Category Archives: Personal stuff

What they died for

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There are over 9000 crosses at the American Cemetery in France. That’s only 2 out of 5 who gave up their lives on the beaches of France in 1944; the rest were brought home for burial by their families. Maybe you knew that. I didn’t.

I don’t know who this guy was.

I do know that he didn’t leave home that day wondering if he was going to meet his quota at work, or strong-arm his suppliers for a better margin, or battle it out with a competitor. He might have paid more attention to his shoes being shined and his shirt being tucked when he left his ship that day than an employee cares about the floor being swept. We worry about career choices and for most of us, a crap assignment is a bunch of

Someone asked a WWII veteran if it bothered him that people were now playing and drinking and swimming on the beach so many died on. He replied no, that’s exactly why we fought that battle. So that others could enjoy such things.
It makes sense; does a soldier fight believing that there’s no hope for peace, that the battle will be endless? Surely not. Soldiers aren’t looking to catch a bullet so that songs and plaques and statues will sing their praises once dead.

paperwork and if it’s a crappy enough assignment some will skip it entirely. This guy was likely drafted yet it may never have entered his mind that he could do anything but his best because others depended upon him. And for that he gave up his life. Along with the fight to keep us free and allow people to have fun swimming and playing Frisbee on a beach that once ran red with blood.

This is what goes through your mind when you visit the American Cemetery in France. The rest of the day’s details seem pretty insignificant-

  • 8:45am Train from Paris to head to Bayeux, where we tour the town a bit before our half-day (not nearly enough, do not do a half-day tour!!!)
  • 1:45pm Normandy Beach & American Cemetery tour
  • 7pm Get dropped off at a gas station in the middle of nowhere to pick up our rental car (who knew that would be a perfectly-logical thing?).
  • Drive to Pontorson by way of Mont Saint Michel (got to get a look at what we’re up to for the next morning)
  • 9pm check into our hotel,
  • 9:15pm Head to a friendly pizza place around the corner (friendly yet perhaps not totally honest, as she claimed they don’t take credit cards and yet there was a sign in French on their counter that said they don’t take credit cards for purchases under 10 euros, and ours was well above that!).
  • 10:20pm -Midnight Work on photos and update diary with this trip info!

Tomorrow morning it’s an early rush to Mont Saint Michel, before (hopefully!) the crowds hit. After that, a long-ish (4 hour) drive to Tours, with Thursday being spent seeing old houses, ok, big castles, Cheateuxs, whatever you want to call them. So far, the trip is executing according to plan. Not that I planned for so little sleep, but it is what I expected. Utlimately, my lack of sleep is of absurd insignificance compared to risking your life so that others may play frisbee on a beach.  –Mike–

The adventure starts before getting to the airport (thanks United!)

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Once in a while you find a departure screen in need of a reboot. Rarely do you see one quite this messed up! Not even the final (SP3, not SP2) version of Windows XP. United’s IT (information technology) department is not putting its best-foot forward.

What, back in France, again?

The fun started with my first phone call from United, at 5:30am, telling me that my flight from SFO to Newark was delayed. 50 minute connection time between flight at Newark, and the flight was delayed (at first) 30 minutes. Not good. Another call says an hour delay. Itinerary now shot; won’t be able to make train connection in Brussels to Paris. So I call United to see what other flights can be had and, of course, while she’s trying to fix things up with a later flight, as soon as she puts me on hold the connection dies. I call back, get someone else who is having trouble dealing with the record because it’s “locked” (probably by the first person). But that gets dealt with, and it works out that we can fly through Chicago and directly from there on to Paris, killing the need for the extra train ride. That’s actually workable, allowing us to leave about an hour later than originally planned.

Too bad that I ended up losing an extra hour of sleep due to having to get up earlier, when the first phone call warning of the late flight came in!

Lunch in domestic first isn’t bad. Very nice salad, cold & crisp, with fruit bowl.

Dinner in international coach.Whatever the beef thing was, it wasn’t bad, but the salad was pretty sad.

“Breakfast” in international coach was pathetic. Not that I really cared that much (very little sleep). But a half-burned tiny roll, 4 small pieces of fruit and a cup of juice.

Thankfully, I was still able to use one of my remaining regional upgrades to sit up front (domestic first class, not that much to write home about, but better than coach) with my wife. She was originally booked in first all the way to Brussels, but the best we can do for her on the new itin is what United calls “BizFirst” which is basically a plane where “business” class is the highest level, not first. That’s fine, not so bad for her, and me, back in coach on that segment? Not too bad at all since it’s only 1/3rd full.

One of the flight attendants knew that Karen (my wife) was up front in business, and asked if I’d like any of the better wines offered to them. She was rather surprised when I declined (not much of a wine drinker). But Karen was nice enough to send me back a plate with two rolls and some butter. The FA told me she said I liked bread. Right. Just give me bread & water and I’ll do fine, while the aristocrats up front are dining on whatever my imagination will allow. :-)

Landing at CDG we can see a United plane that’s a lot smaller than anything else at the international terminal, one of the 757s they fly across the pond. Yuck!

The infamous “gotta go up before you can go down” tubes inside CDG airport

Upon arrival at CDG (Paris airport) we got through passport control very quickly and, with carry-on luggage only, we were on the RER train to Paris in no time. About $8 each way, takes about 40 minutes, and drops you off at Gare Nord, from which you can take another train or metro to get to just about anyplace you want.

The Velib cheap city-owned rental bikes are everywhere in Paris! When we get back to Paris on Friday and Saturday, I may just be desperate enough to rent one of those clunky monsters and get some exercise.

Today we took another RER train to Gare Lazare, and then just a three-block walk to our hotel, the Bellvue, just opposite the SNCF station from which we leave tomorrow morning for our trip to Bayeux (D-Day beach tour). That eening we rent a car and drive to Mont St. Michel and then Wednesday morning drive to the Loirre Valley. What, no mention of any bike rides? I’m going to be in pretty sad shape by the time I get home next week!

If you haven’t figured it out yet, this trip has nothing to do with cycling. It’s all about castles (“Chateuxs”) and touristy things and a trip to the D-Day beaches. In other words, this is my wife’s version of a vacation. But that’s cool; I’m seeing ares of France I’ve never been to (basically anything in the Normandy region, west of Paris). Should be fun. –Mike–

Why routine is important

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My diary entries have been infrequent and inconsistent lately. Why? Because I’ve been spending too much time on planes and not enough time on a bike. By itself, that shouldn’t be enough to keep me off-line, but it’s the change from a consistent routine, something I’ve kept for years and years and years, that’s messing me up. My every Tuesday & Thursday-morning bike ride, no-matter-what… the no-matter-what part is a necessity, not an option. It’s an enforced structure that keeps my life in order. Change that structure, alter the routine, and things can go badly in a hurry!

30+ years of doing the same Tuesday-Thursday morning ride, and you’d think it would become monotonous, boring, something I’d want to change. But it’s not; rather, it’s a sort of anchor that holds my week together. A way to break up time into something longer than a day but less than a week; something that establishes a relevancy all my own. Can’t stay up late on a Monday or Wednesday night, because I get up early to ride the next morning.

But without that, with the traveling I’ve done lately, I’ve been staying up late when I shouldn’t, and literally getting quite a bit less sleep. And it’s not likely to get any better anytime soon; I type this on a plane heading first to Chicago, then on to Paris. 7 days in Normandy & Paris, seeing Mont Saint Michel, the D-Day landing beaches, Loire Valley castles (OK, it’s in France, so they’re “Chateauxs”) and then a couple days slumming around Paris. This (aside from the D-Day stuff) is obviously not my normal trip; no bicycling involved! It’s stuff my wife has wanted to see for years, so the absurdity of traveling to France in July and then again in August sort of makes sense. But it’s going to do a real number of routine and sleep. Strange, that. Most would think you would sleep more while on vacation; I sleep less.

I said no bicycling on this trip, but that may not end up being entirely truthful. If the opportunity to rent a bike and go on a morning ride while my wife is sleeping presents itself, it just might happen. After all, the Loire Valley is littered with bike paths! No challenging climbs, no heart monitor, and probably a pretty klunky bike. But if I can get out for even an hour, it might help me to resume some sense of normalcy. –Mike–

Great article on doping in cycling (by a “regular” guy, not a pro)

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VeloNews published an article well-worth reading about a Cat5/Cat4/Cat3 42-year-old who needed “assistance” to achieve his dreams on a bike. A guy who would never be competing at the highest levels, and yet was willing to spend untold thousands of dollars on equipment & training & yes, $1000/month on doping products. HGH & EPO.

Read the article here My response below-

It’s like a modern-day version of Paul Kimmage’s “Rough Ride” (an extraordinary read even if you can’t stand the way Kimmage has conducted his anti-drug crusade in the years since). It differs primarily in motivation; Kimmage simply wanted to keep up, while Anthony might claim that but sounds more like the type of guy who’s infatuated with his ability to out-smart the next guy, the sort of person who would have been an Enron and discovered hey, look at what happens if I control this variable… I can get rich!

So an extraordinary article, well-written, but I’m not as ready to cut slack to guys like Anthony as some others here. What he did in cycling is likely indicative of his actions elsewhere in life. Some go to jail, some get fined, all he got for this particular transgression was a two-year ban from his current obsession. He’s likely got others. –Mike–.

Done with benchmarks, time to improve!

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First Sunday ride after returning from France, so what better to do than ride again the last Sunday ride we did before leaving? And, actually, the Wednesday prior to that.

Today’s ride, with Kevin-

Last ride prior to leaving for France (Bike Friday “test” ride), also with Kevin. The Bike Fridays seem to run about 10% slower on the climbs, but it’s not entirely a fair test we also loaded them down a bit with racks & bags (on my bike anyway).

Exact-same ride a few days earlier, on my Madone (like today). Just me that day; July 4th and Kevin was off paint-balling.

Obviously, I have a whole lot of comparative data! Weeks, months, years, even decades of the regular Tuesday/Thursday-morning ride, and then quite a few like this, often called the “Coastal Classic”. And, over the years, I’ve watched myself get steadily slower, at least past 50. I’d actually done pretty well in the run-up to 50, working hard to be in as good, if not better shape at 50 than I was at 35, and pretty much succeeded at it. But since then it’s been downhill, and not in a good way. My breathing issues have caught up to me, but soon that will be a thing of the past (once all testing is finished and they figure out the best therapy, as in drug, to open up my airways).

I’ve got enough benchmarks of the “old” me. Soon it will be time to start posting identical rides with a new trend. Faster times up the hills. Can’t wait!

Counting the days (until I can dope like the racers)

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It was tough to say whether a sub-par ride up Kings this morning was partly the result of knowing why I’ve slowed down over the past year or if it was simply a high-gravity day. Probably just a coincidence, and it’s not as if a 29-something time up Kings, when riding through the park, is all that slow anyway. Nevertheless, it did serve as that thing at the back of my mind that caused me to send an email to my doctor, asking if he’d seen the results of the tests, and wonder what the timetable looks like from here on.

So is the question as simple as it seems? My desire to go faster up the hill, and the knowledge that a drug (probably albuterol) that will reduce the effects of exercise-induced asthma will help, and now I’m pushing the doctor to get things moving along… am I much different from the healthy athlete who wants something to help him or her keep up with the rest of the pack?

Let’s face it, my exercise-induced asthma is exactly that. Exercise-induced. There’s nothing about it that hinders everyday normal activity. I have never had any sort of “attack”, just a feeling of being a bit more out-of-breath than I’d like when, say, climbing stairs or, heaven forbid, running for some reason. Big deal. But on my bike, trying to keep up with the faster folk? That’s when the hammer comes down on me. But even then, if I was content to ride at a more-moderate pace, it wouldn’t be that big a deal.

But for me, it is that big a deal. Wanting to push my limits on a bike has always been part of (perhaps a large part of) who and what I am. So much so that it drove me to visit a doctor, something I habitually avoid unless there’s a bone sticking out of my arm or something like that. Obviously, I’ve become highly motivated. To dope. :-)

The 44% Solution (my drug-free days coming to an end)

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This morning I may have seen the light at the end of the tunnel, the reason that I voluntarily set up a doctor’s appointment for the first time in 30+ years (“voluntarily” as in not a visit to fix something broken). That light came from a trip to Kaiser’s pulmonary testing lab, where my lung capacity was measured with, and without, “help.”

You’re hooked up to a breathing tube, your nose is pinched off, and you have a Doctor/Tech/Coach who’s telling you to breathe normal, breathe normal, breathe normal etc etc etc and then, at some random point, suddenly raises her voice and says “BREATHE DEEP!” followed by “EXHALE FAST! KEEP GOING! KEEP GOING! GET EVERY LAST BIT OUT OF YOUR LUNGS! DON’T STOP! KEEP GOING!” (and that “keep going” goes on long after you feel like there’s simply nothing left you can exhale, leaving you wondering what possible reason exists for the last 20 seconds of the exercise, but she insists that it’s important to keep trying to get rid of every last non-existant molecule of air that might still be in your now-collapsed lungs).

Waiting for the start of each breathe deep/exhale fast session is similar to the Drop Zone ride, where you’re sitting at the edge of a precipice, not knowing when you’re suddenly going to be dropped so fast that your stomach and mouth trade places. You try to anticipate, look for body language telling you she’s about to switch gears, but you can’t spend too much effort doing so because you need to have all the strength you can muster to perform the breathe deep/exhale ritual. And being competitive, I want to do as well as I can!

After going through this routine maybe 5 times, I’m then fed a new breathing tube, this one sending some sort of fine mist into my lungs. You breathe this stuff in & out normally for maybe 5 minutes (seems longer; it’s not very exciting), and then do the breathe deep/exhale session again.

Result? Whatever was in that mist improved my lung capacity by 44%. This is the most seriously-good-news I’ve had in a long time. Better life ahead through chemistry. Maybe I can stop wheezing on the climb up Kings in the morning. Maybe I won’t face the humiliation of having to get off the bike for a bit on a steep climb in France ever again.

But wait, there’s more! The woman running these tests? She’s a cyclist. She and her husband are totally into the Tour de France. She’s also a nut for Sunflower photos, of which, sadly, I have none from my most-recent trip. But the bike connection is real, and she’s going to get me set up on the V02 measuring bike, complete with EKG measuring. Basically a stress test and V02 all-in-one. Cool not just because it’s cool, but also because there are times when one wonders about mortality issues related to being 50+ and a stress test can identify all sorts of usually-correctable things that could cause issues.

So overall, I feel like the ordeal of having that thing I fear pretty much more than anything else, a blood test, which kept me away from Doctors for ages, may have been worthwhile. That’s how I feel today. Ask me after I’ve been through a colonoscopy, which is likely hiding out there, ready to show up any day now on my appointment calendar.

More photos from the last days of the TdF

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It’s bad enough that my son is killing me on the climbs. Looking at his latest photos (not those here; I’m going to post his later), he’s getting better at photography too! And I think I know why. I’m here in O’Hare airport (Chicago) waiting for the final leg home, and managed to snag a shower at the United lounge (long story; I’ll get to that later). They gave me a shower kit, complete with about 6 tubes of various lotions, including, of course, shampoo and body wash. Only one problem. I left my glasses with my son in the lounge area, and couldn’t read the labels. Seriously. Fortunately, the small bag I had my change of clothes in also had my pocket camera, so I took a macro photo, then zoomed in on the result so I could read the label. Again, seriously.

It’s going to be nice being home. The daily grind isn’t so bad, and it was quite clear that while I don’t mind being at the shop 6 days/week, that’s a talent/defect not shared by my wife or daughter, who are in serious need of relief. Me? I’m in serious need of serious sleep.

We stayed until the end… it was worth it.

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Details shortly; for now I’ve got to get a few hours sleep before catching a flight home tomorrow morning. Suffice it to say Kevin and I were in the right place at the right time when the riders did their honor laps around the Champ Elysees. Yes, they do come over when you yell to them, as you can see here!

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The present, past & future of cycling. Bradley Wiggins, Cadel Evans and Tejay Garderen.


7/21/12 Bradley Wiggins wins the final Time Trial in the 2012 Tour de France, sealing his victory. Cadel Evans, defending champion, conceded even more time, and Tejay Van Garderen at just 23 years old, comes in a remarkable 5th place overall. The scene was chaotic; half of the UK must have come across the chunnel in the past day or two to cheer on Wiggins, the first-ever Brit to win the TdF. It was not unlike the Lance Armstrong years, when thousands of Americans would invade France for a week or two in July. I came, I rode, I took pictures. Same as it ever was, but different. It’s time for the older to pass things on to the younger, and nowhere was that more apparent than on my rides in France with my son. First time I’ve been totally on the ropes and he was flying. It’s a good thing. Right? –Mike