Why I love hate Wimberley

went on my 10th ride of the year. yea. Wimberley is such a great place to live and raise a family. And ride.

We took the extended family to Market Days today. It was nice, I admit, and I'm not usually one for the arts and crafts and antiques and such. There's quite a bit more than that at Wimberley's Market Days, so no complaints.

Anyway, I go ride, and as I do a bit of the humbled death march back through town to get home, I see my Jeep in front of one of the most expensive boutiques in town. I was hoping my Jeep was stolen, kinda.
...

Chloe and Lisa are in the Jeep getting ready to leave, and I roll up ostensibly to say "hi", but really just to see how bad it was.

Fortunately, she didn't buy anything for herself today. But she did buy my ex-wife something.

I hate Wimberley.

YMMV.

Reanie is 10 years old today.   She is thoughtful, smart, brave, strong, beautiful, and independent.

She's certainly independent.  Well, as independent as a 10 year old can be, but she's my baby girl.  When she hurts, I hurt.  When she's happy, I'm happy.  

Especially in the last year, I've seen her grow so much.   In this last year she's really started to take control of who she is to be.  That's not to say that I'm done or even want to be done parenting.  Not at all.   But she will do her own thing bravely.  

I admire her talent in art and dance.  I respect her athletic ability, but know not to push.   But what I respect the most is when she is brave.  She'll walk into a store in Belgium, and knowing barely any dutch or flemish at all, and she'll manage to help with our shopping list, pay, and get back to our meeting point, all on her own.  

She'll carry on conversations with Italians, in italian, even though (at this point), she speaks at about a 2 or 3 year old level.  

She is the type of person who is friends with everyone, yet she's dragged around the world, and rarely gets to see anyone more than a few weeks at a time.

She's also confident.   Before she went to bed, she wanted to make sure I took a "morning" picture of her for today.  For anyone reading this blog for some time, you'll know that I usually post a birthday morning picture of whomever is having a birthday on the day.   Reanie, here you go.   Beautiful, even when you are asleep, and it keeps me from getting you are my baby girl.

Marshall says,

Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted in one moment
Would you capture it or just let it slip?


We (me, Chloe and the family) have done a good job (if I do say so myself) of making opportunities and then taking them.   We work hard at it.   Funny now that I think about it, but we work hard at what is sort of play for most people.  No regrets at all.

But in the last 10+ years, the very thing I do to help people hasn't happened for myself.   I ride less and less.   Several times I've resigned to just let it go and let coaching-training-directing be my job alone and let myself go play at something else.  It was that I needed it to be that way, because I was getting worse and worse and more and more frustrated with the very thing I'm supposed to make better for those I help.

Not sure what made it happen other than Noah was sitting around in cycling clothes a few weeks ago, and I looked at him, frustrated a bit, and asked, "Why aren't you gone yet?"   For those not real close, I meant that he needed to get out and ride, not that I actually wanted him "gone".  Just clearing that up.

He said, "Waiting on you.".   I wasn't anywhere close to ready to ride.  Wasn't even thinking of riding, honestly.  I had plenty to do at the moment.   And no real motivation to be reminded how much slower and weaker I am now than glory days, especially compared to someone who is getting very strong and fast.

But it struck me that it was a moment, an opportunity, and that I could take it or let it go.  Sure, there would be other opportunities to ride.   Many, many more, in fact.  But I wasn't going to get that opportunity again.   That opportunity to ride, particularly with Noah expecting me to go out with him.  Just how many more times in his and my life together will we get to ride together?  And even if there are several, how many will I have to be holding him back?

I don't want to hold him back.  And I could just skip it, but he wanted, or at least expected me to ride with him.    Now, I never want to be the guy who drags a ride or rider down, making them wait on every hill or every turn.  I want to at least be able to ride side by side with someone, or when it calls for it, at least be able to hang on to their wheel.

That ride happened.  

And several more since.  I took the opportunity and it opened up others.   

I'm not saying I'm going to start winning races.  I'm not saying I'm going to impress anyone with my fitness.   But I don't dread a ride anymore.  In fact, yesterday I did a true set of intervals for the first time in years.   And while doing them, I wasn't thinking about how it applied to a client or that I was producing wattage less than what would be competitive in any race I could do.  Nope.  I actually lost myself in the workout.  Was doing it because I was enjoying it.  Just the pure effort of the effort.

It was on one of my least favorite roads in the area and in a type of workout I used to hate.  It was windy and hot and the road was rough.   My bike wasn't shifting well, and there was a gawdawful noise coming from the bottom bracket area.   And I lost myself in the workout.


This week, recognizing that just getting the kids ready for school or for bed or making sure their homework was done...stuff that has to be done...is not making the most of the opportunity to be a Daddy, I took Reanie into San Marcos to visit The Paper Bear.  It's sort of a girlie, but also a cool, eclectic type of store where you can get handmade jewlery, fudge, a book about how to be a better husband, a kite, or some plastic army men or furniture or incense.  And other things.

Reanie and I spent a solid hour there looking at anything and everything.   I had plenty to do.  The Cycling Academy needs A LOT of attention right now.   The work with the team is ramping back up, and I have a full load of coaching to do with several new (to me) athletes getting going... Too many times in the last few years I'd opt to focus on work that needed done instead of feigning interest in a doll that caught Reanie's interest.

While looking around, she was trying to find things she thought would interest me.   Made me tear up a bit.   Here we were, in the girlie store, doing some Daddy-Daughter time, and she's trying to come to me instead of me coming to her.

I took the opportunity to take her out on the "date".  I took the opportunity to spend the time with her.   And when I realized how things had just gotten away so much that she was at a store for her, but trying hard to make it about me, I realized the opportunity was right there to make sure she knew that it was about HER.  

I smelled all the candles she wanted me to smell.  I tried on all of the silly hats, even the frilly ones.   We shared some fudge.  We held hands.  I got excited about the bouncy ball that looked like the #3 billiards ball. 

It isn't that I don't want to spend that kind of time with my kids.   I've done so before.   But I've missed opportunities to do so lately.  So much so that I couldn't remember when the last time I did something with just Reanie like that.  I took the opportunity, and I lost myself to the extent that I found that "myself" isn't about the work I'm doing or projects I have.  Sure, they are a part of me, but they are not more important than being a Daddy.


The things I have to do each day with regards to work are important.   Not curing cancer or anything like that, but what I do is important to the people it is intended to help.    Those are things I have to do to keep the roof over our heads and food on the table.   I also need to feel good about me.  That involves feeling fit enough that I'm doing something other than going through the motions.   Interestingly, the same thing applies to being a husband and Daddy.   Taking that opportunity to do more than just go through the motions. 


"Lose yourself", to me, means to get rid of what it is that holds me back from being the best I can be.

And sure enough, putting some focus on myself and the kids, and I found myself more productive at work.


*no animals were harmed in writing this post.  and no plan from beginning to end was made, either.   You, reader (all 3 of you-- i just cheked the stats), were just easier than making an appointment and the co-pay for couch time.   Grazie.

My Grandfather passed away

My Grandfather passed away this week.   It's sad, of course, but he was expected to pass on a few weeks ago, so it wasn't a suprise.   He was 85 years old, and until the last few weeks, lived an active life quite robustly.   In fact, it was less than a month ago that he injured himself while jumping a stone wall.   In another incident, he'd accidently knocked a shunt from his chest, but was showing his garden at the time, and though bleeding fairly heavily and soaking his shirt in the proess, carried on with want he wanted to show in his garden.  Tough man.

I wasn't particularly close to my Granmpa Don.   I saw him more often when I was a kid, but as I got older and had more of a choice, I opted more and more to spend time with other family in the area.   The man just passed away, so it certainly isn't appropriate to make a list of complaints about him, so I'll leave it at...He wasn't a nice man.

That said, he taught me to fish.   He helped teach me to swim, too.  For a few summers, I remember spending time at his lake house on Caddo Lake.   It was a mobile home, but it was a lake house none the less.  I'm not judging at all.  It was nicer than several places I've lived.

My fishing lessons there did involve baiting the hook and removing the fish.  Proper stuff for 5 and 6 years old.   But the method and approach were not likely to fall under the "nurturing" category.  "Chreeuuss, you don't know how to put a damn worm on a hook?  Damn shame.  Do this.  (shows me)  Don't catch your finger with the hook or you'll get infected and die.  And I don't want to hear about that with your mother."   And then I learned to cast by be told to "throw it that way, but you better damn well not hook me, so pay attention to what you are doing."

My first swimming lesson with him was from the boat.   I hit him in the back while I was attempting to cast.   Out of the boat I went, and when I surfaced, he pointed to the bank and told me I was done in the boat.

I don't recall whether it was the same trip or another, but the other swimming lesson followed his exasperation with me, since I'd got my hook caught in a tree a few times while fishing from land near the house.   I had to swim what seemed like a long ways down to find a place to get out, but I made it.

Years and years have passed until I thought about these things.  I'm not going to say that they were things that shaped me one way or the other or caused me to need therapy or anything like that.  Heck, I have some fond memories of shelling peas and exploring the garden.  I have great memories and remember Christmas-like anticipation of getting to his house so I could have some of Grandma Thelma's homemade rolls.   And they had an electric organ there, and as long as we kept the volume low, we could play it as much as we wanted.

As an adult with three kids, all of whom are older than where I was for those fishing and swimming lessons now, I can see how I've been at least somewhat affected by my time with Grandpa Don.

I'm pretty ok with my kids playing around me as long as they can keep it relatively quiet, but I'm pretty short to ask for quiet if I'm feeling like the noise can get out of hand or if it is getting in the way of what I'm doing (I've worked from home most of my adult life).   I love having those "fresh baked bread" type smells at the house.   I like it at least as much as the eating it part. 

When it comes to fishing, I'm still bad at it.   I love it, but I'm not particularly comfortable with it since I don't really know what I'm doing.  Bait the hook?  Sure.   Cast or drop it in the water?  Sure.  No problem.   But technique?   None.   Understanding of what makes the fish take it?  None.   Then again, I've actually fished for something to eat only a couple of times in my life, so it isn't all that stressful.   I do need to learn something so I can pass it on to my kids in a manner that they'll understand.

Swimming.   This is a tough one.  Noah loved the water even as a baby, and he had not drowning down pretty quick, but he actually took swimming lessons because Lisa or her family knew someone pretty good.   In fact, I believe she's actually a collegiate swim coach somewhere.   Pretty dang "Dallas" of us to get a collegiate swim coach to teach our kid to swim.

Reanie and Buddy had me for the most part.  I was patient.  I was kind and caring.   I nurtured them and we made gentle, progressive steps.   But then I wasn't patient anymore, and in what was either the 3rd or 30th try to get them to actually swim that I figured it would be healthier for everyone if someone else did it.  So Chloe and I put them in lessons at this gym-play-factor-pool place that offered swimming, gymnatics, karate, birthday parites, etc.   I remember thinking that a couple hundred dollars was worth it at that point, but I also remember thinking that it costs nothing to throw them in the pool, watch them to make sure they don't drown, and then we're done. 

Buddy learned to swim there.  Reanie didn't.   It stirkes me now that there should be a money back deal on that.  Shortly after we concluded lessons, we went to Bobby's (Lisa's Dad) house to swim, and Buddy couldn't, but Reanie could.    I was losing patience.   Forutnately we had beer, wine and margaritas.

A week or so later, Chloe and I took the kids to Lake Grapevine and a swinning grotto there.   Both were afraid of the lake.   They were going to swim proper, though.   Patience, money, time...they were passed the age that I expected them to know to swim, and I wanted them to play in the watter, Dammit. 

Chloe wasn't all thata happy with me, but they learned to swim to my satisfaction.   I was only sort of effective, because the next week, when I suggested that we go to Lake Grapevine to swim, they wanted to go to the dentist or something instead.   But we went, and they sort of swam, and while they didn't want to get in the water, I pretty much or exactly said, "Swim, or I'll throw you in and you'll swim anyway."  

Now we have a pool and they swim every day, diving from the diving board, going to the bottom of the deep end to pick up stuff, and racing each other across the pool.

They probably don't think of our days at the lake.   But I reckon they'll remember it more when it comes time to teach their kid to swim.   I hope they actually teach their kids themselves, but I know that for Grandkids, I'd love to be involved if asked.   If I'm involved, I'm not going for the "throw them in" technique.  Not at first anyway.

At my Grandpa Don's short, but sweet and simple service, it was very nice.  The weather finally broke, so it was pleasant to be outside.   It was pretty much just some family there, but we were in a cemetary of a small church in the small town where they grew up.   We were right next to the school (as in, the playground with a working oil well is next to the cemetary) where my Mom and my aunt and uncles on that side of the family went to school from kindergarten through high school.   After the service, we went to the Dairy Queen across the street, which also serves as the parking for the high school football games.

I visited with family I don't see very often, and it was so nice that I felt regret that I don't see them more often.   My cousins, all very interesting people, are people I truly enjoy being around.   My uncle Larry put together my first car, and I darn near went to live with my uncle Tom when I was a teenager.   My aunt Dorothy always tells me that she wondered who that tall, handsome guy was she's saw, and then hugs me...

In my 40's, I suppose I can expect that funerals become defacto family reunions, and while I'm not happy that my Grandpa Don passed away, I am glad it got me to see family, even if it was the shortest of visits.  I'm also glad that I do have my Granpa Don memories.

For better and worse, I can say that he had an impact on me.   When I think of the things I want for my kids, they are all pleasant, of course.   But I also know that things can be very tough or difficult, and they can still go on to live happy, and productive lives, whether they know how to drag a lure along the bottom in a certain way for a certain kind of fish or not.

In Grandpa Don's last couple of weeks, most of the family came in and visited.  I did not.   Partly because I was really busy, but that is exceedinly lame, I admit.   It isn't that I didn't want to go, because I did.   When I heard "it's just a matter of days," I really got to think about the electic organ, fishing, "swimming" and such, and while I have no idea if he thought about those things or even thought about me much at all, I do wish I could have told him that I remember those things with a smile.  He was 85 and dying, and I should have been able to say, "thank you for taking me fishing."    That really wasn't too much to ask of me.   Yeah, I'm busy working two (going on three) jobs, but really, I'm not curing cancer.  Nobody is too busy to see family or even friends move on to whatever is next when they have the opportunity to do so.

Not bad at all

Due to some well-earned downtime and a needed trip down to the farm to visit family, Noah and I opted out of going to the State RR. Then again, all of the guys who did the big trip of road nats/track nats/Rimouski/Belgium are taking a break or just now coming out of hibernation.

But we were motivated to ride, so we entered the Conquer the Coast Rally in Corpus Christi. It was a pleasant enough route. Took in the bay bridge and even the Port Aransas Pass ferry, and through Mustang Island...it was quite alright.

With most of the racer types at State RR, this was more of a triathlete thing, especially with an 18mile time trial in the middle of this 70 mile rally. Awkward, but it worked.

Well, I suppose it did. I got caught up in a crash about 2 miles after the TT started (mass start TT). I was doing all of the right things. Riding up front, keeping the tempo up. Actually, in the first 30 miles, Noah was in a 2-4 man breakaway, and I rode on the front of the field for most of that 30 miles trying to keep them far enough not to catch, but close enough to encourage a chase. Unfortunately, the chasers would attack, die, and roll back on us.

All in all, I got a good workout in for about 32 miles. Then, as I was sitting about 7th wheel, 4 or 5 guys tangled up in front of me. I was able to navigate through with skill, ninja and luck, but in doing so, I slowed enough that someone relatively close behind me, who didn't bother to even tap the brakes, plowed into me from behind. Over the bars I went anyway, and then the rest of the 30 or so rider back jumped on my bike.

While I was coming to a stop with my back on the ground, my first thought was, "NNNNOOOOAAAHHHH!?!?" I thought he was right behind me, and I was scared he was going down in a heap, and we'd just found out the day before that he was going back to National Talent ID Camp with USA Cycling in a few weeks.

But he'd been hiding well back and though he had to take evasive maneuvers, he made it through just fine.

8-10 riders hit the deck, but all were able to get up and continue. Well, one guy didn't, but everyone left him when he couldn't remember what part of his body was actually hurt-- it was obvious he was faking. But my bike was done and needed some attention in the shop before it would roll again. Luckily, a nice lady and her daughter gave me a ride the 35 or so miles back to Corpus. She knew of Garmin-Cervelo, and (really) as much I tried to convince her otherwise, she was sure she'd seen me on TV in the Tour de France. I told her that it wasn't me, repeatedly. It actually got irritating to have her go on about it, but I was appreciative for the ride anyway.

I met up with Lisa, Scott and Anelise at the finish, and I enjoyed a beer that morning while I nursed wounds and did inventory.

Noah finished well. He was actually in a group that was "racing", and he had the gap coming in, but missed or took a wrong turn about 800m from the line. Still managed to get back on course and work his way up to 3rd or 4th, but it wasn't really a race, so...he lost.

Spent the rest of the day hanging out at the farm. Kids drove the new tractor, and I closed the shades and took a world class nap.

I was able to ride the next day without much trouble at all, so I'm glad my 41 year old body can still withstand a flop on the pavement. Actually felt pretty darn good on the bike, but it hurts my ankle to walk, and my shoulder is pretty tender. Kinda have the philosophy that it is good that I'm riding well enough to ride at the front and take a hit like that. Life ain't bad at all.

Lonnie and Jenny gave me a spare tire cover for my jeep that is from the "Life is Good" line of stuff. When we got home yesterday, as Noah and I took the bikes off of the car and got ready to ride, even though it was late in the day, I looked around at our log cabin, the pool, the hot tub, the happy kids, the pleasant weather, my beautiful wife...yeah, I crashed. Yeah, the entry fee was $60 (!) each for the rally. Yeah, there's a lot of work to do at the Cycling Academy.

But Life is Good anyway.

and then, and then, and then...

In the last month or so I've really felt the weight of having two jobs. Please don't get me wrong, because I was born to do both of these jobs. I love doing them. As corny as it sounds, I really do love my life and how it is going.

But I sure am tired. I've nearly given up bike racing for myself, and it has been a relief. one job, and I can pull it off, even with 3 kids and such. But the two jobs, especially when one of them pretty much means I can't race at a race because I'm taking care of riders who are racing...well, I just couldn't manage to do it well.

That said, I could downgrade, and I probably should have several years ago after being hit in Argyle, but I kept hanging on and waiting to be able to race with Noah. I did that a couple of times this year before my directing job really took over, and I'll forever have that. But by now, he's so much better than me, and I'm quite a bit behind category, that it has been easier to just let it go. It still hurts to say that, but it hurts less than the stress/strain/pressure/whatever of always feeling behind on fitness.

Anyway, the two jobs has kept me from being able to sit here and crank out even a 6 minute thought. Facebook and burping out a status update has been lots easier and something I could do while waiting for the check at a meal or for the pump to kick off while filling up with gas.

Thank you, though, for still checking in. If I'm posting less than once per month and you are reading this, you either sincerely care or need to up your medication.

Life is really good here. My first job is rocking along better than ever and has taken me further than I ever thought it would when I started. My second job is accelrating faster than I thought was possible, and this is a really good thing.

Coming up is a week coaching at the Regional Development Camp, and our camp manager (Dave Wenger) set it up that I can actually stay at home most nights. Being able to work the camp for a week with some of the most talented juniors in Texas is great, but being able to see my little kids and wife at home in the evenings makes it even better.

From there we head to Tulsa and then Georgia for a prep-camp for Jr Road Nationals, and then the week of road nationals. We head home for a few days, and then up to Frisco for junior track nationals. On one hand, it is great that track nats are in Texas and nearby. On the other hand, we're a long, long way from Rimouski, Quebec, which is where we will be headed. 40 hour drive that has to be done in 2.5 days...

We'll be in Rimouski for 5-6 days, then we make the drive home, where we will do laundry, and then catch a plane to Belgium, where I will be doing some work for the Slipstream team for the month.

We'll get back just in time for school to start.

Alright. Back to work!

Nobody is making you read this, but thank you for doing so anyway.

Chris


--Bonus--
Quote of the day from Buddy: Mama, Mama, I just thought of something...(pause)...never mind. I just tooted.

homesick for a place I've not yet lived

Mama, noi ci saremo presto.

L'EROICA (english version) from Edouardi Sepulchro on Vimeo.

My first night at The Driveway

Conversation #1

Someone I don't know-- "Chann. Chann. CHANN! Hey CHANN!"
Me- (looking up to see Chann)
Someone I don't know-- I didn't know you were going to be here tonight. Cool! Are you racing?"
Me-- (reaching to shake hands) I'll give it a few laps and then make up some excuste to drop out and then watch the finish. Not really racing, but I'll be in there.
Someone I don't know-- ???
Me-- Hi, I'm Christian.
Someone I don't know-- You aren't Chann? Chann is my coach.


Conversation #2

Acquaintance at The Driveway-- why is Noah on a Felt. I thought the Pro Tour guys were on Cervelo this year. They are on Cervelo aren't they? The team is called 'Garmin-Cervelo'.
Me-- Don't get me wrong, because I love a Chipotle burrito, but we can't literally eat there every meal
Acquaintance at The Driveway-- hahaha... (pause) what?
Me-- Noah didn't go to the team meeting where they gave out bikes. He had an algebra test that day.
Acquaintance at The Driveway-- hahaha... (pause) what?
Me-- You are aware that Noah is 15 and is not actually on the Pro Tour team, right?
Acquaintance at The Driveway-- He's 15?
Me-- Yes. He still sleeps with the light on.
Acquaintance-- hahaha... (pause) what?

It was a pretty good streak

I've had the same binder for 11 years that I use to keep notes and such on my coaching clients. It stays right next to my computer, as I need to reference the contents of the binder many times per day.

Also next to my computer, and thus next to my binder, is a cup of coffee. It hasn't been the same cup of coffee for 11 years, though. That would be nasty.

But it was today, at 12:51am on Christmas Eve that I spilled coffee on this binder.

I open/close this binder multiple times per day. We're talking more than 10,000 open and closes. All the while with a cup of coffee at various stages of fullness right next to it. And there had never been spillage until tonight.

So, Pete Dahlberg, Phillip Snodgrass and Payson McElveen have some coffee stains on the pages that show me your PRs, some workouts that have worked well, some that didn't, some I want you to do on your next plan, reminders of race schedule, travel dates, etc, etc.

Buon Compleanno

Buddy is 7 years old today! 30s later he was happy, smiling, and not hating me.

Thank goodness it is a broken wrist and torn tendon

Just had the MRI stuff reviewed with the orthopaedist. Doc says that I have a broken wrist and a torn (class 2) tendon. That's good news!

Why?

Because it is has been causing me a lot of pain the last two months (lots of travel to races and then moving), so I'm relieved to hear that I wasn't just being a wuss. I mean, something is wrong with it to justify the pain I felt I was feeling.

Anyway, it's been so long that the bone and tendon are starting to knit back up. My non-treatment has slowed healing, of course. Had I tended to it back in July, it would likely be back to 100% by now. However, we will avoid surgery, which was the big concern over the last week. With surgery, I'm 6 or so weeks from being back to normal. Doc thinks that it has all healed enough that by just keeping it immobilized it will take another 3-4 weeks to be all healed up. So I have a new soft cast/brace thing. It feels a lot better than what I had on for the last week.

So, I'm still a wuss, but at least it is justified somewhat.

Hometown Date Night With Reanie

I'm going to write about my date night with Reanie, but I'm not going to do it justice.

First of all, I left my phone at home. After the first 15 minutes of realizing I didn't have it, I was glad I didn't have it with me anymore. More on this in a bit.

Second of all, I can't write well enough to capture what the night actually felt, but writing this doesn't cost much, and nobody is making you read it anyway, so...

It wasn't really so much a date as it was simply going to a movie with Reanie. We saw Nanny McPhee Returns. Pretty sure that was the name of it. I enjoyed the movie enough, though I hadn't seen the first one. Didn't seem to matter.

There's a movie theater in Wimberley, believe it or not. The Corral Theatre. I've seen it billed as a "Walk In" theater, which is about right. I reckon the place holds 150 people or so. It's outdoors. There are lawnchairs and some bleachers, but many people bring their own folding chairs and blankets. Several kids went all of the way up to the screen to lay on the small stage. Not very good viewing of the movie, I'm sure, but it almost doesn't matter, since it is the place and just being there that has the effect.

It was a clear night. Temps were perfect. Heck, I even put a sweatshirt over my legs towards the end. The stars up above and fireflies dancing about while a perfect movie for parents and kids was on the screen.

The Corral Theatre is just down the road from us. It would be a 35min or so leisurely walk, but we took the jeep down. Speaking of the jeep, I've had the top down since we moved here. It has rained two days since we've been here, but the tree cover is to thorough, that the seats were barely damp at all.

The movies at the Corral Theatre start at dark:30. It says so on the "marquee". They play relatively current flicks every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday evenings from May through September. Reanie and I arrived about 15min before dark, and there were only a few seats left, though the wooden bleachers still had plenty of room. With it being just the two of us, though, we managed to find a good place.

Interestingly, there was zero of that awkwardness of finding a seat or sitting next to people you don't know. Part of it is the intimacy of the place, part of it is that it is a small town, but mostly it is just the vibe of the place where you can let your kids run around without worry, but at the same time, no kids are running around being a nuisance.

Popcorn was $1 for a bucket, and we also indulged with a can of Coke and a Dr Pepper for me. At intermission, which is when they hold a drawing for free tickets to next week's movie, Reanie went up to the concession stand on her own and picked up some candy. Even though the movie was restarted quickly, she found her way back in the dark without trouble.

I'm not sure how much Labor Day weekend had to do with it, but it seemed like a good portion of the crown wasn't local. Then again, I imagine every weekend is like that here since the center of town is just shops and such for tourists. I'm assuming that it is the folks with camera phones taking pictures at and during the movie who were/are the tourists. But to tell you the truth, if I'd had my phone, there would be a couple pics of Reanie and the theatre in this post.

Normally a phone in a theatre is annoying, but everyone was so happy and relaxed, it just wasn't a big deal. I don't remember a phone ringing during the show, but we did hear a few cars go by with loud exhaust and one definitely hot rodding around. But it didn't seem like anyone cared or was disturbed by it. Being outdoors, though, sound was different. You could hear ambient noises like the crickets and "traffic". You could hear the girls in the concession stand talking, though they were being pretty quiet. You could hear people getting resituated in their metal lawn chair. But it was nice. The movie's sound came from two big P.A. type speakers from near the screen. I think the screen is just a bunch of plywood painted white. Perfect.

So, I'm there with a pretty girl who looks as precious as can be. I looked at her several times during the show, and she'd be watching the movie intently with her hand digging for popcorn, and the combination of movie and star light was just so...she will always be 8 years old to me. Tiger print shoes, tie-dyed tights, Tenzing t-shirt, and Texas State ball cap with her sparkling eyes shining intently and sunkissed hair on her shoulders. For $5 entry and a few dollars at the concession stand, I've come away with some priceless memories of the night.

It was just yesterday...

...it was just yesterday that I was riding by this house on Hawk Rd and thought, "I think that is a place Chloe could live in for awhile".

Or maybe it seems like a couple weeks ago, because I rode by this place for a couple of weeks before stopping to really look at it. It happened to have one flyer left, and I took it, stuffed it in my jersey pocket, and rode on home.

We had no business buying this house. Buddy was due in a month, my coaching business was growing faster than I could manage, and we were still in the early stages of The Texas Racing Post, which was also growing rapidly. Reanie was just 1yr old. I was riding again, and we were starting a new cycling team, so I could do it the way I wanted.

We were busy.

But we'd decided that we were going to live up here for a few more years, so we wanted to make something more of it instead of biding our time waiting for Noah to get older. I'm glad we did.

Stella Sola has been a home. Not just for our immediate family, but for several people who have lived here with us, as well. Apple Granny (Chloe's Grandmother), Jordan and Peter (aspiring pro and pro bike racers) and I think Scottie even stayed here for a spell. And, of course, there's been our good friends and extended "family" who have made themselves at home here, which is just the way we wanted it.

We've had great gardens, the chickens, cyclocross courses, soccer fields, parties...this place has been used and loved. Buddy was born in this house. Literally. Chloe gave birth to him in our bedroom. So, while it isn't a fancy place, it is certainly lived in. It's been home.

We're packing up now. Moving to be closer to family and to establish our roots where we originally intended. It's hard to say 'goodbye' to the house I've lived in the longest of any house in my life. We're about to make what is my 30th (at least) move. I don't want to move again after this one. I'm done.

We don't really know what the future holds, but I do know that I intend for this to be the last move for this Clan. We're excited about our new (to us) place and where it is. We'll be close to family (free babysitting), in a town we love, with excellent riding, and if everything keeps clicking along as it has, life and business will be just as great, but it'll slow down for us to breathe it in a little more deeply.

Yes, we're taking the chickens with us. Well, some of them, anyway. The good ones.

Someone else will have to win that jersey today

We promoted a bike race yesterday. Our team puts on a race on the Sunday of Memorial Weekend every year. It's sort of a big deal. Since I lead promote another 6 or 7 races during the year, this one is supposed to be set up that I don't really have to do much. It never really ends up that way, though.

There at 6:30ish, which was earlier than I expected us to get there (good job to all of my family who are not morning people!), and we (Rob Strange is always there before me, even when we are 15min early instead of 15min late) started throwing cones immediately. Good start to the day.

Before we'd even finished setting up the course, I had a racer stop to tell me that he had a better idea for course layout, and then a few minutes later someone told me that a corner needed to be swept (um, let us get to that, please. there's still more than an hour until the first race starts). And so on.

Went inside to use the restroom and wash the cone/barricade grime off of me, and on the way I'm told that there are no pins (used to put on the racer's number). As I walked into the bathroom, a guy I've never met comes out of a stall and says, "you're Christian, right? The coach?".

"Yep. That's me. It's good to see you."
"I've got a coaching questions for you."
" ... ".
"So the turn is about 1K from the finish, but it is a little downhill. Do you think we should set up a lead out like Columbia, or should we have our sprinter fend for himself off of the other teams lead outs since the finish is so fast and hard to control?"
I replied, "I think it is great that y'all are thinking ahead, and it bodes well that y'all are anticipating the finish. I mean no disrespect, but I really have to go to the bathroom..."
He said, "Oh right! ok..."
I went into the stall, sat down, and...

...yes, he kept talking to me. Thank goodness my phone rang, because then at least I could take a minute away from directing his team from a community college bathroom.

Not being able to perform my toilet duty with such an audience, I wrapped up the call, took leave of the potty, washed up, and found the guy was standing outside the damn bathroom door, and he walked with me all the way back to registration. He fired away questions, and I did my best to be pleasant, though I have no idea how convincing I was. My answers were, "Hmm mm," "yep", and such. The longest short walk to registration gave me an out becaue I saw Becky getting ready.

"How is it going here?"
"the printer isn't working"

Ugh.

It's now about 7:30, and I'm walking outside, and we learn that 1) we've forgotten ice for the bake sale, 2) that we can't get the jug for the slushie machine under the faucet, so we have to either fill up the 5 gallons with a small cup or go buy water, and 3) "Hey, Christian, the sprinklers are on at the back side of the course."

Damn it!

I grab my bike to roll over to the side of the course to see if the sprinker thing is an issue and if any of the magic spells I know can be applied to automatic sprinklers at a venue at which I know nobody and have zero pull whatsoever. But first I have to air up my front wheel. Evidently I have a slow leak on my race wheel.

On the way I get a text that the officials don't have a portacan or an open building in which to find a restroom. I help two guys who have crashed during warm up for the race (they were both riding no handed and I swear must have been tied together). No injuries other than embarassment.

the first race hasn't even gone off yet!

It was a long, hot day. It went well for our team, and since our races serve to raise money for our junior team, it's almost always worth it, but I think it is too many races when I start to dread them for whatever reason.

Or maybe I'm just doing it wrong.

The family is beat. Outside all day from 6:30am until 7:30pm. Not getting home until 9:30...

It's State Criterium Championships today, and I'm already registered, but there's just no way it's going to happen. Completely whupped, and if I want to be involved with family plans today, I have 30min to ride to meet them, or I'm the guy who didn't race AND skipped the family outing only to blog and work on Memorial Day.

I'm not going to be that guy.

Out.

On being a Daddy, and having a Training and workout partner

When there's lots of work (worky work-work...as in, my job) for me to do, it's a good thing for the family. But it's also a tough thing, because I don't get to settle in and be Daddy the way I wish I could. I don't get to play bike racer like I wish I could, either.

Not complaining. With my gig, I can stop in the middle of something and wrestle with Buddy or do some gymnastics with Reanie or look at what picture they've drawn or help find the chocolate that Mama has hidden. I'm not on the clock, and my boss isn't in the next cube seeing me go to the vending machine for the 5th time since lunch. Or whatever. I only need to make sure I get what needs to be done, done.

With our silly sport, though, there is that time commitment in that we can't just go to a 45min aereobics class a few times per week and be competitive. Again, not complaining, because that training time is also a decompression, reset, and whatever else "me" time I need. Gawd...I'm 40 and sounding like a fruit cake now.

When work is really heavy, that's when the hour or so to go ride is needed the most. I've got a training buddy who needs to ride, so that helps me push back from my desk, suit up, and roll down the road. And since he has some lofty riding goals and can't realistically go out and train on the roads by himself, yet, I really do have to go out with him.

Mondays are particularly heavy here at the office, and it's usually a light or off day for riding, and it is a day we need to be done early since Noah goes over to Lisa's on Monday evening. Our intent was to squeeze in Family time on Monday afternoons since the evenings and weekends Noah is with us are usually for racing. In the past couple of years, though, we've just not really made family time happen like we should, and that has been coming back to bite us in the collective Williams' butt.

But this past weekend, we took lots of time off of the bike to put in some family time and while it was an awful time to not get in the training, it was the best time to remember that our house is more than a transportation hub with comings and goings and nobody really staying until bath and bed time.

The work stress was adding up, Mama was in bed feeling ill, but the POSS2 were playing contentedly. I wasn't finding the window in work to stop for a bit, so I did something I've never done in 11 years of this gig...I just got up, thought unfinished, plan undone, and got dressed. We made the window to ride.

The wind was blowing, so I knew it was going to be something more than a leisure spin. And just as I pulled on my kit, I heard the rain hitting the window. But Noah didn't hesitate to get dressed, and within a few minutes, we were rolling down Hawk Rd into a 25mph wind. And we just kept heading west.

You know you have a good training partner when you can ride for several hours talking and not get sick of them. Same thing, though, about being able to ride with them and not say anything at all, and that be ok, too.

Yesterday was the latter type of ride, even if it was only an hour. We had a workout agenda, since we'd missed Thursday, Friday and Saturday, but the weather made the scheduled workout impossible, so we just started hammering. No talking, no discussion. We simply went from riding side by side to a two-man time trial.

After about 8 miles, Noah asked where we were going. I suppose it was a valid question to break the silence. Afterall, we'd been hitting it above threshold into the wind and rain and going 13mph at that point. Whether we were going to be chatty or not, it's nice to have an idea how long a beating like that is going to last.

We chose a 20mile loop, and from there, we just hit it like we were a breakaway. I'd pull at my limit, and he'd sense when I was starting fade and come around. I'd recover in his slipstream until it felt like I could lift our pace a bit. And that's how we continued in the stinging rain and hammering winds.

Until we got the tailwind, that is. At that point, we were still "training", but we were really only seeing how fast we could pedal the junior gears. We rolled up and over some decent hills at well over 30mph. We did the best we could with bike handling on the s-turns and slippery roads. Pushing it something past comfortable and into "I can't believe I just did that", and then realizing that maybe we could go faster. Well, ok...that last part only lasted until Noah started sliding out, but still.

Other than the brief discussion about "how far" and a very brief, "Stop pulling through so hard, you are dropping me on the hills", we didn't say anything to each other for that hour. On the cool down part that is a couple miles back to the house, we talked about how the ride sucked, but was really good at the same time. We talked about being glad we went out anyway (he never waivered, but I'm buried at work and didn't have to look for excuses).

And when I walked in the door, Reanie was excited to show me the picture she drew on the computer. Buddy insisted he show me his new dance, spin move, and while Mama was asleep in bed, at least she had a smile on her face (I need to thank whoever she was thinking about).

I stole an hour away from what needed to be a 16hr work day. Other than making sure they were safe, entertained, fed, bathed and put to bed, I wasn't much of a Daddy yesterday to any of them.

But now that I write it out, I feel pretty darn good about what I did do on the day.

Now, back to work.

Sister has her brother's back (and tooth)

Buddy has a wicked earache the last few days. It is bringing him to tears. He's been resting in our bed, his bed, and the guest bed in my office. He's also had a loose tooth that came out yesterday. He was so excited that he brought it down to me, handed it off with a smile, said "here's my tooth", and then went upstairs to watch a movie. That's how excited he was.

But because it was only his second tooth to lose, and partly because Reanie was more excited for him that it seemed he was for himself, we put it in a "special" bag under his pillow.

He didn't make it too long in his own bed last night. Reanie tried to comfort him, but there's not really any amount of stuffed animals or trains you can put in bed with someone to keep their ear drum from rupturing. He ended up in bed with Mama, and I slept in the guest bed.

And neither of us remembered to remind the tooth fairy.

But Reanie remembered, and when she checked (for Buddy) to see if she came, and then saw that she didn't, she took one of her own dollars and put it in the bag, and then she excitedly told Buddy that the Tooth Fairy had visited.


I know I have my shortcomings as a parent. I know my kids aren't perfect. But dangit, something is going right if one of them looks out for the other like that.

things you don't expect to have to say as a parent...

..."Hey, you two stop biting each other's bt's."

bt= butt

Me with my date for The Nutcracker

I win.

It's starting to smell a lot like Christmas...

And to think we just had a conversation about making more.
Each of those is almost 3lbs.
Not sure, yet, if we're making limoncello as well. We need to get on that immediatamente if we are.

Let's Monday!

This is the second Wheaton Maran to hatch this morning.

I'm going to have to get some video, because these two this morning (and another bunch to go over the next couple days) and the 25 week-olds we have inside...it sounds like a bird sanctuary of sorts in the house right now.