and you forget how quickly kids can grow in the time.

We went to Stone Mountain in Georgia, and they had a laser show at the end of the evening. Stone Mountain is this huge rock that is carved with the heroes of the Confederacy: Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson, and Jefferson Davis.


There is also a sky lift that takes people to the top of the mountain. Little Fish is afraid of heights, but she decided it was going to be her week of facing things that made her afraid.

She was a little freaked out going up, but within 10 minutes of being at the top she pretty much PWNED it.


Princess of the World...

The laser show was interesting. It's easy to forget that the War of Northern Aggression (you might call it the Civil War) is still being fought in some areas of the world, but not Stone Mountain Georgia. It was a fireworks display and laser-lights presentation of all-things-Southern in general, and Georgia in particular: fast cars, Charlie Daniels Band, the South will rise again(!), Midnight Train to Georgia, the Yellow Jackets and Bulldogs, and Georgia on My Mind. I was starting to get a little worried when people started "hootin' and hollerin'" as the three figures on the face of the mountain were lit up and animated. But then they closed with an Americana piece and that drew the largest response, so I figured we'd be safe...


We also saw Margaret Mitchell's house, and did the Gone With the Wind scene.

Little Fish had her first Shirley Temple.

We adopted a new family member: ZIPS!

A great time was had by all...




The best thing I came away with is that kids who stutter grow up fine, sometimes even better because of it. The teenagers I met had been through the ringer, but had found support, made friendships, and gained understanding of themselves and others. As a parent, you just want the best for your kids. I wanted some assurances that stuttering was not going to hold Little Fish back, because it hasn't so far. I got that at the conference.

NSA in the ATL

We arrived at the Sheraton where the National Stuttering Association conference was being held. It's a beautiful hotel with a really nice pool and comfy beds with a nice bounce-factor for jumping on them with one's daughter...if one were so inclined to do such a thing.



We also registered for the conference, with young women who stuttered. It was then that it occurred to me that the only person I have really heard who stutters is my daughter. I know it's why we went to the conference, but it was pretty amazing to be in the presence of so many people that were just like Little Fish.

Mrs. Fish signed us up for some cool activities, and the first night was going to a Braves game. When we got to Turner Field, the Nationals were taking batting practice, so Little Fish and I went down to the fence. While we were there, this young teen came up and started talking to us, stuttering. He explained he was at the conference from New Orleans, and had been coming for several years. I really enjoyed speaking with him, and we talked about his city, the conference and lots of other things. I admired his poise and the ease with which he spoke to me, not from a stuttering point of view, but for his confidence.

Little Fish and I live charmed lives. We both realize it, but I don't think she realizes that it's not necessarily supposed to be that way. When we are going someplace crowded, I almost invarably get a parking spot really close. When we stayed in a hotel in Philadelphia they sent a cheese and fruit platter up to the room. So imagine her diasappointment when we didn't get a ball in BP. Furthermore, one Nationals player was teasing the home crowd by tossing the balls up but not clearing the fence. Very funny.

Like any ballpark, there are activities between innings. Around the fourth inning there was a t-shirt cannon. The Braves Girls walked around and shot t-shirts into the stands...and I CAUGHT ONE! Little Fish accepted this as a gift of cosmic kharma and as simply her lot in charmed life.


We had a great time talking to conference goers, taking in the sites at the ball park (including one of my favorites, Jonny Bravo) and just being together at the ballpark, though the hot dogs were not very good. How do you have a ballpark with bad hotdogs?


Oh yeah. The home team drubbed the Nationals 13-0. Who's laughing now?

The Fishers Went Down to Georgia

My daughter stutters. It's a strange thing, because there is not a lot known about it, what causes it, why some people just lose the stutter, and why some have a much harder time with it. It's harder for Little Fish, I think, becasue she is the only kid in her school who stutters, adn the kids she has met who stutter are all boys. That makes a difference for a nine year old.

So when we found out the National Stuttering Association was having it's annual conference in Atlanta, we asked Little Fish if she wanted to go. Road Trip? Hotel stays? Swimming pools? AND girls who stutter? She pushed the chips forward and declared she was "All in."

The primary message of the NSA is this: If you stutter, you are not alone. It's a powwerful message because I think a lot of people who stutter think they are alone...like my kid.

Road Trip!
My family loves road trips, my daughter perhaps the most. So we loaded up the Fishmobile and headed south. Along the way we passed Blacksburg Virginia, home of the Virginia Tech Hokies, where my brother went to school. It was a little wierd, after everything that happened, and I said a prayer for the people there.

We planned a stop around halfway, which for us was Concord, North Carolina. We got to the hotel and it was completely decked out in NASCAR gear, which was donated by Hendrick Racing, one of the biggest names in the sport. I'm not a racing fan, so it was just so-so (think: meh) for me, but the hotel was very nice, spacious and comfrtable. Little Fish and I had to do the check...we have a tradition of testing the beds by jumping on them, a tradition which we have follwoed in every single hotel we have ever visited. My wife just sadly shakes her head...but she still snaps the pictures.



Little Fish and I also availed ourselves of the hottub, which was awesome. Since the crash, I find that I get stiff after about two hours in the car, so I have to get out and stretch. Seven hours in the car has greater effect, so the hottub was just what the doctor ordered. Little Fish just likes the bubbles.

We had a good night's stay, I woke up and worked out, then we went down to a HUGE complimentary breakfast spread. An observation: The service in the South is quite a bit slower, but people are so nice I don't mind spending extra time with them. Then it was time to get on the road.

One of the things I love about road trips is the strange things you see in the landscape. Towering dinosaurs, cows on the tops of buildings, huge mexicans with enormous sombreros come to mind from previous trips. This trip's highlight(?) was the Giant Peach-butt.


And then we finally reached the ATL, that magical land where I could say "YES!" when my daughter asked, "Are we there yet?"

Out of Pocket for a Bit...

Be good, keep your chin up, your eyes open and your powder dry. Peace be with you, my friends...

Relay for Life

My sister-in-law, Sara, has been involved in Relay for Life and other events associated with the American Cancer Society for several years. She asked me to do an event last year, but it was still way too close to my surgery and radiation treatments, and getting hit by a pickup truck while riding my bike put the final kibosh on that possibility.

Still, I knew there would be other opportunities, and perhaps the perspective gained by time and distance would give me an increased wisdom. So when she asked me to speak at a dinner to the organizers of her Relay for Life event, I said, "Yes!" I spoke to a room of about 60 organizers, the people who put the boots on the ground for this kind of event. It was a great event, and a fantastic opportunity to say thank you to the people who have funded the research that kept me alive.

At some point, someone asked Sara (or Sara simply took it upon herself, more likely) if I would speak at the actual Relay for Life event, as the Survivor Speaker. There is a tradition that a survivor tells his or her story to help kick off the event. I was unbelievably touched, and honored, and of course I said yes.

If you've never been to one, it's a 24-hour team event that encourages people to raise money, and have a team member walking for the full 24 hours to raise money for cancer research. I got to the event and it was HOT. VERY HOT. Still, at least it wasn't raining. I met up with Sara as well as many of the organizers whom I had met at the dinner. I was immediately greeted as a family member, and the warmth of that experience, those people will remain with me forever. It's a unique brotherhood/sisterhood, to be certain. The event kicked off with The Star Spangled Banner and a prayer, then it was my turn to speak. It was a little daunting to speak in front of 400+ people (one estimate was 600+) and the topic had me choked up in several parts, especially when I talked about my family. Still, I could feel the support there, almost tangible.

After I spoke, a doctor spoke about his experiences, then a sweet little girl sang America the Beautiful. I saw her later and she said, "YOU'RE THE GUY THAT TALKED ABOUT SURVIVING CANCER!" I said, "Yes, and you're the girl who sang so beautifully--thank you!" We both smiled and walked on...

Then it was time for the official kickoff to the event, where everyone walks a lap of the track, led by the survivors. It sounds almost corny, typing it out, but it makes me tear up, even now, just thinking about it, side by side with people who have survived cancer, being led by two children, survivors, carrying the ACS banner. Behind us were family, friends, organizers and countless people who are just sick of this disease killing people.

Because she had me there, Sara was determined to maximize my capabilities at every point she could. Another tradition is for teams to design their tent around a theme. Some teams were just getting started, others were obviously more organized and elaborate in their presentations. I knew which one was the winner as soon as I saw it: Rocky Balboa. They had a ring with staged battles between The Champ and cancer, a ring card that counted the hours down like rounds, signposts to all of the best (read as: my favorite) spots in Philadelphia. In short, it was awesome. WINNER!

It was almost time for me to go, but there remained one more thing I wanted to be a part of. There is a remembrance walk as the sun begins to fade. The sun went down and they lighted luminaries around the track, some "In Memory of..." others "In Honor of..." I found mine, donated by Sara, on a bleacher, spelling out the word HOPE into the night. It seemed the right place to be for me...

Shawna Gibson...

...you are an Ironman! I just read Shawna's amazing story. You might want to file it away for the next time you think you can't do something. Read it HERE.

WOW...just...WOW

My friend Michael found this one.

My Next Big Challenge

As many of you know, on August 14, 2006 I was diagnosed with testicular cancer. On that day, I became not a cancer victim, but a cancer survivor. I get to live my life today as the result of a lot of people.

When I was first diagnosed, I was afraid, unsure, wondering what was going to happen to me. I realized quickly that knowledge is power, and I went to sites like the American Cancer Society, The Testicular Cancer Research Center, and the National Cancer Institute. But the place I turned to first was the one that was most obvious for a cyclist with testicular cancer: The Lance Armstrong Foundation.

The LAF gave me a guide to tracking my cancer (FREE HERE!), resources, answers to my questions, and most importantly, immediate hope that I was a survivor. I realized I probably wouldn't win the Tour de France and I'm in love with Mrs. Fish so dating a rock star was out, but the hope that I could survive cancer was my light.

I fought cancer with everything I had, with the love and strength of my family, the devotion of my friends, the knowledge of my doctors and their staffs, and the experiences of the millions who have gone before me with this disease. My hope, my prayer is that one day we can live in a world without cancer. People ask where the money in cancer research has gone: less than 30 years ago, the testicular cancer I had was a death sentence. Now, because of research and science, there is a 95% survival rate.

That's why I have become a Team Captain for the LiveSTRONG Challenge in Philadelphia, this year. Team Fish or Cut Bait is riding out of Philadelphia on August 26th, a shade over one year from the day I became a cancer survivor. I would love it if you would become part of team Fish or Cut Bait. There are several ways you can do this.

First, you can ride WITH us. There are rides ranging from 10 miles to 100 miles, with options in between. You can go HERE and click Join Our Team at the top of the page. I would love it if you could join me in Philadelphia on that day!

Second, you can walk/run 5k as part of Team Fish or Cut Bait. Not everybody can ride 10 miles, so the LAF has a family walk option. Again, click HERE and go to the registration page to sign up as part of my team for the walk.

Third, you can support Team Fish or Cut Bait by MAKING A DONATION. There is an option, when you make a donation, to do so in someone's honor. It would be my honor to ride in the name of someone you love.

Thank you for the kindness, love and support you have always shown me. I have learned so much from my cancer experience. This is the one that occurs to me now: Find the courage you need to face your challenges, the strength you need to overcome them, and the dignity to do it with grace.

Blaze of Glory...

Jon "Blazeman" Blais died on Sunday. Unless you are a triathlete, you probably don't know who he is. He was a special education teacher who contracted ALS, Lou Gehrig's Disease. In 2005, he finished what is probably the greatest challenge know to man: The IronMan in Hawaii.

When I first became interested in Triathlons, I saw Jon's story and I knew I was hooked. What I realized, watching him, is that this sport is about more than overcoming adversity, more than pushing your body to new limits. It is about finding yourself.

Jon did. I am. I think his website gets it right: The world is a better place because Jon was in it. Godspeed, Blazeman.

Little Fish Wisdom

So I'm watching golf with my dad and Little Fish this weekend. A golf club commercial comes on for the latest-greatest driver-of-the-week. I asked Little Fish what she would name a new driver, designed to set the course on fire.

Without even missing a beat, she replied, "The Whip."

Awfully good. World, meet the next great advertising genius.

Triathlete Humor (Humour to our International Readers)

A man was out jogging in the forest one day when a frog called out to him and said, "If you kiss me I'll turn into a beautiful princess." He bent over, picked up the frog, and put it in his pocket.

The frog spoke up again and said, "If you kiss me and turn me back into a beautiful princess, I will tell everyone how smart and brave you are and how you are my hero." The man took the frog out of his pocket, smiled at it, and returned it to his pocket.

The frog spoke up again and said, "If you kiss me and turn me back into a beautiful princess, I'll stay with you for a year and do ANYTHING you want." Again the man took the frog out of his pocket, smiled at it, and put it back into his pocket.

Finally the frog asked, "What's the matter? I've told you I'm a beautiful princess, that I'll stay with you for a year and do anything you want. Why won't you kiss me?"

The man replied, "Look, I'm a Triathlete. I don't have time for a girlfriend, but a talking frog is cool."

Got the Nerve? Race Report

Getting There
I woke up at 5 am without the alarm...it was a function of having a two glasses of wine with dinner (I don't think I'll do that again, though...) and going to bed early the night before (around ten o'clock). I had laid out my transition area, so I knew how everything should look and that I had everything. I stopped for a coffee on the way out at Tom's convenience store. I was going to stop at McDonald's, but thought there was more windows at the Tom's so I could see my bike while inside (drive-through at McD's was crowded and I thought it would be a good time to use the facilities quickly as well). Well the bathroom was great, but the coffee tasted like burned monkey butt. Today's thought: Plan your race, race your plan. If you plan on the known quantity of McDonald's coffee, go with that. It's a small thing, butt still, monkey-butt coffee is not the way to start race day.

Pre-Race
It was a clear, warm early Summer day. I arrived at the site about 6.40 and off loaded my gear and bike. I walked down to the race area and was surprised by how crowded it was. That being said, it was also very well organized, with all of the volunteers knowing exactly how things should go, where people should be, and how to run things most efficiently. This race is organized by Chris Kaag, a retired US Marine, and his background shows in the way this event is run: Ship-top-shape all the way.

I work with a woman whose husband did a marathon last year. He got himself roped into when a friend of his said, "Why don't you come down and watch me?" So I was talking to Kurt about Got the Nerve and I said, "Why don't you come out and watch me." Game on. he e-mailed me back that he registered. Coolness. I was wondering, given how crowded it was, how the heck I was going to find him. I racked my bike, went to buy a race belt and walked back...and there was Kurt, standing at my rack, which also turned out to be his rack. Six-hundred competitors and his bike was racked 7 down from mine. Weird...but cool. So we talked about plans, and the race--I could tell he was stoked, a little nervous about the swim, but ready to go. I remembered the enthusiasm, anticipation and nervousness of my first race. I could have dispelled some of that for him, and debated it for a bit, then decided to let him be a little anxious--it's good for you. It keeps you sharp, and he was ready.

We gathered for the race instructions, but they were pretty much impossible to hear, like the teachers in Charlie Brown. "Wamp, wamp-wamp, wammmmmp." Yes, we'll swim and not drown. "Wamp wammp?" And bike safely. "Wamp-wamp, waaaaammmmmmp." And run until our legs fall off. As loud as it was for the pre-race discussion, when the Star-Spangled Banner was sung, the whole area fell into a hush so deep you'd swear you were in a Midwestern meadow with only the woman singing. It was beautifully done.

Then it was time to move off to the swim area, and like the gladiators of Rome we filed off single file through the cheering crowd to our arena: Mt. Gretna Lake.

The Swim
I braced myself for the water temperature, waded in and....it was WARM? What the...? I jumped in and swam out. It was still warm. Did I have a shot of brandy before starting? I didn't think so. So the water was actually warm, one guy said 74 degrees. Oh sweet mercy, this was the best news yet!

I had heard the swim was 500 yards, not 400 like previous years. That meant one of two things: either they had lengthened the swim, or they had mismeasured how far it was and now were making it right on the official card. It was, of course, the former. Also, it was in reverse direction this year. Oddly, neither of these developments fazed me. Kurt thought it was pretty funny, but I explained it was the Lance Effect. "Their just trying to Rob-Proof the course, make it harder so I don't win. You know, like an individual time-trial up Alpe d'Huez. They lengthen the swim because it's my hardest event."

After jumping in, I actually thought about going without my wetsuit. It's a Body Glove shortie (short-sleeved, short legged) and it restricts my arms a little at the top of the stroke, increasing my fatigue on the swim. Then I remembered: plan your race, race your plan. I left it on. I swam a bit to get the motion and felt REALLY confident and good: strong and smooth through the stroke. This was unusual, as I only had one day a week to practice, but I tried to make the most of those, focusing on form more than speed or power.

It was time for our heat to go, and we waded into the water. I put myself in the middle of the pack, a sign of how confident I was feeling, and the countdown began. The horn sounded and WE WERE OFF! The course was an inverted triangle, and I planned to go out easy to the first buoy, go up a notch on the top of the triangle and then see what I had left at the end. I started off nice and easy, but found myself staying with the pack. Was I going out too fast? I didn't think so. I just felt natural. Stroke, stroke, breathe. Stroke, stroke, breathe. I remember thinking to keep my chin down which leveled my body in the water, and also to use the entire stroke, and not waste anything (thanks Steve!). Stroke, stroke, breathe.

It occurred to me that I could learn to breathe bilaterally and do even better. I wasn't going to do it this time (plan your race, race your plan) but I have set it as a goal. I could get a more efficient and lengthy stroke between breaths. Next time! Until then: Stroke, stroke, breathe.

I turned around the first buoy and begin to swim across the top of the triangle. Then, I do the impossible. I begin to PASS people from the PREVIOUS HEAT (they started with a 3 minute head start)! I'm still freestyling and waiting for the fatigue to catch up, to kick in, to slow me down. Stroke, stroke, breathe. It doesn't come as I head for the last turn, where I will make my way back to the beach. Stroke, stroke, breathe. The bulk of my pack has pulled away from me, then I catch people from TWO HEATS ahead of me--they had a SIX-MINUTE head start! I am lean in the water, slippery, like a fish.

As I head for home, I still wonder where the fatigue is. It occurs to me that I will not falter. I will freestyle the entire 500 yards, finishing as a swimmer. Finally, I look down and see the bottom. I "site" the buoy and realize I have have 50 yards to go. I finish the swim, feeling like I could have done another 500 yards...easily. It is an INCREDIBLE feeling. I now realize I can be a strong swimmer, with work and practice.

I feel better about this swim than any I have had in my life. Ever.

Goal: 15.00
Actual: 13.04
Overall: 342/600
Age Group:40/53

Transition 1
I walked/ran to my bike. In the future, I will run faster, recognizing I have the ability to rest while I get my shoes, helmet, and glasses on. I eschewed (yes Eric, Good Word: +1 from Dr. Robert Johnson) socks and was glad I did--much quicker and no less comfortable. The run out for the bike was on the opposite end of where I was racked with my bike. They had assigned rack places this year and I drew the short straw. Whatever. I geared up quickly and got going.

It was then I heard my daughter yelling, "GO DADDY!" and my wife cheering for me. It's actually kind of cool to be able to pick out Mrs. Fish's voice, my daughter's. It's also amazingly uplifting. My mom and dad came in from Jersey to see the race and I heard my dad, and my mother's Irish brogue above the crowd screaming for me. It was amazing. I hopped on the bike and went.

Goal: 1.45
Actual: 2.00
Overall: 152/600
Age Group: 17/53


The Bike

The bike course offers a quarter mile downhill respite before Pinch Road. Pinch road offers and steep climb of more than 350 feet right after the swim. It is most decidedly not for the faint of heart. I was worried about this because with my new bike, I had a double chain ring in the front, instead of a triple which makes climbing hill a lot easier.

I was prepared to go to lactate threshold, a period identified by the buildup of lactate, most notably in the legs. The primary symptom of reaching LT is an intense burning like the brands of hell being applied directly to one's thighs. I was NOT looking forward to this, but had accepted it as my lot. I got up a good head of steam and hit the hill.

I started up, realizing that there is a flat spot about half way up, where you can catch your breath for about 15 feet. I hit it hard and my legs started to burn. I ground it out and reached the flat spot, feeling good about where I was. Then I attacked the last part of the hill, rising out of the saddle to adjust my position once, then settling in to the grind and the burn. It felt good. Bad. But good. If you ride, or work hard in anything you do, you know what I mean. if not, I could never even attempt to explain it.

I BOMBED THE BACK HALF OF THE HILL!!! I was flying...a later computer readout confirmed 51.8 miles per hour. The back of the ride was a blur. I passed and was passed. My legs felt dead on the ride, though. I knew I was in trouble. I couldn't seem to wake them up. It was so frustrating, because I knew I could be riding stronger than this. In hindsight, I would have spun as part of my pre-race routine. NEXT TIME! I needed to do something to make up time and ground.

I couldn't ride stronger, so I had to ride smarter. I developed a strategy of stalking riders on the rolling hills. I made up my mind to pass them on the downhill. Then I would attack a bit on the uphill, to separate myself further in an attempt to frustrate and demoralize them. It worked. I'm not patenting it, but I surely am remembering it. I was still lamenting my dead legs, though, this act of will notwithstanding.

At the end of the bike course are two hills, the first a sharp 200 foot climb, the second a long, slow climb of 150 feet over two miles. I realized I could make some ground on the competition by passing them on the hills. I hit the first hill and felt something. A zing. something in my legs came alive. It was GO TIME, BABY. I hit the hill like Lazarus, risen from the dead. I passed A LOT of riders on that hill, bombed the back side (40 and change), then got ready for the next steady climb.

There was electricity in my legs now. I looked to the right and saw a sign, nailed to a tree. ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE it read. Inspirational to the average reader, but I knew the rest. Matthew 19.26: With God, all things are possible. I looked ahead and saw riders. I knew I was going to catch them--my stroke was clean, driving, lifting, circling in a clean, pure motion. I had found it. ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE. I passed a lot of riders on that hill. At one point I looked down and was doing 20 miles per hour. Solo. Uphill! I hit the last part of the downhill, then cruised into the transition area.

I can only wonder what my time would have been had my legs felt as good at the beginning as they did at the end.

Goal: 53.00
Actual: 49.40...18.1 miles per hour
Overall: 179/600
Age Group: 35/53

Transition 2
I had to dismount at the front of the area, then run all the way to the back in my cycling shoes. Totally teh suxxor, but still, it was what it was. Racked my bike, dropped down, shoes off, runners on, spritz the head with water and I was off.

Goal: 1.30
Actual: 1.25
Overall: 327/600
Age Group: 39/53

The Run

Linguine legs...only, not as bad as last year. The couple of bricks I did, I focused on fighting this off. I started off with the wobblies, but (TRAINING!!!) got my legs under me quickly. I made the exit from the T2 area and saw Nate from World Cup Ski and Cycle coming in. He had the strength to encourage me, and told me that I was almost done. In one sense, he was right, in another, soooo wrong. I was just getting started on the run, and it was HOT out.

There were the typical runners, and I knew they would pass me. They did. I was passed by a guy with a 44 (age) on his calf, and then a guy with a 39 on his calf. I determined to push a little and run with them, even though I knew I was running downhill the first half of the run. It's a tough course because it's an out and back rail trail; the first thirty steps in the trail portion look the same as every other step in the run, which made it hard to gauge just where I was.

I also knew Kurt, with his marathon background, was lurking back there somewhere. Shortly after I made the turn, Kurt was there. I wasn't hurting as bad as I thought I would be. I picked it up a little to stave him off a bit. It was just a matter of time, but I wanted to make him earn it. I saw a bright spot on the course, and I knew it was the opening that meant I was approaching the home stretch. Kurt still hadn't caught me.

I hit the tarmac, and I heard a voice behind me. "Rob. Triathlete." I knew it was Kurt. He passed me with about 600 yards to go. I ran on. I wanted to finish strong, finish well. I could see Kurt up ahead. Then, he did something inexplicable. He slowed down. I picked it up and ran up next to him. "Finish strong, brother," I said...as I passed him. He had a choice. Finish strong and work to pass me back, or quit and know that I beat him. He kicked it back and passed me. I didn't have enough in the tank to pass him again, but I'm glad I made him work. Well done, Kurt (DAMN YOU!!!).

As I was coming in to the last 400 yards, there were three guys. Two were in my age group, and the third was 28. "I can do this", I thought. I sprinted past the first guy, then the 28 year-old then the last guy, clearing them out at the end. I heard my daughter yell for her "DADDY!!!" as I finished. There is NOT a sweeter sound in the whole world.

By age group, my best event was the run. Huge ups to to my friend Scout who gave me the confidence that I could be a good runner. Now, I want to be a STRONG runner!

Goal: 29.59
Actual: 27.39...8.55/mile (Yeah Scout!!!!)
Overall: 241/600
Age Group: 32/53


Me, on the left, with my new nemesis, Kurt.

Totals
Goal: 1.41.13
Actual: 1.33.48
Overall: 213/600
Age Group: 35/53


Reflections
This was my first race since being diagnosed with cancer (ironically, it occurred to me, somewhere on the course, that I was probably competing last year with full-blown testicular cancer...kind of crazy). It was my first race since getting run over in my hit and run by a pickup truck. It was my first real training-based raced, where I had prepared for my race by focusing my training. I have work to do, but I have done a lot of training, and worked through things that have debilitated or destroyed others.

All Things are Possible.

I want to do a longer race--Olympic distance. Next year, I'd like to do a Half IronMan. Two years from now, a full IronMan. I think I am building the foundation to do this.

What Would I Do Differently?
Not have two glasses of wine the night before competition.
Spin on my bike before the race.

Team Fish
I couldn't do this without my support team. First and foremost, a HUGE thanks to Mrs. Fish, who puts up with the alarm clock going off at 5.30 in the morning. And my late night runs. And my cycling. And my really strange eating habits. And who bought me the coolest bike jersey in my collection. I love you.

Big Thanks go to Little Fish, who is always encouraging, always smiling, and always out there screaming for her "Daddy!!!"

This year, I also have to thank Mom and Dad for coming up to cheer me on. It really meant a lot to have them here with me.
And thanks to all of you who have encouraged me, kicked me in the butt or just gave me a mad shout. My friends, family, church, work buddies and the BT and JP families.

It means the world to me.

Got the Nerve?

I have my triathlon tomorrow. I think I am ready. I've done a good job on the bike and put in some extra miles running. What? Oh, there's swimming, too? Huh. That could be a problem. Actually, I got over to the community pool a couple of times as well (they have community swim on Mondays only) and worked on my technique and pull a little, so I shouldn't drown. I say shouldn't because there has been an unusually long cold snap in this region of the country, and I know that water is going to be COLD. It's always been a little chilly, but I suspect this year will be something to behold.

Armed Forces Day

Just wanted to send a HUGE THANKS out to the men (including my friend Eric) and women of our Armed Forces--thank you so much!!!! Here's your flyover!

Pure Comedic Gold...

...if you like those safety films we "of a certain generation" were forced to watch...

Self-PWNED!!!

If it's wrong to think this is funny, I don't want to be right....

Morning Runs

I went for a run the last couple of mornings, very early. Things have started to change, with the season. It was warm enough to start the run in shorts yesterday, and I took off the long-sleeved shirt I was wearing when I got to the house, before my last loop and cool-down. Weird to be running in shorts and short sleeves, but it feels good.

Last night, we had violent storms. I think a neighbor's house actually got hit by lightning. All of the moisture from those storms sat, and made for a very soupy morning. It was a low-lying fog that made the air thick, thicker than it's been in a long time. I could feel its weight in my lungs. When cars drove by, the air held the exhaust, adding to the choking smell and feel of the morning. I also noticed that the early season flowers and trees, the magnolias that dotted my run and added to the aroma of my experience, have given way to the smell of tanbark and mulch. It's earthier, not altogether unpleasant, but I do miss the bright, airy, sweet smells of the magnolias in bloom.

On a brighter note, my azaleas are now in full bloom. Though I can't smell them, they're beautiful.

Fashion Trifecta...

I hit the Fashion Trifecta at the Chinese Buffet tonight. He was wearing jorts and sporting a mullet (SEE ALSO) while she proudly hiked her jeans up under her bosom for the classic MOM JEAN LOOK. I honestly don't know how I am ever going to top it.

Cycling...

I liked this one as much for the music as the video.

Prayers...

I did a brick yesterday, which in triathlon parlance means that I combined two events into a single workout, in this case a 21 mile bike ride with a 2.2 mile run. I mentioned a couple of days ago that I sometimes use these instances to pray, to seek a deeper understanding with God; I used to use it (a lot) for when I was angry, particularly with God.

Yesterday, my friends Kathy (with whom I went to Belarus) and Gene lost their 16-year-old son, Donald, in a one-car accident. The details are still sketchy. It was, apparently, the first time Kathy had let her son out of the house to go for a drive with his friends. Mere words alone cannot express what I am feeling and thinking, but I spent a lot of time on my run praying for them. If you are in the habit of praying, please take a moment to lift them up.

I also spent some time thinking and praying about Logan, the grandson of my friend Roger. Logan was born with Cerebral Palsy and a host of other medical complications. It has been a long and twisted road, but Roger's faith keeps him upright (I honestly don't know how he does what he does most days) as does his family's, and they inspire me. More so, Logan is a fighter. I kept seeing that "Little Guy" on yesterday's run, and every time I thought about quitting I remembered him and how hard he fights. He is back in the hospital this week because he wasn't able to eat on his own. He is starting to eat again and indications are he is going to be okay and is getting what he needs. But again, if you pray, take a moment to lift up Logan and his family.

Thinking about all of this, I picked up my pace. I hurt. I thought about Kathy's pain and Logan's fight, and asked God to give them understanding. He told me there would not necessarily be understanding, because there is no way to understand things like this. I asked Him for healing for Kathy and Gene and their family, and for continued strength for Logan and his family, and that seemed to be the right thing to be asking for. There were a lot of other things that I thought about, felt, said on this run. Anyway, this was a pain run, where I pushed hard, but the pushing felt good. The pain felt good.

Tour de Donut...

A friend of a friend started The Veloist, a site that has video productions of and by cyclists, a place to talk about biking and some other cool features. My friend Q also sent along this video, of the Tour de Donut. Where do I sign up?

12 Second Swim

I logged a 12 second swim in my training journal on Sunday. My neighbor Bob opened his pool, and I got the call, as per tradition, to Christen it. Here in Central PA, an April opening always means chilly water temperatures. This year's late season cold snap means it was even more so. So I donned my suit, grabbed my towel and walked over, knowing it was probably going to be a little extra chilly. I took a look at the pool. It just looked cold.


"Ummmm. Bob. What's the temperature in there?"
"45."
"Fahrenheit?"
"Yeah."
"Okay."

Mrs. Fish came over to witness the event/carnage and asked, "How cold is it?"
"Oh-my-GOD degrees," I said.
"Seriously," she asked.
I replied, "I was being serious....It's 46."
"Fahrenheit?"
"Yeah."
"Oh My GOD."



The bad thing is that part of the tradition is for a third neighbor, Joe, to come over and jump in with us. Joe was late, which gave Bob and me time to sit and think about it. And dip our toes in. And examine the bluish tinge they took on. Eventually, Joe showed up, much to the joy of my daughter, and he brought a shot of liquid courage, much to the joy of Bob and me.


Bottoms Up!


Another good shot of Little Fish, jumping in. She was amused by the whole thing, most specifically the stupidity of boys. This event never fails to confirm her suspicions about said stupidity.


I checked the water temperature again. It had warmed up to 46!
One....

Two...

You'll have to take my word for three. Mrs. Fish didn't snap any pictures of us hitting the water or swimming back and forth across the pool. I think she was trying to locate the skimming net, in case she needed to fish one of our carcasses out of the ice bowl. I'm pretty sure it was one of my faster splits, and getting out of the pool, the first thing I mentioned was the temperature of the water: OH MY GOD!


Still, a good time was had by all, nobody died, and we had a couple of shots, so everyone retired a winner. Good day. See you again next April.

Saw it was...

...time for a change. Blogger has some cool features that let you toy with the look of your blog, so I thought I'd "explore the space" a little. Indulge me, if you will...

Local Bike Shop

If you cycle, and you have a local bike shop that you love, then stories like this are well known to you. I dropped my bike today at World Cup Ski and Cycle for a tuneup (front derailleur isn't as crisp as i want it and overshifts in the big gear), new bar tape, a computer wiring and a new seatpost (set back farther because I have a longer femur and it postions me in the saddle better). In dropping the bike off, I said to the guy that I had a triathlon coming up, so if he could possibly get it done by Saturday, that would be great. He replied that they were backed up, and it might take as long as until Sunday or Monday.

I just got a call and the bike is going to be ready to go at 8.15. The shop closes at 8.00. They jumped me into the line, and are going to work a little later to get me done and back on the bike. now THAT is service, and it's why i shop there, and send people who are looking to buy bikes there.

Swim Night...

I went over to the local middle school for a swim on community night. It was most definitely community pool night. There were loud, screaming kids as far as the eye could see/ear could hear. I could not believe how LOUD it was

They had one lane of the pool set aside for lap swimmers. When I got there, there was one other woman in the swim lane. As I walked over there, three kids from a local Boy Scout Troop hopped in. This, I was sure, was going to be "the suxxor." The kids kept swimming into me and the other woman, until I figured out a way to go around them. At first, I was pretty annoyed, but then I thought about how tough it was to keep focused; and how I hated getting bumped into while swimming, and how I had to keep my head up occasionally to look for other swimmers. It occurred to me that this was actually going to be a better practice for a triathlon than I had originally thought. I considered swimming on top of them or kicking them, just to make it thoroughly authentic, but decided against it.

It was good to get in the pool. I feel like I am not going to die, now. My goal for this triathlon has changed from surviving the swim to not embarrassing myself on the swim. Noble, I know.

Notes from the Road

I FINALLY got to spend some time in the saddle, riding my bike in warm weather and sunshine. I went out for an hour and a half on Saturday and another hour and ten today. All in all, I covered a little over 44 miles with 1700 feet of climbing. Fol owing, some observations:

It might be tempting when you come up to a station wagon and there is a kid in the back to wave or make a goofy face. But then you realize his parents are listening to Slayer...backwards...and you think better of it.

If you're a nurses with a shock of bright red curly hair, you should not wear polka dotted tunics...unless you work for Ringling Brothers.

I can deal with a headwind. But, when you deal with a headwind for half a ride, it is patently unfair for said wind to reverse direction at about the same time you do. It just is.

If the Spanish Inquisition had wanted to be successful, they would have given the Infidels bicycles and sent them out to attack hills. Think about it: you think it's pleasure, but it quickly turns to pain, you start talking to God, and if the hill is big enough, eventually you see Him.

In all honesty, I spent some good time with Him on these rides. On god rides, there comes a point where everything is clicking and your mind is free. I often turn my mind in those moments to God.

I saw a guy riding a Victory today. I caught up with him at the light (I'm not sure he was that happy about it) and told him I liked his bike. We chit-chatted for a bit and then he said he didn't think his bike was heavy enough to trip the light sensor. I showed him where to stop his light, on the sensors, and explained that they are magnetic. I don't think he got it. I wished him well and we went our separate ways.

I saw a guy with a Got the Nerve? t-shirt and told him I was going again this year. He said he hoped to seem me there.


The Susquehanna River is really quite beautiful. It's a little high and muddy right now, but it's a nice place to ride.

It's a bad idea to forget a water bottle. ALWAYS.

I still love my Cannondale!

VT Friday

For my brother, proud Virginia Tech graduate, and for Hokies everywhere....

I am sick and tired...

...of riding on a trainer...

...of being cooped up inside...

...of running in near-freezing temperatures in APRIL...

...of cycling in 35 mph winds.

Today I declared war on Mother nature, grabbed my hybrid and headed out. It started to sleet a little, along with the aforementioned 35+ mph winds. I decided to take a detour and LENGTHEN the ride. It ended up being a little over 6 miles, paltry by my usual standards, but much longer than I anticipated when i went out. I'm done with it!

Trainer Time...

I have decided there is very little that is as nind numbing in the world as time spent on a bicycle trainer. That having been said, it was an hour and fifteen minutes of saddle time that I would not have had yesterday, and at this point, in my shape, everything helps.

And, with a Nor'easter on its way in, the trainer may be an even bigger part of this week. ****sigh****

Group Ride

I went for a group ride on Tuesday, my first long ride on the new bike. It occurred to me how out of shape I am as I rode with a group of three B riders. The last time I rode with a B group, I actually led sections of the ride, pulling at the front for others. Not today. Not only was I barely able to keep up with them, but I was constantly getting shelled out the back on the hills. They were a good bunch of guys and took it easy on the downhills, allowing me to catch up, and even waited for me on a couple of occasions. Fortunately, I wasn't the only one who struggled that day. There was another guy who had a bit of a harder time too...but he is 66. Still, being on a bicycle is a good time to think about things.

STEVE
Last year, the Harrisburg Bicycle Club lost a good guy when Steve passed away from a heart attack, coming back from a ride to Cape May. When I first made the jump up to riding with the B level riders, Steve was the first person to approach me. He made me feel comfortable about making the jump and riding with them, which I will always remember and appreciate. I rode with Steve a lot in the last two years. He was always quick witted, funny, self-deprecating in the way that cyclists often are. Steve had the most unorthodox pedaling motion, hammering the poor things like Jan Ullrich in a fit of anger, pounding the pedals, the pavement into submission.

The four of us spent some time on the ride talking about Steve, reminiscing. I didn't know him well, didn't know him at all outside of cycling circles. But, what I did know was that he loved to ride, was always quick to help someone out, and never had anything bad to say about anyone. He always seemed to have a smile, enjoyed a cold beer at the end of a hard ride, and really loved to take his turn at the front and hammer all of us. I'll miss him.

Lefty
It was also my first long ride since losing "Lefty" to testicular cancer last August. At one point in my riding career, I wanted to be like Lance, but this is not exactly what I had in mind. Toward the end of the ride it was hard to get comfortable on the saddle. It's strange to think about a "lost boy" on my ride, but I did. I can still ride; I am blessed.

Accident
And, to hit the trifecta, it was also the first long ride since being run over by a truck last September. Again, the long layoff took my fitness on the bike down to zero. More than that, I spent a lot of time looking over my shoulder. One of the things that has happened since the accident is that I relive it. Not a lot, but I do. I see it all in my head, and it's hard to chase away. I've long since stopped trying, and now I just try to roll with it, going back through it like a moviegoer, except that at the crucial parts, I am in the movie. Sometimes it's a total reenactment, which isn't that bad. Other times it ends differently. Worse.

I liked being back out there. Having three other riders gave me some cushion, as people give a wide berth to packs of cyclists. Still, I spent a lot of time thinking about the accident. I watched cars and trucks coming up behind me, and I watched them pass me. I made sure they saw us, moved over a bit as they did so.

Conclusion
So, all in all, it was a bittersweet ride. I loved being out there, on my bike, riding again. It was a good way to say goodbye to Steve, to Lefty, and to hopefully begin to exorcise some monsters. I can't wait to get out again.

New Kicks

I haven't bought new running shoes in ages (read as 4+ years…yikes!). After my recent groin injury, it seemed like a logical first step. The logical second step will be increasing mobility and range of motion.

Anyway, I went to the local running store because it has been so long since I’ve bought shoes. The guy looked at my shoes then asked, “So, what are you running in now.”

“Ummmm…these,” I replied, indicating my Adidas runners from the 1940s. I could see he wanted to say, “No. really.” But he stopped himself.

“You know you should replace your shoes every 400-500 miles?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Well, let’s get those off and we’ll see what’s going on. After some discussion and observation, we determined that I was a little flat footed. This was news to me, because tradionally I have had a medium to high arch. I guess with age my arch has fallen. This was in keeping with what I believed. The higher arch-support on my shoes, coupled with my flatter arch was rolling my foot outward too far. I tried on five or six different shoes. The Aasics had a larger heel box that kept slipping (I was surprised by this), the Adidas had a small toe box (not good) and the Nikes were too narrow overall. I narrowed it down to the Brooks and the Reeboks, took both out for spins around the shopping center (at one point, one on each foot) and ended up choosing the Brooks GTS.

It’s a lot lighter than my old shoe, and the cushioning, while not as thick as the Adidas, was every bit as comfortable. Furthermore, I felt like my foot was striking more on the flat of the foot than the heel, and rebounding with a cleaner, softer roll of the foot.

Later that evening I went out and went for what I thought was a light run. My groin was feeling a little better, and I thought a gentle run might help stretch things out in a good way. Sure enough, things started to loosen up, and I felt the mobility returning to my hip. The tightness dissipated quickly as I continued forward. The hills were harder as it’s been a while since I hit them, but cruising on the flats seemed much easier. I came around the last turn for home and stretched out a little. No problems.

When I hit my watch at the end of the run, I could not believe what I saw. I had run my neighborhood route, covering 2.27 miles, in less than 20 minutes. I had to look twice. That's an 8.8 pace!!! That’s one of the fastest times I have posted on that route.

My hope was that I would feel that good in the morning. I finished with active stretching and a hot tub. I did feel better the next day.

Advertising

Propel is doing some funny ads right now. I'm not a fan of the product (just me) but these are really cool. CHECK THEM OUT HERE. I like the Stress Monster best, but maybe it's just because I love Pressure from Queen and David Bowie.

This one makes me smile...


And this one still makes me laugh...

Happy Easter!

One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: "Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?"

Jesus replied: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

Matthew 22:35-40

LiftSTRONG!

My friend Alwyn Cosgrove is one of the top fitness minds in the country, having written for men's Health and Men's Fitness magazine, as well as contributing to books, touring on the lecture circuit, coaching and running his own gym. In short, the man has probably forgotten more about fitness than you and I will ever learn...if he forgets anything he has learned.

On top of that, Alwyn has beaten cancer...twice! Because the man never rests on his laurels (or elsewhere, it seems) he brought to together the top names in the fitness, sports, and health professions to create an amazing resource of health, fitness, and training information. If you are into health, lifting, nutrition, fitness, or just about anything that touches these fields (or you want to be), this is a must-have resource. At over 800 pages, it will be an essential component to anyone's fitness and training library.

ALL of the proceeds from the LiftSTRONG project will go to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. In typical Alwyn fashion, he is picking up the tab for all of the production costs.

For more information, including a list of the authors and to order your copy go to LiftSTRONG.

Maiden Voyage

It was a beautiful spring evening, the kind that makes you glad you're alive, and that you own a bicycle. I snapped my helmet on(!!!) and clipped into the pedals. I took a quick spin up to talk to my daughter, who was playing with her friends on the swingset up the road. Then I turned around, hit my watch, and started pedaling.

It amazes me how well this bike responds. The transfer of power from thought to legs to pedals to bicyle is near-instantaneous. I rode down to the bottom of the street and hung a right turn, up the hill my daughter had successfully climbed several days earlier for the very first time. I switched into a lower gear and just rose up the hill. I was huffing a little at the top, (and I know this is a cliche') but this bike climbs like a...

I made the left, then the two rights that take me down by the local supermarket (Quality. Selection. Savings. Every Day.).

This is a flat stretch and the road just unwound in front of me. Cars passed me, giving me a wide berth; I have to admit I was pretty nervous, being out there for the first time since the hit and run. I spent a lot of time looking over my shoulder. There are some pretty bumpy stretches through there, but the bike just glided over them.

I came upon some road debris as I went down past the Highmark building; the Cannondale went everywhere I wanted it to go. As I hit the rolling hills, followed by a long climb to Holy Spirit Hospital (where I said a silent thanks to the doctors, nurses and king's horses and king's men who put me back together again) the bike just kept rising. Again, I realized how out of cycling shape I am, but the bike was way more than my equal. I was almost ashamed at how much I was holding it back.

I made the turn and went down some back roads into Lemoyne, then back into Camp Hill, made the loop on 21st Street, back past the hospital and headed for home. This gave me the opportunity to test the descending capabilities down some of these hills. It was like gliding on a razor blade. Everywhere I wanted to go, the bike just went. It's much "twitchier" than my old bike though not in a bad way. Perhaps "responsive" would be a better way to describe it. My turns were so much tighter on the C-dale.

I cruised into the driveway as the sun was dipping below the horizon. It was a twelve mile ride, over some fairly hilly terrain, that I (in spite of my out of cycling-shape self) managed to cover in 46 minutes. I was a little more than surprised when I calculated out a 15.7 mph average. It's not going to win me any races, but for where I was, I was more than just a little pleased.

I REALLY liked my old bike: Fievel was a steel Raleigh Professional with Shimano Ultegra compnents and he was smooth and sure as the day is long. But the Cannondale (as yet unnamed) is more than his equal in every category except components. The Raleigh was Ultegra, this is 105: the shifting isn't quite as crisp and exacting in the C-dale. The Cannondale climbs amazingly well with no shaking, torsion or waste of movement/power. It descends just as well, equally comfortable with wide sweeping arcs or quick adjustments to avoid junk on the road. The bike is stiff where you want it, with absolutely nothing lost in the translation of power to the pedals. This was especially true when I got up out of the saddle to make a light. In the saddle, the carbon fiber took over, evening out the road and giving me just enough feedback to let me know what was going on in the road (this is where the Look 555 lost me), but not so much that I felt like I had to pull over and readjust the fillings in my teeth (the Orbea Onix I tested made me feel like that).

So, all of that to say I LOVE MY CANNONDALE! Now, if I could shake this nagging groin injury, I would be really stoked to be back up in the saddle again....cold weather and all.

Reminder

Cannondale

Here are a couple of shots of the new bike, a Cannondale Six13 Team 3. I love it!

Tonight...WE RIDE!!!

I am going to pick up my bicycle today! I am soooo excited. I went over to World Cup Ski and Cycle (terrible website, excellent service!!!) on Tuesday and test road pretty much every bike in the shop. I narrowed it down to an Orbea Onix, which I decided was too stiff, despite the all carbon frame. The tighter weave made the feedback from the road a little harsh on my 40 year-old bones.

I also rode a beautiful Look 555, but it felt dead, the polar opposite of the Orbea. I was getting no feedback from the road at all. It felt sluggish in the turns and didn't transfer the power from the pedal to the bike very well. This really surprised me, as going in to the test rides, this was the frame I was looking forward to riding the most.

The Scott CR-1 also scored high. It was plush but responsive and had a smooth, easy feel about it. The styling on it is really sharp. I was sure this was the bike for me. There was a bike I rode early in the trials that i really liked, and I decided it would be good for a biko-a-biko test ride tournament. I took the Scott out one more time and liked it a lot...until I sat on the other bike.

I knew just noodling out of the parking lot this was going to be the winner. I hit the road. It was giving me feedback like my old steel bike, but not harshly like the Orbea. It was plush, but it wasn't "dead" like the Look. And the responsiveness through turns and up hills was just too much to ignore. I had found my winner; I had found my bike...in less than one hour, I am going to pick it up.

I will introduce you to my bike this weekend...

Video Triathlon????

My video-montage Ode to Triathlon...

"SWIM"


BIKE


RUN

The Running Man

I'm coming back to running more and more. I've been out twice this week already, in the early morning before dawn (especially now with the EDT shift), before the traffic and hustle-bustle of the world begins. I'm still not used to waking up at 5.30 like I did earlier this week. I'm less than used to rolling out of bed and getting ready to go for a run. But here's something I discovered. Once I get rolling, I forget why I wanted to stay in bed in the first place. Sure it's warm and cozy, but moving forward seems so much better than laying there, fretting about the coming day.

I've started reading Chi Running by Danny Dreyer. I haven't delved into it deeply, yet, but one of the things he advocates is "Body Sensing" or being more aware of your body, how it is moving and how you can alter your body, form etc. to improve your running and results. There is a constant flow of information to your brain about your body (more than it just screaming, "Why am I awake and why are trying to KILL ME???"). Your brain also has the ability to consciously and unconsciously send information back tot he body to improve what I am doing. I made a point of trying to be more in tune with my body and my surroundings this week and it really felt better.

On Tuesday, I felt I was going to loosen up well and run smoothly and I did. I was very fluid and felt strong going up hills. I noticed things more. My neighborhood has a smell to it of dryer sheets and fabric softener in the early morning. I thought it was my brain making fun of me, but it was definitely there. I noticed it again on Thursday's run. Speaking of Thursday's run, I woke up at about 6.15 and got going. I felt stiff and knew I was not going to set any speed records...so I didn't try. The other thing Dreyer talks about is "listening to your body" and letting the feedback you are receiving drive your running, as oposed to letting your ego drive. The ego in control, he says, leads to pain and injury. I'm inclined to agree with him.

I really like the Chi Running philosophy so far. I like being more in touch with my body. Before I started reading the book, the closest I came to "body sensing" was when nature called in the last quarter mile of a run. Fortunately, I am still running relatively short distances (5 miles and less) and didn't get caught out; I made it home without incident, but only barely. I mention this because I came across THIS STORY from Dave Milner, passed on by a friend, which has to be one of the more hysterical things I have read recently. It's not for the squeamish, but I split my sides reading it.

St. Patrick's Lorica (Morning Prayer)

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation.

I arise today
Through the strength of Christ's birth and His baptism,
Through the strength of His crucifixion and His burial,
Through the strength of His resurrection and His ascension,
Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.

I arise today
Through the strength of the love of cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In service of archangels,
In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In the prayers of patriarchs,
In preachings of the apostles,
In faiths of confessors,
In innocence of virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today
Through the strength of heaven;
Light of the sun,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of the wind,
Depth of the sea,
Stability of the earth,
Firmness of the rock.

I arise today
Through God's strength to pilot me;
God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's eye to look before me,
God's ear to hear me,
God's word to speak for me,
God's hand to guard me,
God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me,
God's hosts to save me
From snares of the devil,
From temptations of vices,
From every one who desires me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone or in a mulitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and evil,
Against every cruel merciless power that opposes my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom,
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of women and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.
Christ shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that reward may come to me in abundance.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through a confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation

St. Patrick (ca. 377)

This video...

...is just plain awesome! I love Christopher Walken, and Fat Boy Slim's Weapon of Choice is the Jam. Together, they're an unstoppable combination.

Warrior-Poet-Ironman

I've seen Jon Blais's story before, but I thought this was beautifully done. Enjoy...

Thoughts From the Road: Deadlifting

I've noted before, that as a salesperson on the road, I have moments where my mind wanders to some rather unusual places. This week I was coming back from visiting a client and I was sitting at a red light. The light turned green, but the cars from my left side kept coming through, with one car blocking the intersection in Secret Service style.

What struck me as the funeral procession rolled through the intersection and the shiny cars (people always clean their cars to go to a funeral) moved grimly past,was the enormity of the occupants of these cars. As a former larger guy (I used to roll at 220+ on a six-foot frame), I'm used to seeing larger people, and sometimes thinking, "It doesn't have to be like this. There's good help and good information out there."


My mind followed this thread. There are really large, out of shape people in this funeral, quite possibly going to bury their really large, possibly out of shape family member/friend. At some point, they had to get the body into the hearse, and from the hearse they will have to get it to the grave. How are they going to do it? If the corpse is extremely large, wouldn't they need to be MORE in shape just to lift said corpse. Or, they could use MORE PEOPLE, but that's a problem because they're so rotund they can't get more people around the coffin. I could not get my head around the conundrum. How does it work?

When I got home that night, I asked Mrs. Fish...she just shook her head, with the look of incredulity that asks the dual questions "How do you come up with this stuff?" and "Why are you asking ME this question?" at the same time. Guys. You know the look. Women. You know the feeling.

On my ride in the next day, I began thinking about this again. This was not a single, isolated incident. Surely these were not the only people to be faced with such a problem. As America gets fatter and ostensibly weaker, this is going to become more and more of a problem, not less and less of one. Already they are making oversized coffins (check out Goliath Coffins). But that only solves the problem of what to bury them in, not how to get them in the ground.

Then, I came upon a solution. Why not get the fitness community involved? Funeral directors could go to local gyms and create a Rent-A-Pallbearer system. The training would be simple and the work could be part of the lifter's routine...it's win-win. Furthermore, the bereaved could be doubly assured: First, their beloved would be treated with dignity and respect. He or she would be carried and laid to rest without the awkwardness of the grunt/scream when the lift begins (again, the training program for the lifters would emphasize a no grunting practice) or worse, the dropping of the casket and it's inhabitant before it reaches it's final resting place. Second, the Rent-A-Pallbearer system minimizes the even worse scenario of a person dying while lifting the corpse.

So there you have it. I told you my mind went to some pretty strange places while I am on the road.

Mary...update

I went to see Mary at the hospital on Friday. She was doing really well, and is recovering from her heart attacks (2!). She is complaining of shortness of breath, but has been told that is normal at this stage. She expects to be released on Sunday, and is looking forward to getting away from the hospital.

I can't say I blame her. I hate hospitals for all the same reasons Mary does. Doctors always popping in to poke and prod you, pseudo-sterile environments where the only thing that really thrives are the germs, and food that is virtually guaranteed to keep you sick...or make you sicker.

Still, she's a tough bird and will come through this with shining colors. Also like me, she takes doctors seriously and follows rehabilitation instructions to the letter. In recovery, I believe this and one's outlook (Mary is a VERY positive person) makes all the difference between getting better quickly versus slowly or not at all.

A huge thanks to all of you who have kept Mary in your thoughts, and in your prayers.

Little Fish

I was talking to my daughter as we were driving down the road the other day. It was one of those late winter days, where you could almost feel the very edges of the beginning of spring...just...almost...there.

I said to her, "Spring is just around the corner."
Without missing a beat she yelled, "TURN! TURN!"

Update on Me

I got the official notice from the doctors: yours truly is cancer free. I passed the first six-month blood work, cancer markers and CT scan with flying colors. Nine years and six months to go (or 4 years and 6 months, depending on which source you adhere to). Either way, I'm on my way.

Update on Mary

Mary is going to be fine, but had TWO heart attacks on Sunday. They had to put two stents in because the first one didn't do enough for her. She was taken off the ventilator yesterday late morning, and is breathing normally. They'll evaluate her condition today and hopefully move her into a lower level of care unit today or tomorrow. She will then be able to have visitors. Apparently, it was touch and go for a while on Sunday, but fortunately all is well.

Thank you for your thoguhts and prayers for my friend. It means a great deal.

MARY...

Everyone has (or should have) one person at work the helps them hold it all together, makes sure their back is covered, that they're in the loop when they need to be, helps them keep their head when a crisis comes up and reminds them to take a personal day before it disappears.

In my 7+ years at my current job, that person has been Mary. Last night, Mary had a heart attack. We don't know much yet, but she is in the local ICU and has 3(?) stints in, designed to open the flow of blood to and from the heart. Her husband, John, called in this morning to let us know she is resting in the ICU. He is on his way back to see her.

I would appreciate it greatly if you would take just a moment or two and ask God to give Mary, John, and her family the strength and courage they will need to get through this ordeal. Your thoughts and prayers for my friend are greatly appreciated.

One More Barium, and Then I'll Stop

It's funny, because the more I share about it (it really is funny, NOW) the more amusing things I learn. They actually flavor it with lemonade or berry flavor. I didn't get either of these, so I was feeling pretty bad, until I found someone who didn't get hers chilled. I CANNOT IMAGINE HOW UNFAIR THAT IS! I am thinking her doctor just didn't like her very much--what other expalnation is there?

Apparently, I am very fortunate to have been drinking mine. Lower GI stuff is not half as pleasant...or so I'm told. I'm taking people's word on this one.

The funniest quip I got was this one:
My dog ate my barium once. Later, I saw him licking his rear--probably trying to get the taste of the barium out of his mouth....

Top 10 Rejected Barium Slogans

10. New and improved paste flavor!

9. Barium: it's like spackling for your innards.

8. Something that looks this bad must taste good.

7. Barium: Miles from ordinary.

6. Fear of a white planet (Bonus points if you know the reference...without Google).

5. You might want to drink some water when you're done. No, really. Like, a lot of water.

4. Barium: The other white meat.

3. Atkins-friendly!

2. Approved by Balco Laboratories.

1. Sure, it looks like crap, but it tastes like crap too!

Barium...It's What's for Breakfast

This week I went for my FIRST SIX-MONTH checkup, post-cancer. I had to go for the CT Scan, which means I also had to drink two 20 ounce canisters of Barium. For those of you who don't know, Barium is kind of chalky, chunky, milky (think: wallpaper paste...in both consistency and taste). One canister at 9.00...not too bad, but bad enough. I got that uncontrollable shake you might get when you remember "The Drink That Did You Wrong" when you were younger. For me, it's rum and coke, for reasons I won't go into here. Every time I think of it, my head shakes, like someone half-sneezing, trying to get the thought and the taste out of my mouth. Barium is like that.

At 10.00, I take my second "fifth" of Barium. Not pleasant at all, and for a second or two, I wonder if I am going to keep it down. I had a window in the morning when I could eat breakfast, but I missed it in the general hectic activity that is my morning routine with my wife and daughter. By the time I realized, it was too late. Now, I am thankful.

I got to the office at about 11.00, right on time for the procedure. It was cool walking in, because these were people I had seen pretty much every day for more than a month when I went through radiation. They were happy to see me, it was funny (now) to think about all that has happened since the August 14th. I went into the CT Scan room and laid down on the "teleportation table" and was then inserted into the CT Scan tube/chamber.

"Here we go," I thought. And then my mind began to wander. "What if they find something?" "They won't." "Yeah, but what if they do?" It went on like that for a while. It was not a bad conversation, or a frightful one, just a detached observational musing about what it would mean if cancer came back. I arrived through the maze of my own thoughts at this: "If it comes back, I'll kick its ass back to the hell from which it came...AGAIN." That was enough. I wrapped up, got in my car and went back to the office. As I was arriving, Dr. Kottapally called and said everything looked good to him, but he was forwarding it on to a second specialist just to make sure. That was quick!

Fun Video

One of the cooler things I get to do in my job is meet with and serve awesome clients from a very, very diverse universe. I have worked with the Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission for about five or six years now.

They just came up with a video to promote expanded fishing opportunities for this year's trout season in Pennsylvania. For those of you who don't know, the first day of Trout Season is like a combination of Mardi Gras and the SuperBowl, with a sprinkling of College Football tailgating, all rolled into one. It's attended with all the tradition and religious zeal by the most battle-hardened fisher-persons you can imagine, ages 4 to 104.

If you have never done opening day in our state, you owe it to yourself to do it, just once. Anyway, here's the video...enjoy


Extra cool: The first embedded video in my blog. I'm not sure the twenty-first century is ready for me, but I'm ready for it.