the love affair continues

Remember this?

Spring Hill Road has always been a favorite for CIM training (perhaps more painfully at first, more lovingly later).

And now it's a great spot for riding. I got a small group of friends together yesterday and did a 30-mile loop through Chileno Valley and back along Spring Hill. (And yes, the hills are just as bad -- if not slightly worse -- on a bike. At one point, I really wanted to get off and walk, but I was worried that if I stopped, I'd topple over into the road and get hit by a car. So I just kept pedaling. And grunting. And pedaling.)

This was my first ride with the new pedals. I'd been practicing clipping in and out in a doorway ...

... and falling into the doorjamb due to a bad habit of clipping out with one foot and leaning the opposite direction.

So naturally, I was extremely nervous to tackle 30 "intermediate level" miles.

Surprisingly, it went really well. The most challenging thing was clipping in. I had no problem with the first foot, but when it came to clipping in the other, it took me forever to position the pedal the right way, and I'd end up pedaling with one foot and fumbling around with the other. Thankfully, I eventually got the hang of it.

I didn't fall at any stops, but I did have an awkward moment when I made a U-turn, freaked out for some reason, forgot I was clipped in on the right side and tipped over. I unclipped in time, so I didn't actually hit the ground, but I bruised my left shin up pretty badly with my pedal.

Ah, well! Note to self: Next time, don't freak out!

Anyway, it was a fun ride, and as always, I love any time I get to spend with my bike. Can't wait until our next date.

harvesting, cycling

Spent the morning in the vineyards sampling Cabernet grapes with one of our winemakers.

Afterward, we went back to the winery and tasted the fermenting juice -- a little Cab, Merlot, Petite Sirah, Petit Verdot, Viognier and ...

... Chardonnay.

I love this time of year.

*

On another note, a hot little bike got an upgrade today.

Clip-in pedals!

Now all I have to do is learn how to ride with them.

dns

I was reading this post about having a DNS -- do not start -- day. It's one thing to have one DNS, but another to have multiple.

And this year has been the Year of the DNS for me.

First, there was the sprained ankle, which resulted in a DNS at Kaiser, a race I had hoped would be a PR attempt.

The plus side to this: I discovered I am a really good spectator.

Then: New York. My heart still hurts thinking about it. I had high hopes for this marathon. Everything was lined up: The hotel was booked, I was on the VIP bus to the starting line, the ramen research was done, I had made plans to meet up with friends. But then my stupid hip had to protest. (Of course, my physical therapist thinks the hip injury may stem from the ankle sprain throwing everything out of alignment and causing my muscles to fire wrong. Curse you, left leg.)

Ultimately, deferring was the right decision. Only 10 percent of all lottery entrants actually get into the race, and since I'm not fast enough to enter with a qualifying time, this one entry is probably the only shot at New York I'll ever have. So rather than stumble through a once-in-a-lifetime experience in pain and risk a DNF (perhaps even worse than a DNS), I backed out. Hopefully next year I'll be 100 percent and can experience New York at its fullest.

But wait. The DNS action doesn't stop there.

I am actually debating yet another DNS this weekend. I'm signed up for the Healdsburg Half Marathon on Sunday, and there's absolutely no way I can run 13.1 miles. The farthest I've run recently has been a little more than 5 miles. My options: (a) Start the race, only run 7-8 miles and then call someone to come get me from wherever I drop out (my first DNF!), (b) Bring my bike to the race, ride the course and cheer for my friends who are running it or (c) Scrap the whole thing altogether and do something completely different, like maybe hot yoga or a long ride (have I mentioned I'm obsessed with my bike?) or even swimming.

Overall, this year hasn't turned out at all as planned.

socal

Headed south for a quick trip to Lala land this weekend. The visit started with my mom's first-ever attempt at ramen.

She made a chicken-based broth and used Filipino noodles. Not exactly authentic, but still really comforting -- and much, much better than anything I've ever tried to do myself. (Um, package of Top Ramen, anyone?)

Then I went to the beach.

If there's one thing I miss about Southern California, it's the ocean.

I lay on the sand, watched people fly kites (there was a pirate ship-shaped kite!) and read my dorky book.

And then I went to Jinya for -- you guessed it -- more ramen.

I ordered the Hakata-style bowl. I know I've had it before, and maybe I should've tried something different, but the super-thick porky broth was just too good to resist.

My parents also got ramen.

I think this must be what happily ever after looks like!

apparently, I cycle now

I'll admit it -- when I got to GranFondo last Saturday, I was intimidated. There were 7,500 people in very expensive spandex outfits with very expensive aerodynamic helmets (out of curiosity, am I the only one who wonders why you would pay $200 for a hat that makes you look like an alien?) and absolutely insanely expensive bikes. And all of these people were crammed in together, bike against bike, waiting to cross the starting line.

I felt like a big amateur with my paddle pedals (that's right -- I haven't even graduated to clip-ins yet), my $30 visor helmet and my street shoes. I also felt extremely claustrophobic.

So I went to the very back.

Literally, the very, very back. As in, my friend and I were the absolute last people to cross the starting line, and the announcer was telling us we needed to move faster.

Apparently, I took this to heart. Because after I stopped feeling so self-conscious, I discovered I am actually not a bad cyclist. In fact, I found myself continually panting "On your left" to other riders and passing them on the hills. That's right -- you people in your spandex and your carbon frames and your clippy pedals? Bubbye!

I also found myself talking to my bike a lot. At one point, I actually said "babe." Yes, my sanity may be questionable, but I think this means the relationship is official. I understand her gears now -- and we used them to our advantage Saturday -- so proud of my little green devil!

(Seriously, my bike is so cute. Swoon.)

The course was absolutely gorgeous -- imagine riding down winding country roads in the crisp air while leaves fall from the trees around you like confetti. Perfect autumn experience. (And how can you not call your bike "babe" when you're having what is clearly such a romantic date?)

Anyway, aside from the accident just before the turnaround point at Occidental (two older men down in the road, flat on their backs and being loaded onto stretchers while everyone else walked their bikes around) and the fact that my parts were simultaneously numb and chafed after the ride (it was so bad that it hurt to pee), I had a fantastic time and would definitely do it again -- although next time, with chamois cream.

(Added GranFondo perk: I spotted Patrick Dempsey in the VIP tent at the post-race festival. And perhaps even more awesome than McDreamy: I was standing at the finish line when Mark-Paul Gosselaar -- a.k.a. Zack from "Saved by the Bell" -- came across.)

And here's the biggest surprise of all: I don't know how on earth this happened, but when I checked the GranFondo results today, I discovered I came in second in my age group, with a total time of 2:38:29.2. And I was 17th for gender and 47th overall.

Seriously, WTF. This had to be the slowpoke group, right?