Tests are Back

And according to the doctor, I am "normal". I never would have guessed it, but if the doctor says I'm normal, then it must be true.

Thanks for the kind thoughts and prayers, all.

"I am the CEO of My Own Life"

I thought this was a cool article on personal responsibility, written by Steven. While he comes at it from the perspective of a person who stutters, I feel we can apply it from the vantage point of our own lives, whatever that place may be.

Thanks, Steven. I am the CEO of my own life.

Testing...Testing...

Time once agin for the annual CT scan, blood work and all that. Everything went normally, for those of you keeping score at home. Results will be out soon...

I Need More Cowfields!

Further proof we nee more cyclocross in our lives...

World's Greatest Athlete?

It's one of those things that people sometimes debate simply to prove their point. Who is the world's greatest athlete today? There are those who would argue Tiger Woods, and I think it's a start. Roger Federer certainly comes to mind as well.

All that being said, I think we are in the midst of a performance by the world's greatest athlete, and most people don't even know who it is. In fact, 99% of America could sit right next to this person at a cafe and have no idea they are in the presence of an extraordinary talent who is redefining what is possible in their sport, as well as with the human body.

Chrissie Wellington burst onto the Ironman scene three years ago, coming out of nowhere to obliterate the field at Ironman Kona. That's the triathlon world's version of the Superbowl. Think 2.4 mile swim. Then a 112 mile bike ride. Then follow that up with a full marathon, another 26.2 miles. All of this occurs in 100+ degree heat and winds that have knocked bicycle riders over. Wellington won last year too, even though people knew her and what she was capable of. Her second victory came in spite of a flat tire on the bike (Rebekah Keal, in a display of sportsmanship that defines Ironman, gave Chrissie her extra CO2 canister so Wellington could get back in the race).

So you had to figure this year everyone was gunning for her. They were. The problem was, no one could catch her. She swam and biked her heart out. At one point, she was in 11th place. Not 11th woman. 11th person. To put that in perspective, these are the best of the best in triathlon today. If it were the NFL, she would be a starter. With the men. She got off and ran 26.2 miles through that 100+ degree heat and never stopped smiling. As she approached the finish line, she high-fived volunteers along the course. And she never stopped...wait, was she smiling? Why, yes, she was. She was smiling at everyone, because she knew just how special her performance was.

She set a course record. She beat the next nearest woman by 20 minutes, an eternity in Ironman terms. And, after she rolled across the finish line in a salute to Jon Blais, an Ironman finisher who passed away from ALS but forever left his mark upon the race, she left the finisher's area, took a shower, then returned to pass out finisher's medals and sign autographs for hours, revelling in the spirit of just what it means to be an Ironman Champion. Mahalo, Chrissie.

Uh Oh...

I mentioned a while back that I might need to buy a mountain bike. It looks like I might need a cyclocross bike too. Tell me this doesn't look like fun (courtesy of KRAM, who rode LiveSTRONG with me)...


Don't mind the music, though. I personally would have gone with Yakkety-Sax with this video.

Amazing Melons!

These are just amazing. LINK HERE.

Debate: Finished

Finally, an end to the debate "Who would win in a battle between a shark and a bear?" Answer? The Bearsharktopus. BAM!

A Career in Bikes? Sign Me Up...Maybe...

The Art of Manliness has an interview with Luke Elrath, product manager (design and marketing) for Breezer Bicycles in Philadelphia, offering insight into just what his job is like. It certainly sounds glamorous and fun...

On the 15th day of a recent trip oversees I found myself atop Five Finger Mountain above Taipei beginning a descent where I would hit speeds exceeding 40 mph. The sun was just coming up and burning away the mist in the valleys below, and I was doing what I truly love to do in a beautiful, exotic locale.

...but, of course, there's the other side, too...

The time spent away from home for factory visits, trade shows and promotions leaves less time to spend with my incredibly supportive wife. Though few and far between, the best trips have been the ones in which she joins me.

I think I'd miss the Fish Family too much to travel the way Elrath does. Read the FULL ARTICLE HERE.

Want...

I'm not a fan of huge extravagances, but I am a fan of clever, incredible design. This yacht fits the bill....



Just WOW...

I'm No Hipster

In the parlance of cycling lingo, I'm no hipster. In fact, I might be closer to a Fred. I do not have a singlespeed, do not have a star tattoo on my wrist (in fact, I have no tattoos. I don't look down on those who do, except maybe if they're stupid about it, it's just not my bag.), and I don't wear a beanie and listen to Kraftwerk. I don't roll up the right leg of my pants to ride, and I usually wear bright colors, including neon, to stand out. It's a side effect of being hit-and-run.

I did, however, visit my pseudo-hipster roots this week when my beautiful Honda was in the shop. I commuted to work on my bike. It's been quite a long time since I did it, and I have to say I had forgotten how much I enjoyed it. It was a nice little jaunt. I saw, along the way:

-- Two guys in a square-bottomed boat, one of whom had a sizable fish on

-- A lot of people looking at me like I was crazy, and an equal number of people who were equally disinterested in me

-- A car full of young kids. I thought they might be trouble when they pulled up next to me with the windows down, but then I heard a terrible noise. Apparently, one of them had just bought a fart-machine and wired it through the stereo. Not only gross, but loud. He'd hit it and they laughed uncontrollably, then hit it again. The process played out couple of times (it's a long light) and I thought for a second and decided too play along. After one horrifically long and juicy blast, followed by guffaws, I looked over at the kid in the passenger seat and said, "You might want to have that looked by a doctor." They just howled, laughing as they pulled away.

-- It might just be me, but I saw a lot more people riding to work on bicycles.

-- An owl

-- It's easier to do hills now that I am in decent shape. That being said, I couldn't figure out why I was having a harder time on Friday. Then it occurred to me: I was carrying a 20+ pound pack on my back with my clothes and work stuff. I remembered when I started, and I was carrying those 20+ pounds on my gut.

-- I got home and really didn't want the ride to end. I found my car was ready and Mrs. Fish and Little Fish were off to see Fame (Verdict: Save your money). BONUS! That gave me a little over an hour to get to my car. I hopped back on my bike and pedalled as afst as I could, reaching the shop right before sundown. All's well that ends well.

Oh So Close....

My car broke down. I was driving back from a client appointment, which is sooooo much better than having it happen driving to a client appointment, when the check engine light came on. At first I thought it was odd, because it looks exactly like the low-fuel light (which is almost always on, for some reason which may or may not be related to my penchant for trying to eek out just one...or two more trips before fueling) and I had a quarter of a tank of gas. Then I realized with a shock just what it was.

I was on Route 581, which for those of you in the know is most decidedly NOT the place to break down. If the trucks barreling through the region don't run you over, the cars will pick you off sniper-style. I was fortunate to be arriving into Harrisburg when it happened, so I pulled off the exit, into an apartment complex, turned off the car and watched in horror as steam billowed from the car in a mushroom cloud with a noticeable antifreeze/coolant odor. Something was clearly, terribly wrong.

I called Mrs Fish and told her what was going on, and that I was going to walk into town and get some coolant, then try to nurse it to the service station. I found a Rite Aid about half a mile away that had coolant, and bought two bottles, then hiked back to my car...those bottles are heavy, for the record. I let the car cool down, then poured the coolant in.

I made it to the repair place after two more stops to let then engine cool down, then adding more coolant. In short, it was an overall unpleasant experience, but prayers and my trusty Honda saw me through. My goal was to get a quarter-of-a-million miles out of the Honda. I pulled into the station at 249,089. Oh so close...I knew I was facing decision-time if the bill was high, and given the nature of what was going on, it looked pretty bad. And smelled pretty bad, too.

The Repair place called me the next day. A hose had broken and the repair bill was going to be....less than $300! Done and DONE! We're back in business and looking to clear 250,000 miles by next month. ROCK ON!

I Can See!

It's been a good week, all-in-all.

Mrs. Fish started the fall cleaning project on my golf night (WIN -WIN!)and while moving a chair in the living room she found my glasses (WIN-WIN-WIN? Win cubed?). So now I have my glasses back, but not before I went to the eye doctor, got my prescription updated and oredered a new pair (Winner, Winner! Chicken Dinner!). I have two pair of glasses, which, as some astute and anonymous observer pointed out in the comments section, is probably where I should have been all along. That being said, I have enough problem keeping track of one pair.

Speaking of winner, winner, I won a sales contest today for setting the most appointments in a two hour period (I managed 14--sweeeet!) Prize was only $50.00, but it's $50.00 more than anything I ever won for teaching.

Earlier this week, I won a different recognition along the same lines, when I was named Sales Performer of the Quarter for the entire company. That's saying a lot, because I work with some awesome salespeople and business is tough right now.

And, the best thing? It's not even Friday yet! Game on!

GAH! I'm Blind!

Or mostly. My glasses have run away. Or, I lost them. Or something. Anyway, they're gone, and while my eyesight is not bad, it's just off enough to cause general discomfort and eye strain of the variety and strength that I am pretty much wiped out at the end of the day.

I remember when I had fighter-pilot vision. Today? Not so much.

From Bad Things, Good People Do Amazing Things

My friend Randy is one of them...

FORE!

Last night I shot 8 over on 9 holes. I made a 30-foot downhill putt for par to win a hole. I stuck a 120 yard 9-iron inside of 10 feet. I hit a 200 yard 4-iron that came up 3 feet short of the green.

I LOVE this game.

Ask me again next week.

DUDE--I GOTTA GET A MOUNTAIN BIKE!

The shots at the 4 minute mark are awesome...

LiveSTRONG 09: The Totals

So, just what exactly did Team Fish do this year? Here is an overview, by the numbers.

98.6 - Miles for the course
15,085 - Feet of climbing, over hill, over dale
7,998 - Calories burned, according to Kurt's Garmin (that's 4 days of foood for some people)
4 - Riders on Team Fish
6,300 - People who rode, ran or walked in Philadelphia
3,200,000+ - Dollars Raised in Philadelphia: Holy CARP!
41 - People who made contributions to me
4,190 - Dollars raised by TEAM FISH! THANK YOU!!!!!!

355 - Days left until we do it all again! Surely that's enough time for you to get yourself READY and into shape, SET your plans, and GO RIDE WITH US!!!!

LiveSTRONG 09: It Is Finished

All's Well That Ends Well.

---Shakespeare

I climbed the rest of the hill, leaving the Devil behind me. At the top of the hill is Landis Store, where they have an all day party with a live band and chicken soup. Now, it wouldn't seem like a good thing to have chicken soup on a day in the mid-to-high 80s, with high humidity, but that's exactly why it works. When you're cramping up like I was, that warm, salty broth hits the system like a bullet train, and everything just melts away.

I looked for Kurt at the top of the hill and saw him standing near the bike racks...bleeding. What the hell? There was a family with cowbells and triangles cheering on the riders and Kurt decided he wanted to toss them BUTNZ. When he went to throw the BUTNZ across his body, he misjudged his momentum and went down in a heap. He was sore on the shoulder where he hit first, and his knee and elbow were scraped up pretty badly.
"Rub some dirt on it. You'll be fine," I said. I didn't need to. Kurt is a former Marine who served in Iraq, The guy is plenty tough already.

So, we mounted back up and laughed as we passed a sign that said It's All Downhill From Here. Yeah. Until the next hill. Granted, the hills are smaller, but they're no less steep and they come with surprising frequency. Kurt and I were both feeling it at this point, and the heat was beginning to take its toll. It was time to dig deep.

When I found myself needing to go there, the best thing I can do is to think about people that are supporting me and those who have gone before me. I found myself thinking about Terri Doyle, a friend who passed away earlier this year, but not before taking cancer through a Irish-scrapper-style ass-whupping. I thought a lot about the people who had given to my ride, those who are a part of Team Fish. I thought about the names of the loved ones you sent me, the stories behind them and just what they meant to you...and to us. I thought of mothers and fathers, daughters and sons and sisters and brothers and friends, of those who are still with us fighting and the dear saints departed. Your willingness to share their memory with me and to trust me to ride in their honor was a source of strength, especially through the end of the ride, the hardest part of the day.

In some ways, this part of the ride is very much like having Cancer. You have periods of frantic activity, where all you can focus on is the one task immediately in front of you. It's followed by longer periods of what can best be described as the doldrums. It would be easy to lose focus, or to have your mind wander, but then someone or something snaps you back, and you remember why you are riding, why you are here, and why you simply, above all, must not ever, EVER QUIT.

So we pedalled on. Kurt and I, heading for the next stop, a firehouse that was, by all reports from the last two years, kind of lame. It always makes me think of Donny Carnes, the son of a dear friend of mine, who died in a car crash in his sophomore year. Donny was a firefighter, and never would have settled for a lame rest stop at his firehouse. This year was a pleasant surprise, and I couldn't help but smile for Donny. There was music, a massage table, lots of food (SALT!) and the world's largest, coldest, most delicious grapes EVAR! There was a little girl serving the riders and I gave her one of my BUTNZ! You would have thought I gave her a pony, the way her face lit up. There was also a mom and her two sons way in the back, cutting up oranges. I mde my way back there and gave them BUTNZ and the reaction was the same. Kids love BUTNZ!
"Thanks so much for supporting us," I said.
She said, "No, thank you for riding for all of us."

My mantra fro the last 20 miles became "The harder I pedal, the sooner this is over." I was hurting. I didn't care. I just wanted to finish. When you get that close, you start thinking about the finish, and it was surprisingly emotional for me; I knew it was going to be a tough finish for me.

The last miles ticked away in a series of rolling hills. Kurt told me to go ahead as we approached the finish, and I zipped up my jersey (hey! I'm a professional--you have to be able to read the sponsor, right?) and rolled into the chutes. As I approached the finish, I heard my announcer buddy say, "Now finishing: Rob Duffield, Survivor. Hey--THE LOUNGE! I LOVE IT!"
I shouted up to him: "TEAM FISH! CAN YOU HEAR US NOW?"
"TEAM FISH!" he said.

Damned right!

LiveSTRONG 09: Hell in the Hills

I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the
oil that's in me should set hell on fire...

---Shakespeare

So Kurt and set about climbing again. The back side of the Challenge contains some pretty serious hills, so to break it up a bit, I began recounting the 2001 Tour, casting my bulky self as Jan Ullrich and Kurt, who probably weighs a buck-fifty soaking wet with rocks in his pockets, as Lance Armstrong. He was probably a good 25feet ahead of me on one hill when I started yelling to him in a thick German accent.

This is what it looked like in 2001:


So I am yelling at Kurt/Lance: "Heah I come, Lance! Der Strudel is coming for you! You better get on zee pedals and dance little man...HEAH I COME!!!"
People around us were laughing their butts off, and we were having fun with it.
"Zee Strudel will not slow me down zis ye-ah! I AM STRONGER ZAN YOU!!!! I am POWAHED by Zee STRUDEL!
Kurt/Lance stepped on the pedals a bit and I went with him. "HEAH I COME, LITTLE MAN!"
Then Kurt/Lance takes a look back at me gaining on him as we approach the top of one of the climbs. I know what's coming. "And now," says Kurt/Lance, "a reenactment." And he gives me THE LOOK. Only this year, I am powered by ZEE STRUDEL! I cannot be stopped, As soon as he turns around, I drop into the big ring, jump out of the saddle and mash it, flying past him over the top. People were cheering us on.

Mark it in your books: Ullrich beats Armstrong on a mountain climb in Philadelphia. I am fairly certain it's the first and last time that will ever happen.
"Well," said Lance/Kurt as we coasted down the other side, "we probably burned half-a-pack of matches on that climb." Got that right.

Kurt and I were rising up over the hills in pretty good shape, but I knew the climb to Landis Store, a one-mile suffer-fest was coming. And, I knew the Devil would show up there again. Some things you just know. I was starting to cramp up a bit, so I pulled off before the hill and shook my leg out, rubbing the muscle out (for those of you keeping track at home, it was the Vastus Medialis). And then I started.

Kurt asked if he wanted me to have him ride with me, but I just said I was going into Fish's House of Pain for a while and I would see him at the top. No strudel this time. Just hurt, and lots of it. I was really beginning to feel the pounding from the hills and the increasing heat. The first part of the climb is steep, and my quad started cramping, but not as bad as before. I tried to get out of the saddle to stretch it out, but that just made it hurt worse, so I settled back in and pressed my thumb as deeply as I could into the muscle. This helped a bit. There were a lot for people around me and they were encouraging me, which meant a lot.

About half-way up, there stood the Devil once again. I knew he would be somewhere up here. He was taunting the other riders in the usual fashion, and the worst f what he was saying was because of where he was positioned: right on a turn. He could see the riders struggling up and he was telling them, "Landis Store is right around the corner! You only have about 50 feet to go! COME! YOU CAN DO IT!" Having been in two Challenges before, I knew exactly where I was, but I couldn't stop those poor fools from sprinting around that corner....only to see another half-mile of steep climbing. The vitriol that spewed back down to the Devil of the Hills was music to his ears: He had won.
"I know exactly how far I have to go," I said.
"You can quit anytime you want. NOBODY WILL KNOW!"
"I'll know!"
"Just take a break for a while....c'mon. What can it hurt?"
I looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Get thee behind me, Satan." And I left him behind for good, rising through my hurt to the highlight of the Challenge: Landis Store.