Well, it has certainly been quiet around here!
Sorry for that; I really enjoyed writing the previous post, and I have had a lot of things that I would like to talk about, however... I just have not had the energy to write. Writing is a bit of a catharsis to me, and I put a lot of energy into it.
So I went for a run today in Waterloo, Iowa. My goal was roughly a 5K in 30 minutes. Not a bad time; That is the pace that I want to be able to hold for long distances. I have only run a single 5K under 30, though, and that was the FLW 5K last year; that was 28: and change, which is still my personal best.
So I knocked out today in 30:34, and it was a smidge longer than 5K. I feel good about that. I am running the Thanksgiving Turkey Trot the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and I am going to shoot for about that time. I felt great after my run today.
But that is not what I am writing about, not really.
While I was running along the river, I jogged past a girl. She was sitting on the rocks uphill (barely) from me, wrapped in a stained jacket, gloves on, knit hat on; just sitting. She looked up as I went by, and her eyes were sunk into her head, giving her a bit of a haunted look. Dark circles around her eyes, and she had dark hair.
Why was she there?
There are numerous explanations, of course, but by the state of her jacket I would presume she is basically homeless, or at least on the verge; the jacket was pretty unkempt, and not something most people would wear if they had access to another jacket; plus, it had warmed up a bit, I would think almost anyone would have at least shed the jacket and enjoyed sitting in the sunshine.
Then my mind continued....
Somewhere along the lines, she was a little girl. Did she have a family growing up? Was she abandoned? Mom, for sure, but dad? brothers? sisters? Somewhere are there pictures of her in a school yearbook, or pictures of her and friend. Do they know what happened to the girl they grew up with? Very few people grow up in essentially a vacuum, so it is likely she had some kind of childhood. How had she arrived at this state of affairs? Did she do this to herself (ruin your own life through addiction and bad decisions,) or did she make most of the right decisions and life would just not throw her a break?
Weird moment as I write this in my hotel room-- my room looks Southwest, across a busy interstate. I had just looked up, taking a short pause to think a bit more about what I wanted to write, and two car carriers went by, both with a Lamborghini (one orange, one red) on it's bed.
Here I am writing about a girl who has by some measure had some type of misfortune (or fortune... fate is mysterious, but I would guess not in this case,) and I see a pair of examples on what great wealth can produce. I am not knocking expensive cars; People with money buy them, drive them. The employ builders, designers, workers, mechanics... and entire small network devoted to producing, selling, marketing, and maintaining those cars... I would hope that they buy more, and there are more to buy and more people to buy them!
But the comparison would be interesting; if this girl I ran past grew up here in ALO, and there is a good chance that that is so, then those two cars were probably worth more money than she has ever seen in her life. And money is certainly not everything, but let's face it... being poor sucks.
Sometimes you wonder.
Friday, November 15, 2013
Saturday, September 28, 2013
What we do
For my pilot friends and friends of pilots....
I love my job, I love what I do. Flying airplanes for a living is a dream. I never thought I would be lucky enough to do it. It takes years of work, which is not an exaggeration. While I did not take the most expeditious route as a career, I still put in my time, building hours (= experience in the air,) delivering airplanes for a dealer (numerous trips across the Rockies in single engine aircraft, with a couple pleasure trips thrown in,) gave some sightseeing tours, etc...
[Side note-- single engine at night over the mountains in actual IFR conditions... Good Heavens, as an older, grayer pilot, I don't know if I could do that again. There is an old saying that as a pilot gets older, the yellow streak across his back should get wider... and wider... and wider....] [ I deliberately use the pronoun 'he,' because most women start out with a lot more common sense than men do... y'all are born with it, we have to be scared into it.]
Sometimes we forget what a magical world we get to live and work in. Between company politics, union politics, the Feds, our passengers, our coworkers, the weather.... We forget.
We see ourselves as glorified bus drivers, quite often. The way a great deal of our coworkers and passengers behave, it is quite obvious that they perceive us that way, too, and the craft that we fly as buses.
This should not be a surprise, just by the way we treat ourselves.
I am not a 100% go go company/wave the flag kind of guy; I have my own issues on a sometimes daily basis with the management peeps, we all do. That is part of life.
Maybe it is that 'older grayer,' but what happened to Professionalism?
Why is it that walking through the terminal earlier today, for the all of 40 minutes I was in ORD between flights, I saw 2 pilots walking around with their ties hanging down, shirt top unbuttoned, one with a shirt tail untucked from his pants? Sigh.... Yeah, I am just getting old.
So here is what I got to do at work today, 3rd leg of 3 flying.
Lexington Bluegrass, Kentucky, to Dallas/Fort Worth, Texas.
We could see a line of weather was moving in from the West slowly towards DFW. SOC (dispatch) had planned us with plenty of fuel, both for holding purposes and for diverting to an alternate. That's good, pilots like fuel. Fuel makes us happy. Even if the fuel were on fire, we think 'hhmm... I think I can still get to some of that if I need it before we have to put it out.'
Our planned Alternate is Texarkana. (TXK.) This is what the top of our dispatch release looks like, and I will decode it for you:
So, starting from the top left, you would read this in English as:
Instrument Flight Release Eagle Flight 3196/on the 28th,
Aircraft 856 / American Registration # N856AE,
from Lexington, KY to DFW, TX, with an Alternate of Texarkana.
Minimum Take Off Fuel at brake release to start the take off roll is 9487 lbs,
with a Release Fuel at departure time off the gate of 10,435 lbs.
Total fuel burn is planned at 4,978 lbs, (which includes taxi fuel)
with a planned Arrival Fuel of 5,457 lbs (or 2 hours, 43 mins)
if you need to go to your Alternate from the Missed Approach at DFW, it is at Flight Level 170,
with the ATC codes for that route to Texarkana.
Makes sense, they just use shorthand to save time/paper/make us feel older.
We did not think we were going to beat the weather to DFW, we had almost 2 hours of flying ahead of us, and it was just West of the airport. But we had plenty of fuel, so we were ready to go.
The first 1 + 40 of the flight went perfectly smooth. No problems, just like planned. In fact, to the right is what the flight from the day prior looks like. That is about as straight a line as you can get in aviation. Let's hear it for direct routing!
Around Little Rock, where you see the prior day's routing make a bit of a right turn, they moved us over onto another arrival procedure, to take us on a more southerly routing to the airport. No problem, that is what multiple Arrival Procedures are for.
Here is the route we actually flew, after turning south at Little Rock (looks a little different.):
This is where it starts getting dicey.
We could hear the Center controllers telling the flights ahead of us to look up a certain 'intersection' even further south, to be assigned that 'transition' onto the arrival, and to expect holding at that approach fix. So, we know what we are in for.
Now we start getting faced with options. We are flying slightly faster than our planned cruise speed, which burns a bit more fuel, but you are in the air for a shorter period of time. On flights of our length, the 5-10 minute difference is normally a wash, but heading into decreasing weather, 5 minutes of fuel can be an eternity as you watch the numbers slowly drop.
We dropped to slightly slower than our planned cruise speed, since we knew they were already holding at that intersection. No big sense in flying full speed into a holding pattern; we can eat up some time by slowing down a bit now, save some gas, and increase our holding time.
ATC gave us the hold, and we told them we were slowing enroute to the hold to our holding speed. They said to expect further clearance in 40 minutes (actually, they give a time limit on the clock, but it was 40 minutes out, so it makes more sense to write it this way, contextually.)
We were planned with 35 minutes of Holding Fuel, but we were also planned with 200 lbs (11 minutes) of taxi fuel, and I know we only used 100 lbs of that by the time we took off, so that gave us another 100 in the 'bank,' plus we were slightly ahead of the fuel game arriving at the hold, because we had slowed down enough to make up for the slightly fast flying we had done earlier. Whew!
When they plan our "Fuel to Alternate," It is based on going all the way to our destination, doing a "Missed Approach," (go around, bolter, wave-off, bump and run...) and then flying to our Alternate. Well, we were already flying close to our alternate, so maybe we could find a closer alternate with decent weather so we could amend out flight plan and use that fuel to give us more holding time?
Time to abuse the dispatcher. They do all the computer entries and planning for us, because we don't have the capability to do that in the air in real time the way that they do.
We moved our Alternate to GGG (Gregg Country, TX,) so our alternate fuel burn dropped, which means we had more fuel to play with.
That gave us some time (fuel = time... once you take off, the clock is ticking, because unlike military aircraft, we don't have a way to get more gas in the air.)
We continued to dig for weather for airports that were closer, in case we could move closer, plus we needed to be able to answer the question "IF we divert, where will we go?"
We flew around the holding pattern, which is a pre-planned racetrack-type pattern designed to provide a safe area around the aircraft contained within. We had a bunch of planes above us, but slowly planes were leaving the pattern below us. This is normally a good thing-- ATC brings you into the pattern top to bottom, slowly pops flights off the bottom, and we work our way down the 'stack' until it is our turn to head in.
This time, the planes below us were giving up and going to their Alternate destinations to wait out the weather, get some more gas, etc, instead of being cleared towards DFW. Ruh-roh... that's a bad sign.
They extended our holding time (Gave us a later Expect Further Clearance Time,) and we knew were were starting to get up against a wall, with regards to fuel. We keep track of our fuel as we hold, and we were perfectly configured for the hold, burning as little gas as possible to wait out our time. Eventually, the clock runs out.
We convinced SOC to move our Alternate again, and after he moved it he wrote back "Good thing, we would have had to change it, GGG and TXK are no longer taking diversions, they have too many on the ground. SHV is also not taking anyone." [This, btw, does not have the force of law, or anything; we could have diverted there, they just didn't have room for us operationally (stairs, generators, etc.) which could be a major headache (what if it takes 4 or 5 hours for the storm to blow over, what do we do with the passengers trapped on the airplane??) but we can always land there... it might just not be brilliant!]
TYR (Tyler, TX) is now our new alternate, and it is right off of our right hand side in the hold.
By now, the weather had moved East enough that it was going to be a problem in our holding pattern. In addition to that, we were facing a quick drop in to TYR, or crossing a bit of the weather (but not the nasty bits) to get south to Waco (ACT.) A Delta flight asked if they could move to a track further north to avoid the weather, and hold at a fix there. ATC asked us if that would work at our altitude, too, and I told my FO to reply "Sure, we can get there."
So we started to the new hold, and my FO was starting to get cautious. He had worked out what we needed to get across the weather and into both Waco and Wichita Falls. We heard them start to take flights all the way south and around to basically over West Texas, and there was no way we were going to be able to do that. We just did not have the fuel (lucky dogs, those 767s!)
As we entered the new hold, I knew our time was going to be running out, and we certainly didn't want to wait till the weather completely overran our current (and right below us) Alternate, nor did I want it to 'close the door' for us to reach Waco (which was actually going downhill faster.)
As we entered the hold, I said "If we come back around over this fix again, I want you to call ATC and tell them we're pulling the plug and dropping into TYR; Let's not get stuck up here (as the options disappear)"
We made the first turn in the hold, and ATC asked us if we could take a path of Waco. I knew the direction 'line-of-sight' from where we were, and there was a clear shot across a small cloud ridge there (That should also put us most of the way onto the other side of the weather, where assuredly the sun was shining, the grass was green, the breezes were soft, and we had more options to land!) So I told my FO "Take whatever they offer us, we're going to go to the other side," and shot off a quick message to our dispatcher to see if we could change our Alternate to AFW (Alliance Fort Worth, TX, which is right next to (relatively) DFW. While not the best bet for our passengers, it would allow us to fuel up and jump right over to DFW, because we would be on the 'clear' side of the storm front.)
As we passed over Waco, ATC cleared us via a long arrival from very far North West of the airport. That was just not going to work. If we went out that far, we'd never make it back. I said "What are they doing, putting us behind someone just rotating out of El Paso? IF they take us more than 50 miles west of Waco, we're going to Wichita Falls, sound good?"(Waco had finally had the weather close in on them.)
My FO was reluctant; he wanted to just drop right in to TYR, but we had the fuel to make the trip to SPS (Wichita Falls,) plus we had Alliance in our back pocket as the 'real' alternate. I knew that ATC was giving us a full long clearance to get us headed towards the traffic filing in to DFW from the West, but I didn't imagine they would take us that far out.
I certainly hoped that they didn't.
As we made the turn and started working our way northwest, we pulled up some more weather, but we could visually see quite a bit more than we could further east. Then, only a short distance along, ATC said to turn right and go direct JEN (Glen Rose VOR, which chopped about 150 miles off the arrival we were heading out towards.... which was just what I expected.)
The Delta that had started us that way said "If Eagle thinks he sees a hole, I'm following him all the way in," and they were cleared out of the hold and along our path behind us.
We were given a few heading changes, slowly working our way towards DFW from the southwest now. Barely a bump in the clouds, and actually we were mostly outside the clouds by this point.
From there, we just picked our way through the weather, made a normal beautiful approach, and landed at DFW; plenty of gas in the tank, too.
We taxied in to a pretty deserted terminal. "Of course!" my FO said; "They all diverted!"
Not this time for us, anyways. I have diverted before, gotten stuck in the wrong city, had myself or my crew go 'illegal' due to FAA/DOT mandated duty time limitations, which strands our passengers (and ourselves) in cities... totally for safety (by the time you reach the limits, believe me, you are pretty shot.)
But this is the kind of flying that I like (not all the time!)
It is a challenge. How can we maximize our hold time? What can we move to make it more likely we can complete our mission? What is the best way to handle this as the weather goes down the tubes and we are faced with decreasing options and less time to make the decisions given those options (eventually you are faced with a single decision regarding a single option... which is a place you should fight to never be... few options = no bueno.)
This is why pilots are different. We make these decisions, and we have a planeload of people who essentially have no say in the matter other than they purchased their tickets and they expect to be taken to their destination; safely, hopefully on time, and with a minimum of fuss.
Our dispatchers can't really tell us where to go... although most of the time it would behoove us to listen to their advice, but; they're sometimes hundreds of miles away and sitting in a chair in a building.
Even ATC can't actually make us do something... after all, if in the interest if safety we decide there is a better course of action... well... then that is what we are going to do! (That is part of the job, after all.)
I have said for a long time that runways are magical; they are where the sky and the land intersect... where the airplane changes your world. 5,000-13,000.... that's about it, that is all the concrete you get. But with that little bit of concrete, you get all of the sky... and who gets that concrete?
And who gets to make that world connect? Who is the one who takes the leap?
We do. Nobody else gets to do it. People dream of it, but we get to live it.
We are not bus drivers, or truck drivers, or anything of that sort.
Who is it, who gets........
To really enjoy John Gillespie Magee's words, read them slowly... savor them. That is a taste of what it is like to fly!
....' on laughter-silvered wings '....
Nearly all of my pilot friends have done the flight, or one similar to the one I did today... they come up a few times a year (hopefully that rarely!) Sometimes we divert, because things just do not work out in our favor; thankfully, it generally works out that we can find a way through. I was lucky enough to spend 10 years as an FO working with a number of very skilled Captains before I took the upgrade to Captain myself (and a few whose interpersonal skills left something to be desired, but what can you do? People are different.)
While we were not born with wings, we have earned them... and that does make us a little different.
The pilot flying a load of cancelled checks across Lake Michigan in December. She is flying low because the forecast was for icing in the cloud layers; she is not even up to her planned cruising altitude, which would give her some margin of safety to glide to shore in the event her single engine failed over the 38F lake water, but this plane always runs rough, there is only a little ice forming on the wings, and it is accreting slowly... going south to stay over shore takes too long, she has a schedule to keep.... just keep running, dear sweet engine, and get me across the lake again, she says to the Cessna 210, as she shines her slowly dying flashlight back, studying the bottom of the wing, watching the ice slowly form.
The pilots who have been holding due to delays; they finally left on their last leg, plane is full, after hours and hours of delays from storms. They make the 2 hour flight across to Montreal; The sun is starting to come up, it is May, so it is rising early, or are they so late? As the sun rises, fog rolls in, blocking out the approaches to the airport, sending them into a missed approach and out to hold while they wait for a little fog to burn off, as their fuel also burns off.... " The fog was not part of the forecast, but how old was that forecast before we left, and I hope that damn sun burns the fog off as it is burning into my eyes; I've been up for 19 hours, and caffeine has stopped working for me; I just want to land.... that damn fog better burn off...."
The pilot sitting amid-ships on the aircraft carrier in the dark, in pitching seas in the Indian Ocean. She is in her F-14, she was one of the last classes, and she will probably be the last female pilot to fly the mighty Tomcat. Her squardon mates have repeatedly boltered; she is sitting ready to launch should the need arise with extra fuel to refuel them in the dark and stormy night. This is her first cruise, and even long time veterans can't hook the wire. Once she launches, one way or another she will have to return to the ship. What is going through her mind as she watches her mates miss the wire and fly off in showers of sparks, sound and fury as they light the afterburners to escape a terrible fate?
The pilot is slowly easing up on the Collective in his gunship; he has been hovering just off of a ridge line, while a small team of Marines is working their way across a field and some obstacles to get in position for whatever hell they are planning on unleashing this evening. He scans his instruments... everything is right in heli-world (a world held aloft by forces working against each other,) he is just waiting for the call in case he needs to provide support. Those Marines are our Marines, but in his eyes, they are HIS Marines. Whatever he needs to do, however he needs to bend and shape his machine to fit the bill to come to their defense, he is willing to put it all on the line to bring them protection, cover fire, help, anything.
Except for this particular F-14 pilot (PBS's Carrier documentary) I know the pilots of those planes personally, they have told me their stories. I've heard probably a thousand variations on them, too.
We sacrificed; we bled; we did shit jobs to get our dream job. Numerous times, many of us have risked Death (Him whose name shall not be spoken.) I know plenty of pilots who cleaned sewers, threw bags, washed dishes, fueled planes, fought wars, flew in the wee hours so that they could do the job of dreams.
And that is what we do. How can we ever lose sight of that? We have a dream job.
So yes, pilots are special.
...and We are pilots, after all.
I love my job, I love what I do. Flying airplanes for a living is a dream. I never thought I would be lucky enough to do it. It takes years of work, which is not an exaggeration. While I did not take the most expeditious route as a career, I still put in my time, building hours (= experience in the air,) delivering airplanes for a dealer (numerous trips across the Rockies in single engine aircraft, with a couple pleasure trips thrown in,) gave some sightseeing tours, etc...
[Side note-- single engine at night over the mountains in actual IFR conditions... Good Heavens, as an older, grayer pilot, I don't know if I could do that again. There is an old saying that as a pilot gets older, the yellow streak across his back should get wider... and wider... and wider....] [ I deliberately use the pronoun 'he,' because most women start out with a lot more common sense than men do... y'all are born with it, we have to be scared into it.]
Sometimes we forget what a magical world we get to live and work in. Between company politics, union politics, the Feds, our passengers, our coworkers, the weather.... We forget.
We see ourselves as glorified bus drivers, quite often. The way a great deal of our coworkers and passengers behave, it is quite obvious that they perceive us that way, too, and the craft that we fly as buses.
This should not be a surprise, just by the way we treat ourselves.
I am not a 100% go go company/wave the flag kind of guy; I have my own issues on a sometimes daily basis with the management peeps, we all do. That is part of life.
Maybe it is that 'older grayer,' but what happened to Professionalism?
Why is it that walking through the terminal earlier today, for the all of 40 minutes I was in ORD between flights, I saw 2 pilots walking around with their ties hanging down, shirt top unbuttoned, one with a shirt tail untucked from his pants? Sigh.... Yeah, I am just getting old.
So here is what I got to do at work today, 3rd leg of 3 flying.
Lexington Bluegrass, Kentucky, to Dallas/Fort Worth, Texas.
We could see a line of weather was moving in from the West slowly towards DFW. SOC (dispatch) had planned us with plenty of fuel, both for holding purposes and for diverting to an alternate. That's good, pilots like fuel. Fuel makes us happy. Even if the fuel were on fire, we think 'hhmm... I think I can still get to some of that if I need it before we have to put it out.'
Our planned Alternate is Texarkana. (TXK.) This is what the top of our dispatch release looks like, and I will decode it for you:
So, starting from the top left, you would read this in English as:
Instrument Flight Release Eagle Flight 3196/on the 28th,
Aircraft 856 / American Registration # N856AE,
from Lexington, KY to DFW, TX, with an Alternate of Texarkana.
Minimum Take Off Fuel at brake release to start the take off roll is 9487 lbs,
with a Release Fuel at departure time off the gate of 10,435 lbs.
Total fuel burn is planned at 4,978 lbs, (which includes taxi fuel)
with a planned Arrival Fuel of 5,457 lbs (or 2 hours, 43 mins)
if you need to go to your Alternate from the Missed Approach at DFW, it is at Flight Level 170,
with the ATC codes for that route to Texarkana.
Makes sense, they just use shorthand to save time/paper/make us feel older.
We did not think we were going to beat the weather to DFW, we had almost 2 hours of flying ahead of us, and it was just West of the airport. But we had plenty of fuel, so we were ready to go.
The first 1 + 40 of the flight went perfectly smooth. No problems, just like planned. In fact, to the right is what the flight from the day prior looks like. That is about as straight a line as you can get in aviation. Let's hear it for direct routing!
Around Little Rock, where you see the prior day's routing make a bit of a right turn, they moved us over onto another arrival procedure, to take us on a more southerly routing to the airport. No problem, that is what multiple Arrival Procedures are for.
Here is the route we actually flew, after turning south at Little Rock (looks a little different.):
This is where it starts getting dicey.
We could hear the Center controllers telling the flights ahead of us to look up a certain 'intersection' even further south, to be assigned that 'transition' onto the arrival, and to expect holding at that approach fix. So, we know what we are in for.
Now we start getting faced with options. We are flying slightly faster than our planned cruise speed, which burns a bit more fuel, but you are in the air for a shorter period of time. On flights of our length, the 5-10 minute difference is normally a wash, but heading into decreasing weather, 5 minutes of fuel can be an eternity as you watch the numbers slowly drop.
We dropped to slightly slower than our planned cruise speed, since we knew they were already holding at that intersection. No big sense in flying full speed into a holding pattern; we can eat up some time by slowing down a bit now, save some gas, and increase our holding time.
ATC gave us the hold, and we told them we were slowing enroute to the hold to our holding speed. They said to expect further clearance in 40 minutes (actually, they give a time limit on the clock, but it was 40 minutes out, so it makes more sense to write it this way, contextually.)
We were planned with 35 minutes of Holding Fuel, but we were also planned with 200 lbs (11 minutes) of taxi fuel, and I know we only used 100 lbs of that by the time we took off, so that gave us another 100 in the 'bank,' plus we were slightly ahead of the fuel game arriving at the hold, because we had slowed down enough to make up for the slightly fast flying we had done earlier. Whew!
When they plan our "Fuel to Alternate," It is based on going all the way to our destination, doing a "Missed Approach," (go around, bolter, wave-off, bump and run...) and then flying to our Alternate. Well, we were already flying close to our alternate, so maybe we could find a closer alternate with decent weather so we could amend out flight plan and use that fuel to give us more holding time?
Time to abuse the dispatcher. They do all the computer entries and planning for us, because we don't have the capability to do that in the air in real time the way that they do.
We moved our Alternate to GGG (Gregg Country, TX,) so our alternate fuel burn dropped, which means we had more fuel to play with.
That gave us some time (fuel = time... once you take off, the clock is ticking, because unlike military aircraft, we don't have a way to get more gas in the air.)
We continued to dig for weather for airports that were closer, in case we could move closer, plus we needed to be able to answer the question "IF we divert, where will we go?"
We flew around the holding pattern, which is a pre-planned racetrack-type pattern designed to provide a safe area around the aircraft contained within. We had a bunch of planes above us, but slowly planes were leaving the pattern below us. This is normally a good thing-- ATC brings you into the pattern top to bottom, slowly pops flights off the bottom, and we work our way down the 'stack' until it is our turn to head in.
This time, the planes below us were giving up and going to their Alternate destinations to wait out the weather, get some more gas, etc, instead of being cleared towards DFW. Ruh-roh... that's a bad sign.
They extended our holding time (Gave us a later Expect Further Clearance Time,) and we knew were were starting to get up against a wall, with regards to fuel. We keep track of our fuel as we hold, and we were perfectly configured for the hold, burning as little gas as possible to wait out our time. Eventually, the clock runs out.
We convinced SOC to move our Alternate again, and after he moved it he wrote back "Good thing, we would have had to change it, GGG and TXK are no longer taking diversions, they have too many on the ground. SHV is also not taking anyone." [This, btw, does not have the force of law, or anything; we could have diverted there, they just didn't have room for us operationally (stairs, generators, etc.) which could be a major headache (what if it takes 4 or 5 hours for the storm to blow over, what do we do with the passengers trapped on the airplane??) but we can always land there... it might just not be brilliant!]
TYR (Tyler, TX) is now our new alternate, and it is right off of our right hand side in the hold.
By now, the weather had moved East enough that it was going to be a problem in our holding pattern. In addition to that, we were facing a quick drop in to TYR, or crossing a bit of the weather (but not the nasty bits) to get south to Waco (ACT.) A Delta flight asked if they could move to a track further north to avoid the weather, and hold at a fix there. ATC asked us if that would work at our altitude, too, and I told my FO to reply "Sure, we can get there."
So we started to the new hold, and my FO was starting to get cautious. He had worked out what we needed to get across the weather and into both Waco and Wichita Falls. We heard them start to take flights all the way south and around to basically over West Texas, and there was no way we were going to be able to do that. We just did not have the fuel (lucky dogs, those 767s!)
As we entered the new hold, I knew our time was going to be running out, and we certainly didn't want to wait till the weather completely overran our current (and right below us) Alternate, nor did I want it to 'close the door' for us to reach Waco (which was actually going downhill faster.)
As we entered the hold, I said "If we come back around over this fix again, I want you to call ATC and tell them we're pulling the plug and dropping into TYR; Let's not get stuck up here (as the options disappear)"
 |
| Weather, amended releases, more amendments... killing trees! |
As we passed over Waco, ATC cleared us via a long arrival from very far North West of the airport. That was just not going to work. If we went out that far, we'd never make it back. I said "What are they doing, putting us behind someone just rotating out of El Paso? IF they take us more than 50 miles west of Waco, we're going to Wichita Falls, sound good?"(Waco had finally had the weather close in on them.)
My FO was reluctant; he wanted to just drop right in to TYR, but we had the fuel to make the trip to SPS (Wichita Falls,) plus we had Alliance in our back pocket as the 'real' alternate. I knew that ATC was giving us a full long clearance to get us headed towards the traffic filing in to DFW from the West, but I didn't imagine they would take us that far out.
I certainly hoped that they didn't.
As we made the turn and started working our way northwest, we pulled up some more weather, but we could visually see quite a bit more than we could further east. Then, only a short distance along, ATC said to turn right and go direct JEN (Glen Rose VOR, which chopped about 150 miles off the arrival we were heading out towards.... which was just what I expected.)
The Delta that had started us that way said "If Eagle thinks he sees a hole, I'm following him all the way in," and they were cleared out of the hold and along our path behind us.
We were given a few heading changes, slowly working our way towards DFW from the southwest now. Barely a bump in the clouds, and actually we were mostly outside the clouds by this point.
From there, we just picked our way through the weather, made a normal beautiful approach, and landed at DFW; plenty of gas in the tank, too.
We taxied in to a pretty deserted terminal. "Of course!" my FO said; "They all diverted!"
Not this time for us, anyways. I have diverted before, gotten stuck in the wrong city, had myself or my crew go 'illegal' due to FAA/DOT mandated duty time limitations, which strands our passengers (and ourselves) in cities... totally for safety (by the time you reach the limits, believe me, you are pretty shot.)
But this is the kind of flying that I like (not all the time!)
It is a challenge. How can we maximize our hold time? What can we move to make it more likely we can complete our mission? What is the best way to handle this as the weather goes down the tubes and we are faced with decreasing options and less time to make the decisions given those options (eventually you are faced with a single decision regarding a single option... which is a place you should fight to never be... few options = no bueno.)
This is why pilots are different. We make these decisions, and we have a planeload of people who essentially have no say in the matter other than they purchased their tickets and they expect to be taken to their destination; safely, hopefully on time, and with a minimum of fuss.
Our dispatchers can't really tell us where to go... although most of the time it would behoove us to listen to their advice, but; they're sometimes hundreds of miles away and sitting in a chair in a building.
Even ATC can't actually make us do something... after all, if in the interest if safety we decide there is a better course of action... well... then that is what we are going to do! (That is part of the job, after all.)
I have said for a long time that runways are magical; they are where the sky and the land intersect... where the airplane changes your world. 5,000-13,000.... that's about it, that is all the concrete you get. But with that little bit of concrete, you get all of the sky... and who gets that concrete?
And who gets to make that world connect? Who is the one who takes the leap?
We do. Nobody else gets to do it. People dream of it, but we get to live it.
We are not bus drivers, or truck drivers, or anything of that sort.
Who is it, who gets........
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.
Where never lark, or even eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
- Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
To really enjoy John Gillespie Magee's words, read them slowly... savor them. That is a taste of what it is like to fly!
....' on laughter-silvered wings '....
 |
| AA 737 contrail in the hold as we arrive |
While we were not born with wings, we have earned them... and that does make us a little different.
The pilot flying a load of cancelled checks across Lake Michigan in December. She is flying low because the forecast was for icing in the cloud layers; she is not even up to her planned cruising altitude, which would give her some margin of safety to glide to shore in the event her single engine failed over the 38F lake water, but this plane always runs rough, there is only a little ice forming on the wings, and it is accreting slowly... going south to stay over shore takes too long, she has a schedule to keep.... just keep running, dear sweet engine, and get me across the lake again, she says to the Cessna 210, as she shines her slowly dying flashlight back, studying the bottom of the wing, watching the ice slowly form.
The pilots who have been holding due to delays; they finally left on their last leg, plane is full, after hours and hours of delays from storms. They make the 2 hour flight across to Montreal; The sun is starting to come up, it is May, so it is rising early, or are they so late? As the sun rises, fog rolls in, blocking out the approaches to the airport, sending them into a missed approach and out to hold while they wait for a little fog to burn off, as their fuel also burns off.... " The fog was not part of the forecast, but how old was that forecast before we left, and I hope that damn sun burns the fog off as it is burning into my eyes; I've been up for 19 hours, and caffeine has stopped working for me; I just want to land.... that damn fog better burn off...."
The pilot sitting amid-ships on the aircraft carrier in the dark, in pitching seas in the Indian Ocean. She is in her F-14, she was one of the last classes, and she will probably be the last female pilot to fly the mighty Tomcat. Her squardon mates have repeatedly boltered; she is sitting ready to launch should the need arise with extra fuel to refuel them in the dark and stormy night. This is her first cruise, and even long time veterans can't hook the wire. Once she launches, one way or another she will have to return to the ship. What is going through her mind as she watches her mates miss the wire and fly off in showers of sparks, sound and fury as they light the afterburners to escape a terrible fate?
The pilot is slowly easing up on the Collective in his gunship; he has been hovering just off of a ridge line, while a small team of Marines is working their way across a field and some obstacles to get in position for whatever hell they are planning on unleashing this evening. He scans his instruments... everything is right in heli-world (a world held aloft by forces working against each other,) he is just waiting for the call in case he needs to provide support. Those Marines are our Marines, but in his eyes, they are HIS Marines. Whatever he needs to do, however he needs to bend and shape his machine to fit the bill to come to their defense, he is willing to put it all on the line to bring them protection, cover fire, help, anything.
Except for this particular F-14 pilot (PBS's Carrier documentary) I know the pilots of those planes personally, they have told me their stories. I've heard probably a thousand variations on them, too.
We sacrificed; we bled; we did shit jobs to get our dream job. Numerous times, many of us have risked Death (Him whose name shall not be spoken.) I know plenty of pilots who cleaned sewers, threw bags, washed dishes, fueled planes, fought wars, flew in the wee hours so that they could do the job of dreams.
And that is what we do. How can we ever lose sight of that? We have a dream job.
So yes, pilots are special.
...and We are pilots, after all.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
A Rant
Hello again!
Ok, this is going to be much more of a rant than usual, and I expect to offend some people. There will be tough love involved, and if you are offended, well... Too bad. Harden The Fuck Up and Hike The Fuck Out (there will also be swearing for emphasis.)
Here we go.
So, on an unnamed airline today (not necessarily the airline I fly for; I've been in this industry a while, ya know) one of the female passengers was sexually molested by the male passenger who was sitting next to her.
Yes, that's right. Right out there in the open. When the FA came by, the molester said "we're together;" the FA was pretty new, and didn't know how to handle the situation. Maybe she thought they had arrived separately for something clandestine, who knows, but for whatever reason, she did not pick up on that as a lie.
We'll take a break here so I can give you a little story about myself.
Quite a few years ago, I was on the Blue Line (Chicago ELevated train line) coming home from the western suburbs. Where I lived at the time, this was a jaunt.. probably a good hour from the Western end of the Blue Line to my stop, which would be Addison or Irving Park, based on which direction I came from... I lived midway between the two, so I just got off at whichever came first.
So, there I am on the train.
We'd left Clark/Lake, and were working our way northwest, and there were maybe a dozen people on the train. A girl that had been further forward in the car sat across from me, but diagonally across the doors. Then a man sat down in the row behind her, and starting talking under his breath to her. I could see the look of annoyance pass across her face, and I thought... great, a lover's quarrel to end my train ride, that's really sweet.
After a while, and because I like observing people, I realized that her body language was describing her running away. She was nailed down to the spot she was seated in, but her body was telling another story. I decided to pay a little bit more attention.
The man kept talking to her, low, quietly, and then I saw her reaction, and heard her say "Just go away, I don't know you."
Suddenly, I know why her body language looks like she is trying to run away. Trying to flee. Flight response.
I could see there was a little bit of panic set in around her eyes. I could see that the man's body language was very forward, very aggressive, even seated.
I looked around the train, and ahead of me on my side of the train were 3 men and a woman, the three men all looked fairly good sized. On the other side of the train car were a few couples and a solo man, plus the 'couple' that I was watching.
Nobody.. and I mean nobody... was paying attention to the drama that was playing out in the back of the train car, except for me.
How many stories have you read in the newspaper of someone who was accosted in broad daylight (this was night, and quite late.) People all around, and yet.... something happens to someone and there is a chorus of 'why didn't she speak out?' 'All she had to do was call out!'
My quandary was that I was rapidly approaching my stop (Addison.) The girl was sitting near the doors, so I would get a good close look when I was getting ready to exit. I decided if something still seemed out of place, I would come up with something.
I got up for my stop a little early, and stood by the doors for them to open. I looked at the girl, and I could see 'help me' in the panic in the whites of her eyes. So I said
So I let my stop go by. We chatted for a little longer, and I could see the guy was getting really frustrated at getting blocked. I decided to go in for checkmate:
She was so thankful as we pulled away. She was practically sobbing. I only had a few blocks to go in the cab, but I made sure she had cab fare, gave her my home number (this was before the prevalence of smart phones, etc... etc...) and told her to call me when she got to her destination.
So you know what my course of action is.... and that is.... action.
Returning to our topic;
A man on a flight changed seats to sit next to a woman he did not know, and then he sexually molested her. I don't know the exact nature of what he was doing to her, but it involved unwanted physical contact.
The cockpit crew (Captain and First Officer, both of whom I happen to know, surprisingly) did not know anything of this, and as I mentioned above, the FA thought that they were together, or at least the man had said they were together.
As the woman was getting off the airplane, she told the FA what had really been going on. The FA made sure the Captain knew, and the Captain, being a proper male, immediately jumped out of his seat, asked who the man was that was involved, and then took off after him. The police were called, and statements were taken at the gate.
The Captain actually managed to get the man trapped in a revolving door at the terminal exit, but neither TSA nor the Chicago Police saw him, nor noticed that there was something wrong. He had left his cell phone in the flight deck when he bolted from the cockpit, so he could not call anyone to tell them he had the guy there, and it is not like he could just hold the guy hostage in a revolving door forever. So he came back to the gate, described the man, and returned back to baggage claim to help identify him, but the man had fled.
They had the seat number, and can obviously find out who the man is, but the woman said she would decline to press charges; so the Cops and the airline have washed their hands of the deal.
I can only imagine what the situation was like for this woman. Here she is, minding her own business, and a man traps her in her seat and starts touching her somehow and someway. A small part of me can imagine (because I have seen it, and have gone to the aid of someone in that position) what she was going through. Isolation... Exposure... a feeling of being trapped and alone.
Here is what my problem is with this.
She refuses to press charges. Refuses. I am sorry, but what you went through was not the end of the world. Yes, you don't want to see that man again. So, best to just be quiet, right?
Can anyone else see the problem with this?
The man has no 'feedback loop' discouraging him from behaving the way he did. He got exactly the reaction that he wanted; a panicked woman.
He didn't get a 'punch to the kisser,' he didn't get someone who would simply stand up, start laughing, point at him, call out, yell, anything.
Just a compliant little bunny rabbit. Perfect for the wolves... let us make their lives easier.
This woman was on a crowded airplane, and even though she may have felt alone, she sure as hell was not alone! All she had to do was speak up.
Girls, get this through your heads. We are not mind readers!
If you are in trouble, maybe nobody will notice it. What are you going to do, just go to slaughter for the wolves? I guess there is a population that will do just that. I have even seen it in action.
And this is why these dirtbags are able to continue what they are doing, because they are not stopped when it happens. You know what would be a good solution to this? A punch right in the face. A kick to the balls. Laughter (since most male on female sexual assaults are about 'power,' and not about sex, laughter is a great weapon... no man anywhere wants his 'sexual prowess' laughed at.)
I know plenty of women who would do exactly the same is this woman did... not press charges, because you don't want to relive the experience, or whatever excuse you want to give. Too damn bad. Relive it. Pay that price, because when you do not, some other woman is going to be in your shoes in the not too distant future, all because you wouldn't speak up and nail the bastard to the door. They had to police, they had a witness, all they need is a name... and... nothing.
Girls... ladies... women... until you are ready to speak up, then this kind of thing will continue. I happen to know that the Captain of this flight would have gladly gone back and punched the guy in the face (A case for this could be made, but not once you are on the ground!) He certainly would have hog tied the man and left him trussed up for the police at the gate.
So why not speak up? Shy? afraid? Nervous? Too Goddamn bad! This is a major fault with women--- by not speaking up, you are selling the next woman, the next victim, down the river. You are giving her up to the wolves, as sure as you were trapped yourself.
Fight, Flight, or Freeze.
Women need to fight.
If a piece of crap like that sits down next to you, and exposes himself (which has happened to at least 2 women that I know) stand up and point... laugh... yell out... call attention to it. Hit the man... kick the man (trust me, the last thing this piece of excrement is expecting is a battle) ... do whatever you want; he has lost his rights.
Whatever you do not do, don't sit there meekly, hoping that it will all go away, that he will just stop, or that please please someone notice me I am in a bad place. Even in a crowd, people will simply not notice.
Women, you need to speak up. You need to act. You need to decide not to be a victim. 90% of men will gladly come to your aid, but, if we don't know you are in trouble, then we don't even know to help. There had been a couple other women on the train when that guy in my own story first got on, but who did he pick out of the crowd? The meek one... the wolves circle the rabbit...
The only way you can become a victim like this is if you let yourself. Fight... kick.. scratch... punch... make a scene; if not for yourself, then for the next girl, for the wife, for the daughter. Until someone stands up and fights back, he will continue... and they will continue... doing what they are doing.
More on this at a later date....
Ok, this is going to be much more of a rant than usual, and I expect to offend some people. There will be tough love involved, and if you are offended, well... Too bad. Harden The Fuck Up and Hike The Fuck Out (there will also be swearing for emphasis.)
Here we go.
So, on an unnamed airline today (not necessarily the airline I fly for; I've been in this industry a while, ya know) one of the female passengers was sexually molested by the male passenger who was sitting next to her.
Yes, that's right. Right out there in the open. When the FA came by, the molester said "we're together;" the FA was pretty new, and didn't know how to handle the situation. Maybe she thought they had arrived separately for something clandestine, who knows, but for whatever reason, she did not pick up on that as a lie.
We'll take a break here so I can give you a little story about myself.
Quite a few years ago, I was on the Blue Line (Chicago ELevated train line) coming home from the western suburbs. Where I lived at the time, this was a jaunt.. probably a good hour from the Western end of the Blue Line to my stop, which would be Addison or Irving Park, based on which direction I came from... I lived midway between the two, so I just got off at whichever came first.
So, there I am on the train.
We'd left Clark/Lake, and were working our way northwest, and there were maybe a dozen people on the train. A girl that had been further forward in the car sat across from me, but diagonally across the doors. Then a man sat down in the row behind her, and starting talking under his breath to her. I could see the look of annoyance pass across her face, and I thought... great, a lover's quarrel to end my train ride, that's really sweet.
After a while, and because I like observing people, I realized that her body language was describing her running away. She was nailed down to the spot she was seated in, but her body was telling another story. I decided to pay a little bit more attention.
The man kept talking to her, low, quietly, and then I saw her reaction, and heard her say "Just go away, I don't know you."
Suddenly, I know why her body language looks like she is trying to run away. Trying to flee. Flight response.
I could see there was a little bit of panic set in around her eyes. I could see that the man's body language was very forward, very aggressive, even seated.
I looked around the train, and ahead of me on my side of the train were 3 men and a woman, the three men all looked fairly good sized. On the other side of the train car were a few couples and a solo man, plus the 'couple' that I was watching.
Nobody.. and I mean nobody... was paying attention to the drama that was playing out in the back of the train car, except for me.
How many stories have you read in the newspaper of someone who was accosted in broad daylight (this was night, and quite late.) People all around, and yet.... something happens to someone and there is a chorus of 'why didn't she speak out?' 'All she had to do was call out!'
My quandary was that I was rapidly approaching my stop (Addison.) The girl was sitting near the doors, so I would get a good close look when I was getting ready to exit. I decided if something still seemed out of place, I would come up with something.
I got up for my stop a little early, and stood by the doors for them to open. I looked at the girl, and I could see 'help me' in the panic in the whites of her eyes. So I said
"Hey! Holy Smokes! Is that really you? Remember? Scott, from first year Algebra at school! Where on earth have you been and what have you been up to?"I could see the relief flood through her that someone... anyone had noticed her plight. She smiled up at me and said "Oh, yes, hi! So good to see you again!"
So I let my stop go by. We chatted for a little longer, and I could see the guy was getting really frustrated at getting blocked. I decided to go in for checkmate:
"Hey, why don't you jump off with me if you don't have anything going on; I know a great place we can grab a cup of joe and keep catching up."She got off the train with me, clutching my arm. The man got off at the same time we did, and when I looked at him he gave me a big toothy grin. When we got down Irving Park Road, the man turned for a moment and I basically tossed the girl into a cab that pulled up as if I had summoned it. I jumped in behind her and told the cabbie to go go go. As we pulled away, I saw the man leap out into the street to see where we had gone, but he never saw us in the cab.
She was so thankful as we pulled away. She was practically sobbing. I only had a few blocks to go in the cab, but I made sure she had cab fare, gave her my home number (this was before the prevalence of smart phones, etc... etc...) and told her to call me when she got to her destination.
So you know what my course of action is.... and that is.... action.
Returning to our topic;
A man on a flight changed seats to sit next to a woman he did not know, and then he sexually molested her. I don't know the exact nature of what he was doing to her, but it involved unwanted physical contact.
The cockpit crew (Captain and First Officer, both of whom I happen to know, surprisingly) did not know anything of this, and as I mentioned above, the FA thought that they were together, or at least the man had said they were together.
As the woman was getting off the airplane, she told the FA what had really been going on. The FA made sure the Captain knew, and the Captain, being a proper male, immediately jumped out of his seat, asked who the man was that was involved, and then took off after him. The police were called, and statements were taken at the gate.
The Captain actually managed to get the man trapped in a revolving door at the terminal exit, but neither TSA nor the Chicago Police saw him, nor noticed that there was something wrong. He had left his cell phone in the flight deck when he bolted from the cockpit, so he could not call anyone to tell them he had the guy there, and it is not like he could just hold the guy hostage in a revolving door forever. So he came back to the gate, described the man, and returned back to baggage claim to help identify him, but the man had fled.
They had the seat number, and can obviously find out who the man is, but the woman said she would decline to press charges; so the Cops and the airline have washed their hands of the deal.
I can only imagine what the situation was like for this woman. Here she is, minding her own business, and a man traps her in her seat and starts touching her somehow and someway. A small part of me can imagine (because I have seen it, and have gone to the aid of someone in that position) what she was going through. Isolation... Exposure... a feeling of being trapped and alone.
Here is what my problem is with this.
She refuses to press charges. Refuses. I am sorry, but what you went through was not the end of the world. Yes, you don't want to see that man again. So, best to just be quiet, right?
Can anyone else see the problem with this?
The man has no 'feedback loop' discouraging him from behaving the way he did. He got exactly the reaction that he wanted; a panicked woman.
He didn't get a 'punch to the kisser,' he didn't get someone who would simply stand up, start laughing, point at him, call out, yell, anything.
Just a compliant little bunny rabbit. Perfect for the wolves... let us make their lives easier.
This woman was on a crowded airplane, and even though she may have felt alone, she sure as hell was not alone! All she had to do was speak up.
Girls, get this through your heads. We are not mind readers!
If you are in trouble, maybe nobody will notice it. What are you going to do, just go to slaughter for the wolves? I guess there is a population that will do just that. I have even seen it in action.
And this is why these dirtbags are able to continue what they are doing, because they are not stopped when it happens. You know what would be a good solution to this? A punch right in the face. A kick to the balls. Laughter (since most male on female sexual assaults are about 'power,' and not about sex, laughter is a great weapon... no man anywhere wants his 'sexual prowess' laughed at.)
I know plenty of women who would do exactly the same is this woman did... not press charges, because you don't want to relive the experience, or whatever excuse you want to give. Too damn bad. Relive it. Pay that price, because when you do not, some other woman is going to be in your shoes in the not too distant future, all because you wouldn't speak up and nail the bastard to the door. They had to police, they had a witness, all they need is a name... and... nothing.
Girls... ladies... women... until you are ready to speak up, then this kind of thing will continue. I happen to know that the Captain of this flight would have gladly gone back and punched the guy in the face (A case for this could be made, but not once you are on the ground!) He certainly would have hog tied the man and left him trussed up for the police at the gate.
So why not speak up? Shy? afraid? Nervous? Too Goddamn bad! This is a major fault with women--- by not speaking up, you are selling the next woman, the next victim, down the river. You are giving her up to the wolves, as sure as you were trapped yourself.
Fight, Flight, or Freeze.
Women need to fight.
If a piece of crap like that sits down next to you, and exposes himself (which has happened to at least 2 women that I know) stand up and point... laugh... yell out... call attention to it. Hit the man... kick the man (trust me, the last thing this piece of excrement is expecting is a battle) ... do whatever you want; he has lost his rights.
Whatever you do not do, don't sit there meekly, hoping that it will all go away, that he will just stop, or that please please someone notice me I am in a bad place. Even in a crowd, people will simply not notice.
Women, you need to speak up. You need to act. You need to decide not to be a victim. 90% of men will gladly come to your aid, but, if we don't know you are in trouble, then we don't even know to help. There had been a couple other women on the train when that guy in my own story first got on, but who did he pick out of the crowd? The meek one... the wolves circle the rabbit...
The only way you can become a victim like this is if you let yourself. Fight... kick.. scratch... punch... make a scene; if not for yourself, then for the next girl, for the wife, for the daughter. Until someone stands up and fights back, he will continue... and they will continue... doing what they are doing.
More on this at a later date....
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Chicago Triathlon breakdown (no kidding)
So I have had a little bit of time to reflect on my 3rd Chicago Triathlon (actually, my 3rd, 4th, and 5th, if you count 2013 individually.)
I know I was a little bit undertrained. I had slacked off with the Race to Mackinac in the sailing world, and then after I had to pack a bunch of flying in, trying to baby my knee, and then works.
O.k., enough excuses.
The Sprint
The Sprint Tri went off right about as planned. The ChiTri Sprint consists of a 750M swim, and 20K bike, and a 5K run.
The time for the swim includes the 400M run from the end of swim to transition (that run is longer than the swim in the SuperSprint, btw.)
So, my not so glorious times----
Swim - 23:50
Bike - 52:45
Run - 34:54
Swim Note:
I would have liked to have the swim come in around 21 or so, but with the run added to the distance, I am not surprised by the result there. I had a decent swim that was only marred by getting kicked in the face FOUR times; one gave me a good load of water up da nose, so that kind of annoyed me. I was very high adrenaline for the swim, and I could not get my heart rate down. It usually takes me a good 300+ yards to get my heart down when I swim laps. I am working on this, but it really saps your energy in open water.
Bike Note:
52:45 works out to 15.5mph. My goal was 49:00, which would have been about 16.6 mph, but I was only able to pace a 15.8 on the Super Sprint, so I should not have been surprise to be a little bit slower. Still, pretty good. Not bad for a kinda new guy. Plus, the heat was starting to pick up.
Run Note:
34:54 for a 5K. Yikes. I was hoping for about 31:00. My best time in a 5K is around 28:20, and I have run that many many times on the treadmill and on my overnights. I have not done a lot of brick type workouts towards the end of my training, obviously, I need to run after biking quite a bit more. But... 35 minutes... sigh. I suck so bad at running. That 34:54 was almost EXACTLY double my 17:05 from the 2.5K in the SuperSprint the day before. Foreshadowing!!
The Olympic.
Oh, jeez, the humanity!!
The Chi Tri Olympic length is a 1.5K swim, and 40K bike, and a 10K run.
I finished the Sprint at 08:02AM (it was an 0600 start,) and I had the Olympic coming right at me with an 0900 start. I had to get from the finish line to transition, reset my transition area, then hustle on down to the starting line 3/4 mile away to make the 0900 start. I made it with about a minute-thirty to spare. I had no time to rest (which is part of why you do the Triple Challenge... it is a challenge, after all!) and only time to snarf down a chocolate chip bagel and a banana... plus throw a bottle of gatorade onto my bike, and drink 1/2 of another one.
My times (which put my DEAD LAST in my age group... ugh.)
Swim - 52:06
Bike - 1:43:54
Run - 1:37:16
I am not happy with any of that, although I have to admit, turning around after a Sprint tri did kind of wear me down.
The Swim:
I was a little tired after doing the Sprint and not getting to even sit down between races. I barely had time to get my wetsuit back on, let alone relax for more time, so I was a bit put off by the swim start (although getting in the water felt GREAT.) Ironically, the last 500M or so of the swim was by far my best swimming of the entire triathlon. I was passing swimmers left and right. Too little too late, though.) A good chunk of my swim time was a 'trudge to transition.' I walked, not jogged or ran, the distance to transition. My time on this last year was 38:33. Doing that swim after the 20K bike and 5K run really (massive understatement) killed me here. I would have been better off having another mile of swimming than any kind of biking or running. Ah well, That is why it is a challenge!
The Bike:
Last year's time was 1:35:??. I felt really strong, and I had great strength in the first loop around; as I started the second loop north, I realized that I had not refilled my water bottle when I put the gatorade bottle on my bike between races (being rushed makes you forget shit,) and the temps were pushing 90 by now. I needed lots of water, and I did not have it. I had also not dropped any energy gels or grabbed another banana for the ride. I was going to rapidly run out of energy and hydration somewhere soon. I certainly did. I had a great split time coming out the first half of the bike (considering it was my 2nd Tri of the day,) but... I just fell apart. By the time I was southbound on the final 1/4 of the bike, I could feel the dehydration sapping away at my strength. I was trying to marshal my forces for conservation, but in an endurance sport, you really need access to nourishment (the 4th 'leg' of any triathlon is nutrition,) and I had painted myself into a corner by being rushed resetting transition.
I also had a shoulder problem that was getting annoyed. I had purchased a 'bike trainer' so that I could get used to being on the aero-bars, but I had not used it nearly enough. My shoulders were aching, and my left shoulder had a knot in it the size of a baseball. Made it difficult to stay symmetrical.
Now the race just becomes about 'survival.' Keep going for the finish. Forget times, forget Personal Records, Personal Bests, etc... just drive. This is where having done prior triathlons kicks into play. No giving up, even if I have to crawl over the finish in a dehydrated pulpy mess. No matter how you slice it, I was miles ahead of everyone who had never done a Tri, and here I was, doing three in a weekend (a decent sized case could be made at this point for me being an idiot, but.... who is keeping score?)
The Run:
A funny thing comes into play when you know you will not win, in fact your age group partners have already been finishing for a while, you are totally knackered, and... well... you are dehydrated and annoyed at yourself. That funny thing is reality. Bam.
I basically slept through transition to the run. I lay down, stretched out my back, tried to get the knot out of my shoulder by laying down on some equipment. Not a whole lot of luck, so it was time to press on.
I stopped at the transition tent exit water stand, and basically stood there refilling myself like a camel. Drink.. drink... drink. I had a number of cups of water, and balanced those with about the same of Gatorade. I didn't want to over-drink and get cramps, so I tried to play it safe. There are drink stops about every mile on the run, so I knew I would be able to top off every stop.
By now the heat was getting up to about 94F or so. It was hot. Normally, I like running in the heat, but I was borderline dehydrated, and I had not run enough (even though I had done more distances than the individual races, I had not run this much TOTAL in a 24 hour period.) to really put in a good show.
So mile #1 I basically walked/jogged/hopped. I was trying to get my running feet under me, but I as also trying to stay sane and re-hydrate (an abnormally frustrating process. The more I have read about it, the more I have found it is a losing proposition. Once the dehydration monster starts in on you and gets to a certain point, you are fighting a losing battle... it is nearly impossible to get enough water in without drowning yourself.)
I made myself a deal.. instead of my normal system of running 7 mins or so and walking 2, I was going to reverse it, and run 2 and walk 7. As you can tell by my time, I did a lot more walking than that, even.
Around mile #3, I took a break in a port-o-john, and I heard them pull a racer off the course for dehydration. The paramedic was making sure he was ok, and then the racer started to vomit from massive dehydration. I have no idea how anyone would have been pushing so hard at this point int he race... all that was left on the course were the cruisers and the pros. They got the guy into an ambulance, but it was startling to hear someone crash so hard 'medically.' Numerous people got pulled off of the course, or dropped out when they realized they had lost it. This was where I decided to drop nearly all pretense of being a 'runner,' and just enjoy the walk, jog a bit when I could, nurse my dehydration properly (I doubled my water and gatorade intake after hearing that guy) and enjoy the damn race! I was supposed to be having fun, damnit! So I walked a little fast, broke into a jog now and then, and stopped at every water table and gatorade table and took a big swig or five.
At mile #5, the first pro came blasting past me. Holy cats that was amazing to watch! They started a full TWO HOURS after I started. Yes, I know, they are professionals, and I am a hack... but WOW, they were amazing to see up close, and on the same course!! (and passing the daylights out of my ass!!!!)
The last 100 yards of the run is through a finisher's chute, so I started jogging at a fair clip for the 50 yards prior, and then broke into a good run through the chute. I high-fived a bunch of people along the sides, and then raised my arms in victory at the end as I went through the finish, 7 hours and 31 minutes after I had started the Sprint that morning.
Not nearly my best times, not even somewhere near average. But I did have a good time on the race. A few things that I learned though---
There is a GOOD reason why only about 180 people out of 7500 do the Triple Challenge. It is idiotic.
I swam well on the longer distances, I just need to not get kicked in the face, and I need to do the swim BEFORE I do the run and bike, not after a good set of run and bike.
I really want to try a 1/2 IM distance. We'll see what the future holds.
Dehydration sucks, and it takes days to recover. Better planning!!
My knee did not hurt in the least on the longest runs I have done in a single day. I like that!
More to come!
Cheers!
Scott
(yes, I know I took a screenshot of a proof.)
I know I was a little bit undertrained. I had slacked off with the Race to Mackinac in the sailing world, and then after I had to pack a bunch of flying in, trying to baby my knee, and then works.
O.k., enough excuses.
The Sprint
The Sprint Tri went off right about as planned. The ChiTri Sprint consists of a 750M swim, and 20K bike, and a 5K run.
The time for the swim includes the 400M run from the end of swim to transition (that run is longer than the swim in the SuperSprint, btw.)
So, my not so glorious times----
Swim - 23:50
Bike - 52:45
Run - 34:54
Swim Note:
I would have liked to have the swim come in around 21 or so, but with the run added to the distance, I am not surprised by the result there. I had a decent swim that was only marred by getting kicked in the face FOUR times; one gave me a good load of water up da nose, so that kind of annoyed me. I was very high adrenaline for the swim, and I could not get my heart rate down. It usually takes me a good 300+ yards to get my heart down when I swim laps. I am working on this, but it really saps your energy in open water.
Bike Note:
52:45 works out to 15.5mph. My goal was 49:00, which would have been about 16.6 mph, but I was only able to pace a 15.8 on the Super Sprint, so I should not have been surprise to be a little bit slower. Still, pretty good. Not bad for a kinda new guy. Plus, the heat was starting to pick up.
Run Note:
34:54 for a 5K. Yikes. I was hoping for about 31:00. My best time in a 5K is around 28:20, and I have run that many many times on the treadmill and on my overnights. I have not done a lot of brick type workouts towards the end of my training, obviously, I need to run after biking quite a bit more. But... 35 minutes... sigh. I suck so bad at running. That 34:54 was almost EXACTLY double my 17:05 from the 2.5K in the SuperSprint the day before. Foreshadowing!!
The Olympic.
Oh, jeez, the humanity!!
The Chi Tri Olympic length is a 1.5K swim, and 40K bike, and a 10K run.
I finished the Sprint at 08:02AM (it was an 0600 start,) and I had the Olympic coming right at me with an 0900 start. I had to get from the finish line to transition, reset my transition area, then hustle on down to the starting line 3/4 mile away to make the 0900 start. I made it with about a minute-thirty to spare. I had no time to rest (which is part of why you do the Triple Challenge... it is a challenge, after all!) and only time to snarf down a chocolate chip bagel and a banana... plus throw a bottle of gatorade onto my bike, and drink 1/2 of another one.
My times (which put my DEAD LAST in my age group... ugh.)
Swim - 52:06
Bike - 1:43:54
Run - 1:37:16
I am not happy with any of that, although I have to admit, turning around after a Sprint tri did kind of wear me down.
The Swim:
I was a little tired after doing the Sprint and not getting to even sit down between races. I barely had time to get my wetsuit back on, let alone relax for more time, so I was a bit put off by the swim start (although getting in the water felt GREAT.) Ironically, the last 500M or so of the swim was by far my best swimming of the entire triathlon. I was passing swimmers left and right. Too little too late, though.) A good chunk of my swim time was a 'trudge to transition.' I walked, not jogged or ran, the distance to transition. My time on this last year was 38:33. Doing that swim after the 20K bike and 5K run really (massive understatement) killed me here. I would have been better off having another mile of swimming than any kind of biking or running. Ah well, That is why it is a challenge!
The Bike:
Last year's time was 1:35:??. I felt really strong, and I had great strength in the first loop around; as I started the second loop north, I realized that I had not refilled my water bottle when I put the gatorade bottle on my bike between races (being rushed makes you forget shit,) and the temps were pushing 90 by now. I needed lots of water, and I did not have it. I had also not dropped any energy gels or grabbed another banana for the ride. I was going to rapidly run out of energy and hydration somewhere soon. I certainly did. I had a great split time coming out the first half of the bike (considering it was my 2nd Tri of the day,) but... I just fell apart. By the time I was southbound on the final 1/4 of the bike, I could feel the dehydration sapping away at my strength. I was trying to marshal my forces for conservation, but in an endurance sport, you really need access to nourishment (the 4th 'leg' of any triathlon is nutrition,) and I had painted myself into a corner by being rushed resetting transition.
I also had a shoulder problem that was getting annoyed. I had purchased a 'bike trainer' so that I could get used to being on the aero-bars, but I had not used it nearly enough. My shoulders were aching, and my left shoulder had a knot in it the size of a baseball. Made it difficult to stay symmetrical.
Now the race just becomes about 'survival.' Keep going for the finish. Forget times, forget Personal Records, Personal Bests, etc... just drive. This is where having done prior triathlons kicks into play. No giving up, even if I have to crawl over the finish in a dehydrated pulpy mess. No matter how you slice it, I was miles ahead of everyone who had never done a Tri, and here I was, doing three in a weekend (a decent sized case could be made at this point for me being an idiot, but.... who is keeping score?)
The Run:
A funny thing comes into play when you know you will not win, in fact your age group partners have already been finishing for a while, you are totally knackered, and... well... you are dehydrated and annoyed at yourself. That funny thing is reality. Bam.
I basically slept through transition to the run. I lay down, stretched out my back, tried to get the knot out of my shoulder by laying down on some equipment. Not a whole lot of luck, so it was time to press on.
I stopped at the transition tent exit water stand, and basically stood there refilling myself like a camel. Drink.. drink... drink. I had a number of cups of water, and balanced those with about the same of Gatorade. I didn't want to over-drink and get cramps, so I tried to play it safe. There are drink stops about every mile on the run, so I knew I would be able to top off every stop.
By now the heat was getting up to about 94F or so. It was hot. Normally, I like running in the heat, but I was borderline dehydrated, and I had not run enough (even though I had done more distances than the individual races, I had not run this much TOTAL in a 24 hour period.) to really put in a good show.
So mile #1 I basically walked/jogged/hopped. I was trying to get my running feet under me, but I as also trying to stay sane and re-hydrate (an abnormally frustrating process. The more I have read about it, the more I have found it is a losing proposition. Once the dehydration monster starts in on you and gets to a certain point, you are fighting a losing battle... it is nearly impossible to get enough water in without drowning yourself.)
I made myself a deal.. instead of my normal system of running 7 mins or so and walking 2, I was going to reverse it, and run 2 and walk 7. As you can tell by my time, I did a lot more walking than that, even.
Around mile #3, I took a break in a port-o-john, and I heard them pull a racer off the course for dehydration. The paramedic was making sure he was ok, and then the racer started to vomit from massive dehydration. I have no idea how anyone would have been pushing so hard at this point int he race... all that was left on the course were the cruisers and the pros. They got the guy into an ambulance, but it was startling to hear someone crash so hard 'medically.' Numerous people got pulled off of the course, or dropped out when they realized they had lost it. This was where I decided to drop nearly all pretense of being a 'runner,' and just enjoy the walk, jog a bit when I could, nurse my dehydration properly (I doubled my water and gatorade intake after hearing that guy) and enjoy the damn race! I was supposed to be having fun, damnit! So I walked a little fast, broke into a jog now and then, and stopped at every water table and gatorade table and took a big swig or five.
At mile #5, the first pro came blasting past me. Holy cats that was amazing to watch! They started a full TWO HOURS after I started. Yes, I know, they are professionals, and I am a hack... but WOW, they were amazing to see up close, and on the same course!! (and passing the daylights out of my ass!!!!)
The last 100 yards of the run is through a finisher's chute, so I started jogging at a fair clip for the 50 yards prior, and then broke into a good run through the chute. I high-fived a bunch of people along the sides, and then raised my arms in victory at the end as I went through the finish, 7 hours and 31 minutes after I had started the Sprint that morning.
Not nearly my best times, not even somewhere near average. But I did have a good time on the race. A few things that I learned though---
 |
| Yeah, baby, that's honest sweat. |
I swam well on the longer distances, I just need to not get kicked in the face, and I need to do the swim BEFORE I do the run and bike, not after a good set of run and bike.
I really want to try a 1/2 IM distance. We'll see what the future holds.
Dehydration sucks, and it takes days to recover. Better planning!!
My knee did not hurt in the least on the longest runs I have done in a single day. I like that!
More to come!
Cheers!
Scott
(yes, I know I took a screenshot of a proof.)
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Two posts in under a month! Getting back into it!
So, finished the 1st of 3 triathlons this morning. Next 2 are tomorrow.
Today was the SuperSprint Tri of the Chi Tri; 350meter swim, 10k bike, 2.5k run. It was an open water beach start, so you run from the holding area into the water, then swim around some buoys, then come back, and run back up the beach to the bikes. From there you walk/run your bike out of the transition area, mount up, ride, then come back and do the run.
I completed the whole deal in 0:55:36, or 55 minutes and 36 seconds. Pretty good! My times were:
Swim 15:04
Bike 23:27
Run 17:05
That was good enough for 287 out of 590. Just outside the top half. Better than I have finished before. I was ranked
Swim 291/590
Bike 238/590
Run 377/590
You can easily see where my weak spot is!!... running!! lol....
I am doing the Triple Challenge, where I do that race today, and tomorrow I do two races. A Sprint Tri and an Olympic Tri.
So tomorrow at 0600, I start off on the Sprint Tri. That is a 750meter swim, a 22k bike, and a 5k run. Then, I shake it all off, turn everything around, and at 0900 I am back in the water to do an Olympic Distance Triathlon; 1500meter swim, 40K bike, and 10K run.
Total distances for all races is-- 2.6K (1.6 miles) swim, 72K (44.7 miles) bike, and 17.5K (10.9 miles) running.
I should have the Sprint done in about 2 hours, and we will see if I have any steam left for the LONG one... lol... figures...
If you want to track me, there is a racer tracker app for iPhone and Android, under TimeLifeTri; you can enter my bib # or my name to see how I do, and follow my transitions in real time. My bib for the Sprint is #228, my bib for the Olympic is #6229.
Cheer me on from near, or cheer me on from afar....
Scott
Today was the SuperSprint Tri of the Chi Tri; 350meter swim, 10k bike, 2.5k run. It was an open water beach start, so you run from the holding area into the water, then swim around some buoys, then come back, and run back up the beach to the bikes. From there you walk/run your bike out of the transition area, mount up, ride, then come back and do the run.
I completed the whole deal in 0:55:36, or 55 minutes and 36 seconds. Pretty good! My times were:
Swim 15:04
Bike 23:27
Run 17:05
That was good enough for 287 out of 590. Just outside the top half. Better than I have finished before. I was ranked
Swim 291/590
Bike 238/590
Run 377/590
You can easily see where my weak spot is!!... running!! lol....
I am doing the Triple Challenge, where I do that race today, and tomorrow I do two races. A Sprint Tri and an Olympic Tri.
So tomorrow at 0600, I start off on the Sprint Tri. That is a 750meter swim, a 22k bike, and a 5k run. Then, I shake it all off, turn everything around, and at 0900 I am back in the water to do an Olympic Distance Triathlon; 1500meter swim, 40K bike, and 10K run.
Total distances for all races is-- 2.6K (1.6 miles) swim, 72K (44.7 miles) bike, and 17.5K (10.9 miles) running.
I should have the Sprint done in about 2 hours, and we will see if I have any steam left for the LONG one... lol... figures...
If you want to track me, there is a racer tracker app for iPhone and Android, under TimeLifeTri; you can enter my bib # or my name to see how I do, and follow my transitions in real time. My bib for the Sprint is #228, my bib for the Olympic is #6229.
Cheer me on from near, or cheer me on from afar....
Scott
Sunday, August 4, 2013
taking time....
Ugh, almost 3 months since my last post.
So I had these grand plans that I wanted to do a 1/2 Ironman this season; I will be lucky to get through the ChiTri completely and not make an ass out of myself.
I have mostly been keeping up with my training, but I really tweaked something in my knee on the Race to Mackinac.... actually, sadly, whilst motoring out for the race. There was something fouled on the bow, I went forward, bent down, and felt 'ping!' Awesome. Just awesome. I knew it would not hurt during normal use, and it didn't.. I really flexed it a lot during the early part of the race.
But I knew it would be quite angry with me if I ran on it for any length of time, I could just feel it.
And then it took forever (72 hours, actually,) to get up to the island. This was really slow for us, but we were in good company. Still, I had plans on running around the island (8 miles) Tuesday morning, and there I was, still sailing along at 10am on Tuesday. Sigh.
All excuses, though.
So when I finally did get a chance to run, my knees complained.
7 miles is what I got. For reference, the 1/2 IM is a 1.2 mile swim, a 56 mile bike, and then run a half marathon (12+ miles.) a little after 6 miles, my right knee told me to lighten up.
So, scratch the 1/2 for 2013.
Plans change, that is just the way that it is. Maybe I have a half in my future for 2014. May a full in 2014, since I have no plans on holding back on my training over the autumn this year. I want to keep that feeling, and the strength that goes with regular exercise (sometimes intense exercise.)
Plus, I need to post more... sheesh!
Cheers!
Scott
So I had these grand plans that I wanted to do a 1/2 Ironman this season; I will be lucky to get through the ChiTri completely and not make an ass out of myself.
I have mostly been keeping up with my training, but I really tweaked something in my knee on the Race to Mackinac.... actually, sadly, whilst motoring out for the race. There was something fouled on the bow, I went forward, bent down, and felt 'ping!' Awesome. Just awesome. I knew it would not hurt during normal use, and it didn't.. I really flexed it a lot during the early part of the race.
But I knew it would be quite angry with me if I ran on it for any length of time, I could just feel it.
And then it took forever (72 hours, actually,) to get up to the island. This was really slow for us, but we were in good company. Still, I had plans on running around the island (8 miles) Tuesday morning, and there I was, still sailing along at 10am on Tuesday. Sigh.
All excuses, though.
So when I finally did get a chance to run, my knees complained.
7 miles is what I got. For reference, the 1/2 IM is a 1.2 mile swim, a 56 mile bike, and then run a half marathon (12+ miles.) a little after 6 miles, my right knee told me to lighten up.
So, scratch the 1/2 for 2013.
Plans change, that is just the way that it is. Maybe I have a half in my future for 2014. May a full in 2014, since I have no plans on holding back on my training over the autumn this year. I want to keep that feeling, and the strength that goes with regular exercise (sometimes intense exercise.)
Plus, I need to post more... sheesh!
Cheers!
Scott
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Well, that was not expected
What to do when what you planned is not what happenes. What do you do?
So I got to Jenison, Michigan, just fine. Went down to check out the little lake we would be swimming in for a sprint triathlon. Good Lordy, that water was cold. 600 yard swim, 18 mile bike, then run a 5k. Simple. I've been doing these distances for a while now, and while I had slacked off on my short vacation, I had built up a pretty good set of distances and times.
The swim? 12 minutes, tops. Especially with a wetsuit.
The bike? Maybe an hour. I can usually hold 18mph pretty steady, but the first 7 miles were pretty up-hilly, and I am a flat lander, so... that should be interesting.
The run? Yeah... I am still not a fast runner, but I should be able to keep my 10min/mile, and kick it up a hair for 29 minutes, maybe a few seconds more.
Into the water we went!
I started in the 3rd wave. They were 2 minute intervals, and everyone was talking how they would probably wear their wetsuits for the bike to help warm up after the swim, etc...etc.. etc...
Water temp at race time was 62F ashore, so probably 58 or so towards the middle/turning marks.
Got off to a good clean start, nothing at all like the angry washing machine of the deep water starts for the Chi Tri. We were able to stand in 4ft of water for the start, so we were not fully immersed. I had done a little freestyle out to the start mark, so I knew it would be cold, but I felt ok.
First mark was about 180-200 yards out, and to the right (facing the lake from transition.) I got near the mark, took a quick peek over my shoulder. I was in the top 3rd of my start, swimming strong, felt strong, all is well in the world. We had caught the stragglers of the prior start, and were pulling in towards the middle of that group.
As I turned back and went head down, I got some water. Just a little bit. Swimmers know this feeling... you cough a bit... take a deep breath, and then it is back to business. Happens all the time.
Only this time, I choked a little. Throat closed up. Breathing stopped.
For those of you who do not know me, I took my first swimming lesson when I was 2 and 1/2. I've been swimming for 43 years. I am more comfortable in the water than out, and I am more comfortable UNDER the water than some people are in a bathtub!
And then... I had... A Moment.
A small... oh so small... but very real. Panic Attack.
Suddenly, I had vertigo. I was free falling through space. I could feel the cold water around me, but everything stopped. My chest constricted, the wetsuit choked my neck, the whole freight train of hell parked itself on me.
I had an immediate flash mentally, and rolled on to my back. I can float for days... someone brings me a cheeseburger now and then, and I'll drift to Hawaii, no sweat.
So there I am... first 3rd of a racecourse, floating on my back... 'Look.. a cloud. <breathe... breathe deeper> Look... another cloud <breathe again, dammit... get that heartrate under control... stop hyperventilating.. BREATHE.>.. nothing but blue sky....
I think I was on my back about 4 minutes; seemed more like 3 hours. I felt alone in the lake. I absolutely needed to get my shit back in order, and get out of the lake.
I had seen a number of swimmer turn back after the 1st mark, saying "F this... f-ing cold, screw this crap," etc...
It was about 250 yards to the next mark, then a turn towards home. I could do that. Hell, that is not even my warm up swim.
So I started to doggy paddle. Yup, hard core racing there, folks. Head clear out of the water, feet kicking breaststroke style... Just keep moving forward.
I rolled over for some more backstroke, and a helpful cloud let me glide pretty smooth and straight. I made some good distance, but I knew I really did not want my chest and face back in the water. I was just not ready for the cold, not at all. When would I warm up? July? No clue... just keep moving forward.
Around the mark. Headed for home. Nobody here in the lake but us chickens. More breaststroke... some freestyle (front crawl for you Brits,) but head-out-of-the-water-for-'sighting' freestyle. 1st swimming lesson freestyle.
50 yards to go, and I can feel the bottom under my feet. Start running... I reach a hand back, grab the zip line on my wetsuit, and I am 3/4 peeled by the time I hit transition. Time to bike, maybe it will help warm me up.
My time was pretty lame on the bike, too, but I know that was the after-effects of freaking out on the swim. It took a while to get that monster out of my head. To be honest, what I wanted to do was go into the porta-john and cry my eyes out from the most disconcerting, scary moment I have ever had in the water. I have never once been scared, let alone anything more, in the water. Never. Pitch black, no reference, no shore, jump over the side, cut some crap free from the boat in the middle of the night? Sign me up, coach, I'm all over that.
What the *** happened?
Cold. Cold, and not ready for it. Not even close to ready for it. And then a freaky choke moment, that took advantage of the cold in me. Cold does funny things, and this time it busted my chops good. I was still recovering 7 miles into the bike (which was mostly uphill, and upwind for that distance.)
I managed to hit a good downhill spurt, zipped up to my top speed (35.44 mph on my speedo,) and I was still pedaling, trying to accelerate. I was down hard on the aerobars, and it felt so good.
I pounded the daylights out of the rest of the bike course, but, let's face it, the damage was long done by that point. All that I was up for was finishing. Running is my weak point, and I turned in a 32 minute 5K, which is not horrible, but I did expect better.
And I finished last in my age group. 92 out of 99 for finishers (+11 that dropped out totally, so I beat THEM, too... bwahahaha... but none of them were in my age group.... poop.)
I was talking to the last person to finish. A girl, quite a bit overweight, had no wetsuit for the swim and first triathlon ever... but she finished. After we chatted for a bit, she said "You know, I came in last... but I finished ahead of every single person who is too chicken to give it a try. I am taking back control of my life, and this sport has not seen the last of me."
I gave her a really big hug.
The next thing I need to do is go float around in the lake for a bit, face down, with a snorkel. lol....
What do you do when you get thrown a curve ball? Really?
Improvise. Adapt. Overcome. (Thank you United States Marines!)
Improvise... float on my back a bit (mid-race!) and see when my heartbeat recovers.
Adapt... Breaststroke! Sidestroke! Backstroke! Keep moving in the direction of the finish line.
Overcome... The mental challenge is the hardest, because your mind can mess with you more than anything from the outside could ever hope to do. Not even a contest. Use your will. Use your strength. Defeat your own weakness. Come back stronger.
When I exited the water, I pretty much told myself I would never swim again, ever. Right.
Right.
Find me some water, I have some swimming to do.
So I got to Jenison, Michigan, just fine. Went down to check out the little lake we would be swimming in for a sprint triathlon. Good Lordy, that water was cold. 600 yard swim, 18 mile bike, then run a 5k. Simple. I've been doing these distances for a while now, and while I had slacked off on my short vacation, I had built up a pretty good set of distances and times.
The swim? 12 minutes, tops. Especially with a wetsuit.
The bike? Maybe an hour. I can usually hold 18mph pretty steady, but the first 7 miles were pretty up-hilly, and I am a flat lander, so... that should be interesting.
The run? Yeah... I am still not a fast runner, but I should be able to keep my 10min/mile, and kick it up a hair for 29 minutes, maybe a few seconds more.
Into the water we went!
I started in the 3rd wave. They were 2 minute intervals, and everyone was talking how they would probably wear their wetsuits for the bike to help warm up after the swim, etc...etc.. etc...
Water temp at race time was 62F ashore, so probably 58 or so towards the middle/turning marks.
Got off to a good clean start, nothing at all like the angry washing machine of the deep water starts for the Chi Tri. We were able to stand in 4ft of water for the start, so we were not fully immersed. I had done a little freestyle out to the start mark, so I knew it would be cold, but I felt ok.
First mark was about 180-200 yards out, and to the right (facing the lake from transition.) I got near the mark, took a quick peek over my shoulder. I was in the top 3rd of my start, swimming strong, felt strong, all is well in the world. We had caught the stragglers of the prior start, and were pulling in towards the middle of that group.
As I turned back and went head down, I got some water. Just a little bit. Swimmers know this feeling... you cough a bit... take a deep breath, and then it is back to business. Happens all the time.
Only this time, I choked a little. Throat closed up. Breathing stopped.
For those of you who do not know me, I took my first swimming lesson when I was 2 and 1/2. I've been swimming for 43 years. I am more comfortable in the water than out, and I am more comfortable UNDER the water than some people are in a bathtub!
And then... I had... A Moment.
A small... oh so small... but very real. Panic Attack.
Suddenly, I had vertigo. I was free falling through space. I could feel the cold water around me, but everything stopped. My chest constricted, the wetsuit choked my neck, the whole freight train of hell parked itself on me.
I had an immediate flash mentally, and rolled on to my back. I can float for days... someone brings me a cheeseburger now and then, and I'll drift to Hawaii, no sweat.
So there I am... first 3rd of a racecourse, floating on my back... 'Look.. a cloud. <breathe... breathe deeper> Look... another cloud <breathe again, dammit... get that heartrate under control... stop hyperventilating.. BREATHE.>.. nothing but blue sky....
I think I was on my back about 4 minutes; seemed more like 3 hours. I felt alone in the lake. I absolutely needed to get my shit back in order, and get out of the lake.
I had seen a number of swimmer turn back after the 1st mark, saying "F this... f-ing cold, screw this crap," etc...
It was about 250 yards to the next mark, then a turn towards home. I could do that. Hell, that is not even my warm up swim.
So I started to doggy paddle. Yup, hard core racing there, folks. Head clear out of the water, feet kicking breaststroke style... Just keep moving forward.
I rolled over for some more backstroke, and a helpful cloud let me glide pretty smooth and straight. I made some good distance, but I knew I really did not want my chest and face back in the water. I was just not ready for the cold, not at all. When would I warm up? July? No clue... just keep moving forward.
Around the mark. Headed for home. Nobody here in the lake but us chickens. More breaststroke... some freestyle (front crawl for you Brits,) but head-out-of-the-water-for-'sighting' freestyle. 1st swimming lesson freestyle.
50 yards to go, and I can feel the bottom under my feet. Start running... I reach a hand back, grab the zip line on my wetsuit, and I am 3/4 peeled by the time I hit transition. Time to bike, maybe it will help warm me up.
My time was pretty lame on the bike, too, but I know that was the after-effects of freaking out on the swim. It took a while to get that monster out of my head. To be honest, what I wanted to do was go into the porta-john and cry my eyes out from the most disconcerting, scary moment I have ever had in the water. I have never once been scared, let alone anything more, in the water. Never. Pitch black, no reference, no shore, jump over the side, cut some crap free from the boat in the middle of the night? Sign me up, coach, I'm all over that.
What the *** happened?
Cold. Cold, and not ready for it. Not even close to ready for it. And then a freaky choke moment, that took advantage of the cold in me. Cold does funny things, and this time it busted my chops good. I was still recovering 7 miles into the bike (which was mostly uphill, and upwind for that distance.)
I managed to hit a good downhill spurt, zipped up to my top speed (35.44 mph on my speedo,) and I was still pedaling, trying to accelerate. I was down hard on the aerobars, and it felt so good.
I pounded the daylights out of the rest of the bike course, but, let's face it, the damage was long done by that point. All that I was up for was finishing. Running is my weak point, and I turned in a 32 minute 5K, which is not horrible, but I did expect better.
And I finished last in my age group. 92 out of 99 for finishers (+11 that dropped out totally, so I beat THEM, too... bwahahaha... but none of them were in my age group.... poop.)
I was talking to the last person to finish. A girl, quite a bit overweight, had no wetsuit for the swim and first triathlon ever... but she finished. After we chatted for a bit, she said "You know, I came in last... but I finished ahead of every single person who is too chicken to give it a try. I am taking back control of my life, and this sport has not seen the last of me."
I gave her a really big hug.
The next thing I need to do is go float around in the lake for a bit, face down, with a snorkel. lol....
What do you do when you get thrown a curve ball? Really?
Improvise. Adapt. Overcome. (Thank you United States Marines!)
Improvise... float on my back a bit (mid-race!) and see when my heartbeat recovers.
Adapt... Breaststroke! Sidestroke! Backstroke! Keep moving in the direction of the finish line.
Overcome... The mental challenge is the hardest, because your mind can mess with you more than anything from the outside could ever hope to do. Not even a contest. Use your will. Use your strength. Defeat your own weakness. Come back stronger.
When I exited the water, I pretty much told myself I would never swim again, ever. Right.
Right.
Find me some water, I have some swimming to do.
Friday, May 3, 2013
How to start...
Hi there!
A friend of mine posted on my facebook page the other day (in response to me posting about a training bike/run,) "How did you get started?"
How does anything get started?
When it comes to any kind of endurance sport, just start small. People can even look at say.. a sprint Triathlon (~800 yard swim, 18 mile bike, and 5K run) and think 'Oh, that swim would kill me! I can't bike that far!'... etc... etc...
Simple. Start small.
ANYBODY (roughly) can run/jog/walk a 5K. It is 3.1 miles. If you grew up on Chicago's South Side like I did, from about the SouthEast corner of Ford City Mall to Mother McAuley High School's front door; or, if you are a Northsider, from the front sign at Wrigley Field to the Beach house on North Ave Beach (via Clark and North Ave.)
That is really not that far.
The swim is the most intimidating thing. People rightly kind of freak out in open water. Some people have never learned to swim. My mom took us to the YMCA when we were little, and they basically just threw us into the unheated pool. Grab the sides, try not to drown.
After that, I was always in the water if there was water to be in. Summers in Kentucky, swimming every single day rain or shine in the lake. Oceans are salty, which was strange for a sweetwater swimmer, but you get used to it (spit it out!)
Start small.
Don't even think of running a 5K.... well, except maybe as a goal. Just go for a walk. Plan on it every night, or morning, or whatever. just once a day, take a stroll. Doesn't even have to raise the heart. The idea is to just start doing SOMETHING, and walking is one of the most simple skills we learn. Anyone with children will tell you that you would almost have to prevent them to stop children from learning how to walk. They WANT to!
So get used to walking. You don't even need shoes!! (There are really good reasons to get behind why the barefoot running community calls them 'foot coffins.')
So you want to run now?
Remember, your body has a certain ability to heal and grow (even if you are 90!) We have to respect those limits, too. If you have been living a 'seated' lifestyle, had little to no physical activity (drive to the end of the block to get McDonald's) you need to let your body start that process correctly. It takes a little bit for the ligaments, joints, muscles, to get used to being used again.
There are all kinds of 'couch to 5K' apps out there, you can use one if you like, but the basic rule is this-- Start slow, increase slow, but don't give up.
The running rule of thumb for distance is only increase your running distance by 10% a week, never more. That seems to be a fair rule.
Another way of looking at it is in relation to time. When you are on those walks, pick up your tempo a bit, or trade off jogging a minute, walking a minute... jog/walk/jog/walk. I actually have a GymBoss timer that I use for interval training on my runs, and it beeps at user-set times. When I run, I have it set (for now) at 7/1, so when I run, I run/jog for 7 minutes, then walk for 1 minute, then run for 7, etc... Mentally, it is a game, because I always know I have a short walk in the very near future.
That is really it. You just have to find a way to start. Get that first walk in! Spring is here, so go take a walk around the neighborhood. I actually love running through neighborhoods. Check out the houses, etc.
Treadmill running is "OMG" boring. ugh. But, when the weather goes to crap, you can either run in life-threatening weather, or bounce along on a treadmill. I vote treadmill (even though I can palpably feel my brain rot when I forget to bring a new podcast, etc...)
IF you have ANY goal, especially for your first 5K, it should be along these lines-- "I know I can finish this, there is no time limit, so I am going to run/jog when I can, walk when I want, and pick up my t-shirt at the finish."
So you can set that goal. --'Run the Runway 5K' looks cool. It was in October last year. You get to run out onto the north runway AT O'HARE. How cool is that? you can WALK it!! no need to run!! But if you wanted to do a 5K, that would be cool. Pick one, if you want, just be realistic. Rome wasn't burned in a day.
Does it get any simpler? You still have not gotten new shoes! You most likely don't need them!
Now, if you want to do 5Ks, etc, regularly, or start running/jogging daily, you probably should go to a good shoe store and have a 'stride/gait analysis' done. They will look at how your foot lands, the loads you put on your body, and will probably recommend something really expensive. As a barefooter, I tend to be against that, but then again I have an awesome contact for barefoot (zero lift, zero drop, etc) shoes... they tend to be extra pricey!
You can get not quite so expensive shoes simply by asking if they have last year's model, etc. You could go for a stride/gait analysis, and then buy the shoes off of Amazon, but I think that is unfair (you went to get checked out, which they do for free, under the assumption that you will buy shoes from them.) But, to each his own.
Going further----
If swimming intimidates you, there are YMCAs, Master's Swim clubs, etc, that all have adult learn-to-swim programs, and I highly recommend them to anyone that does not know how to swim. I can teach you to swim, too. At the very least, I can help make you comfortable in the water. Not knowing how to swim or being afraid of swimming is nothing to be embarrassed about! No big deal. Lots of people don't know. Historically, until quite recently, even sailors did not necessarily know how to swim (honest-- if a warship went down, even in sight of land (such as during the Napoleanic wars, thinking of when Nelson found the French Fleet in Egypt,) everyone on board would usually drown. When you see figures on naval battle losses or casualties, by far the largest group of losses would be from drowning when the ship sank.)
You can swim... honest you can! The first thing to get over is the fear of water, and the only way to really do that is to... get this... get in the water. Get in shallow water, with someone you trust. wear a life jacket (honestly!) Get used to the feeling of the water around you. Some people never get used to that. That's fine... not everyone needs to learn how to swim (although I think everyone actually should learn how to swim enough to survive getting dumped into the water,) but it is certainly a good skill to learn.
Biking--
Did anyone not ride a bike when they were a kid?
Triathlon bikes are crazy expensive, but a bike is a bike. The most important things about a bike is that it fit. You can have a super high $$ bike (diamond crusted pedals, solid gold seat, etc,) and if it fits like sh*t, you can actually injure yourself riding it, and it will never be comfortable to ride. Take that old beater out of the garage and take it in to a bike shop to get updated (replace the rusted chain, etc... etc...) it doesn't even need to be a multi-speed bike, single speeds bikes are just fine! Have it fit to you. If the frame is too small for you, or it is too long a reach to the handle bars, you probably need to find a new (or different) bike, if you plan on riding for any length of time. No reason to damage your knees or hips by riding a bike that doesn't fit you.
You can find all kinds of used bikes on Craig's List, or EBay... just know what size you need. Again, you can go get a bike fit, and then use the info you get to buy someplace else.
And then just like the jogging, you simply have to go and do it. It sounds so trite, but the reality is, the only thing stopping you from going is you. I do a lot of running/swimming early mornings or nights after we put our son to bed. I want as little interference with my family as possible.
Simply put, in order to get started, you just have to.... wait for it.... start.
Cheers!
Scott
A friend of mine posted on my facebook page the other day (in response to me posting about a training bike/run,) "How did you get started?"
How does anything get started?
When it comes to any kind of endurance sport, just start small. People can even look at say.. a sprint Triathlon (~800 yard swim, 18 mile bike, and 5K run) and think 'Oh, that swim would kill me! I can't bike that far!'... etc... etc...
Simple. Start small.
ANYBODY (roughly) can run/jog/walk a 5K. It is 3.1 miles. If you grew up on Chicago's South Side like I did, from about the SouthEast corner of Ford City Mall to Mother McAuley High School's front door; or, if you are a Northsider, from the front sign at Wrigley Field to the Beach house on North Ave Beach (via Clark and North Ave.)
That is really not that far.
The swim is the most intimidating thing. People rightly kind of freak out in open water. Some people have never learned to swim. My mom took us to the YMCA when we were little, and they basically just threw us into the unheated pool. Grab the sides, try not to drown.
After that, I was always in the water if there was water to be in. Summers in Kentucky, swimming every single day rain or shine in the lake. Oceans are salty, which was strange for a sweetwater swimmer, but you get used to it (spit it out!)
Start small.
Don't even think of running a 5K.... well, except maybe as a goal. Just go for a walk. Plan on it every night, or morning, or whatever. just once a day, take a stroll. Doesn't even have to raise the heart. The idea is to just start doing SOMETHING, and walking is one of the most simple skills we learn. Anyone with children will tell you that you would almost have to prevent them to stop children from learning how to walk. They WANT to!
So get used to walking. You don't even need shoes!! (There are really good reasons to get behind why the barefoot running community calls them 'foot coffins.')
So you want to run now?
Remember, your body has a certain ability to heal and grow (even if you are 90!) We have to respect those limits, too. If you have been living a 'seated' lifestyle, had little to no physical activity (drive to the end of the block to get McDonald's) you need to let your body start that process correctly. It takes a little bit for the ligaments, joints, muscles, to get used to being used again.
There are all kinds of 'couch to 5K' apps out there, you can use one if you like, but the basic rule is this-- Start slow, increase slow, but don't give up.
The running rule of thumb for distance is only increase your running distance by 10% a week, never more. That seems to be a fair rule.
Another way of looking at it is in relation to time. When you are on those walks, pick up your tempo a bit, or trade off jogging a minute, walking a minute... jog/walk/jog/walk. I actually have a GymBoss timer that I use for interval training on my runs, and it beeps at user-set times. When I run, I have it set (for now) at 7/1, so when I run, I run/jog for 7 minutes, then walk for 1 minute, then run for 7, etc... Mentally, it is a game, because I always know I have a short walk in the very near future.
That is really it. You just have to find a way to start. Get that first walk in! Spring is here, so go take a walk around the neighborhood. I actually love running through neighborhoods. Check out the houses, etc.
Treadmill running is "OMG" boring. ugh. But, when the weather goes to crap, you can either run in life-threatening weather, or bounce along on a treadmill. I vote treadmill (even though I can palpably feel my brain rot when I forget to bring a new podcast, etc...)
IF you have ANY goal, especially for your first 5K, it should be along these lines-- "I know I can finish this, there is no time limit, so I am going to run/jog when I can, walk when I want, and pick up my t-shirt at the finish."
So you can set that goal. --'Run the Runway 5K' looks cool. It was in October last year. You get to run out onto the north runway AT O'HARE. How cool is that? you can WALK it!! no need to run!! But if you wanted to do a 5K, that would be cool. Pick one, if you want, just be realistic. Rome wasn't burned in a day.
Does it get any simpler? You still have not gotten new shoes! You most likely don't need them!
Now, if you want to do 5Ks, etc, regularly, or start running/jogging daily, you probably should go to a good shoe store and have a 'stride/gait analysis' done. They will look at how your foot lands, the loads you put on your body, and will probably recommend something really expensive. As a barefooter, I tend to be against that, but then again I have an awesome contact for barefoot (zero lift, zero drop, etc) shoes... they tend to be extra pricey!
You can get not quite so expensive shoes simply by asking if they have last year's model, etc. You could go for a stride/gait analysis, and then buy the shoes off of Amazon, but I think that is unfair (you went to get checked out, which they do for free, under the assumption that you will buy shoes from them.) But, to each his own.
Going further----
If swimming intimidates you, there are YMCAs, Master's Swim clubs, etc, that all have adult learn-to-swim programs, and I highly recommend them to anyone that does not know how to swim. I can teach you to swim, too. At the very least, I can help make you comfortable in the water. Not knowing how to swim or being afraid of swimming is nothing to be embarrassed about! No big deal. Lots of people don't know. Historically, until quite recently, even sailors did not necessarily know how to swim (honest-- if a warship went down, even in sight of land (such as during the Napoleanic wars, thinking of when Nelson found the French Fleet in Egypt,) everyone on board would usually drown. When you see figures on naval battle losses or casualties, by far the largest group of losses would be from drowning when the ship sank.)
You can swim... honest you can! The first thing to get over is the fear of water, and the only way to really do that is to... get this... get in the water. Get in shallow water, with someone you trust. wear a life jacket (honestly!) Get used to the feeling of the water around you. Some people never get used to that. That's fine... not everyone needs to learn how to swim (although I think everyone actually should learn how to swim enough to survive getting dumped into the water,) but it is certainly a good skill to learn.
Biking--
Did anyone not ride a bike when they were a kid?
Triathlon bikes are crazy expensive, but a bike is a bike. The most important things about a bike is that it fit. You can have a super high $$ bike (diamond crusted pedals, solid gold seat, etc,) and if it fits like sh*t, you can actually injure yourself riding it, and it will never be comfortable to ride. Take that old beater out of the garage and take it in to a bike shop to get updated (replace the rusted chain, etc... etc...) it doesn't even need to be a multi-speed bike, single speeds bikes are just fine! Have it fit to you. If the frame is too small for you, or it is too long a reach to the handle bars, you probably need to find a new (or different) bike, if you plan on riding for any length of time. No reason to damage your knees or hips by riding a bike that doesn't fit you.
You can find all kinds of used bikes on Craig's List, or EBay... just know what size you need. Again, you can go get a bike fit, and then use the info you get to buy someplace else.
And then just like the jogging, you simply have to go and do it. It sounds so trite, but the reality is, the only thing stopping you from going is you. I do a lot of running/swimming early mornings or nights after we put our son to bed. I want as little interference with my family as possible.
Simply put, in order to get started, you just have to.... wait for it.... start.
Cheers!
Scott
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Death by Bureaucracy
Long time no post!
This morning, I went down to Central Illinois, for the Illinois Food Safety Advisory Committee, Dairy Work Group Meeting.
In August 2012, the State of Illinois decided it needed to do something about raw milk sales in the state. Historically, raw milk in Illinois was simply overlooked, as long as it was not a commercial operation, or was separate from the commercial operation of dairy farms.
Everyone who reads this (all 4 of you!) know that I am a big supporter of raw milk as real food. I drink it every day, and so does Thomas. There is nothing like the flavor!
So when I found out from my good friends Kelly and Rick Boge, owners of Golden Guernsey of Illinois, that the State of moving towards very strict regulation, and would have a committee meeting that was open to the public, I finagled my schedule so they would be forced to give me the day off, and I could make the drive to Bloomington, IL.
I got to meet some great people even before the meeting came to order. Kelly and Rick have a friend who has 'spun off' part of their dairy operation, and John and Linda now run a branch (2 cows!) in North Barrington. I had a great time chatting with both of them; They lived in Guadalajara for about a dozen years, kids are grown, and having the time of their lives just caring for cows and chickens and helping provide real milk.
After a while, the committee chair called everyone to order, and we got down to the show. Molly Lamb, the leader, layed down the groundwork for the meeting, such as how it would be run, and who would speak, etc. Everyone on the committee introduced themselves, and they got down to business.
There were basically 2 sides (1 side had a pair of factions,) to the group. The State side, which included reps from the State, the FDA, and some of the large commercial producers. The "Farm to Consumer" side included the Boges, Donna OShaughnessy from South Pork Ranch, and a number of other independent producers, mostly small family farmers, and the like (some of whom have animal numbers as low as 2 goats or 1 cow.)(Now that is small!)
I am not going to get into the nitty-gritty of the meeting, not yet, at least. There are a number of resources that covered the meeting, and I want to go over my notes and compare them to the few news outlets that sent reporters so that I can give the correct info.
However, I now understand Death by Bureaucracy.
The Chair (Mrs. Lamb,) was asked a few times "What made the State of Illinois decide that we needed laws to govern our personal commerce in this regard?""Raw Milk has been available on farms for sale since Illinois was incorporated, what happened? Was there some massive outbreak of food poisoning from raw milk?"
She could not give a real answer. When asked Who had gotten the committee together to start investigating rules and rule making regarding sales of raw milk, who started the ball rolling? Somebody had to, right?
Well, there is no answer to that. This is the problem of rules by committee. Nobody is accountable. Not a single raw milk associated sickness in Illinois, going as far back as they kept records (1984,) however, suddenly, we need rules and regulations on supply and sales.
Nobody takes responsibility for the rules. It just happens.
Mrs Lamb is referred to as saying the reason for the committee to make rules, is right now there are now rules or regulations in the state governing the sales of raw milk.
So, basically, the State sees its job as this-- "There are no rules regarding this, so we must make rules for it."
Weird. Not surprised at all.
I have always been a believer that if there are not rules regarding something, and that something is fairly common, and is not hurting anyone, well.... why would there be rules?
Donna O had an interesting observation at the end of the meeting, where she had earlier made the observation that if something is not broken, don't fix it, she reminded us all that the reason most government departments exist is to prevent fraud, but they want to start meddling in the affairs of everyone they come into contact with.
"Things would be better if I could just fix..."
"There aughtta be a law..."
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
There was a great turnout, and I met some really fun and interesting people (like Donna O, who with her husband runs the South Pork Ranch (I will be contacting them to get a pig-share.. :) ) and a friend of theirs, Ashlee, who with her husband is just starting out in central Illinois as a small producer (they have 4 pigs!) and CSA.
I met a number of family farmers, people who have been farming for generations. One farmer said he was 60, had drank raw milk (mostly from the milking pail) his entire life, his father before him had, and his grandfather before him had. He said all of his children are fine and healthy, and they all drink the same, and so do his slowly growing grandchildren, the next generation.
I think it is pathetic, but oh-so-typical, that a State government would want to get involved in something that is so essential to life, and to livelihoods.
How do you strangle someone politically? You pass laws that don't need to be passed, you pass regulations that will cost too much money and time to comply with, and then you watch everything wither away on the vine.
I told my friends that as something politically horrible happens, and they ban the sales of raw milk, "As long as you have a place to hide a cow, I'm still buying."
That sentiment was echoed by everyone I met.
Cheers!
Scott
This morning, I went down to Central Illinois, for the Illinois Food Safety Advisory Committee, Dairy Work Group Meeting.
In August 2012, the State of Illinois decided it needed to do something about raw milk sales in the state. Historically, raw milk in Illinois was simply overlooked, as long as it was not a commercial operation, or was separate from the commercial operation of dairy farms.
Everyone who reads this (all 4 of you!) know that I am a big supporter of raw milk as real food. I drink it every day, and so does Thomas. There is nothing like the flavor!
So when I found out from my good friends Kelly and Rick Boge, owners of Golden Guernsey of Illinois, that the State of moving towards very strict regulation, and would have a committee meeting that was open to the public, I finagled my schedule so they would be forced to give me the day off, and I could make the drive to Bloomington, IL.
I got to meet some great people even before the meeting came to order. Kelly and Rick have a friend who has 'spun off' part of their dairy operation, and John and Linda now run a branch (2 cows!) in North Barrington. I had a great time chatting with both of them; They lived in Guadalajara for about a dozen years, kids are grown, and having the time of their lives just caring for cows and chickens and helping provide real milk.
After a while, the committee chair called everyone to order, and we got down to the show. Molly Lamb, the leader, layed down the groundwork for the meeting, such as how it would be run, and who would speak, etc. Everyone on the committee introduced themselves, and they got down to business.
There were basically 2 sides (1 side had a pair of factions,) to the group. The State side, which included reps from the State, the FDA, and some of the large commercial producers. The "Farm to Consumer" side included the Boges, Donna OShaughnessy from South Pork Ranch, and a number of other independent producers, mostly small family farmers, and the like (some of whom have animal numbers as low as 2 goats or 1 cow.)(Now that is small!)
I am not going to get into the nitty-gritty of the meeting, not yet, at least. There are a number of resources that covered the meeting, and I want to go over my notes and compare them to the few news outlets that sent reporters so that I can give the correct info.
However, I now understand Death by Bureaucracy.
The Chair (Mrs. Lamb,) was asked a few times "What made the State of Illinois decide that we needed laws to govern our personal commerce in this regard?""Raw Milk has been available on farms for sale since Illinois was incorporated, what happened? Was there some massive outbreak of food poisoning from raw milk?"
She could not give a real answer. When asked Who had gotten the committee together to start investigating rules and rule making regarding sales of raw milk, who started the ball rolling? Somebody had to, right?
Well, there is no answer to that. This is the problem of rules by committee. Nobody is accountable. Not a single raw milk associated sickness in Illinois, going as far back as they kept records (1984,) however, suddenly, we need rules and regulations on supply and sales.
Nobody takes responsibility for the rules. It just happens.
Mrs Lamb is referred to as saying the reason for the committee to make rules, is right now there are now rules or regulations in the state governing the sales of raw milk.
So, basically, the State sees its job as this-- "There are no rules regarding this, so we must make rules for it."
Weird. Not surprised at all.
I have always been a believer that if there are not rules regarding something, and that something is fairly common, and is not hurting anyone, well.... why would there be rules?
Donna O had an interesting observation at the end of the meeting, where she had earlier made the observation that if something is not broken, don't fix it, she reminded us all that the reason most government departments exist is to prevent fraud, but they want to start meddling in the affairs of everyone they come into contact with.
"Things would be better if I could just fix..."
"There aughtta be a law..."
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
There was a great turnout, and I met some really fun and interesting people (like Donna O, who with her husband runs the South Pork Ranch (I will be contacting them to get a pig-share.. :) ) and a friend of theirs, Ashlee, who with her husband is just starting out in central Illinois as a small producer (they have 4 pigs!) and CSA.
I met a number of family farmers, people who have been farming for generations. One farmer said he was 60, had drank raw milk (mostly from the milking pail) his entire life, his father before him had, and his grandfather before him had. He said all of his children are fine and healthy, and they all drink the same, and so do his slowly growing grandchildren, the next generation.
I think it is pathetic, but oh-so-typical, that a State government would want to get involved in something that is so essential to life, and to livelihoods.
How do you strangle someone politically? You pass laws that don't need to be passed, you pass regulations that will cost too much money and time to comply with, and then you watch everything wither away on the vine.
I told my friends that as something politically horrible happens, and they ban the sales of raw milk, "As long as you have a place to hide a cow, I'm still buying."
That sentiment was echoed by everyone I met.
Cheers!
Scott
Thursday, April 4, 2013
a short look back on 45 years
What a day!
It started out perfectly, with my family at home. Who could ever want more than your family to be with you and all of you to be in good health??
45 years... 1/2 way to 90. Yikes.
So, for my younger friends...
I was born in 1968. Martin Luther King Jr was shot the day I was born. I was adopted from a family in Seattle, and my adoptive family (mom and dad to me...) had to get on a plane and fly to Seattle. There were riots everywhere. What a way to start out!
1968. Vietnam still looked like it would have no end. Nixon was elected president. We had not yet set foot on the moon, and McDonald's introduced the Big Mac. The Boeing 747 first flew.
It was quite a while ago. No CDs (you mean records? no, CDs were not records...) no cell phones, and we used to walk uphill to school both ways.
I had a great day.
Facebook is funny... I was going through the absurdly long process of clicking 'like' on all my friends' comments and 'Happy Birthday!' notes, and I realized just how lucky I am. I have friends I have known since before Kindergarten (Marty McGreal grew up across the alley from me, they had a hoop on the back of their garage, and we used to play 'horse' for hours with a bunch of other neighborhood kids... none of us really play ball now, maybe because our 'home court' was barely legal for free throws!
So everyone from as far back as.. oh... maybe 4 years old... to grade school friends, to people I worked with at AA way back in 1989 (when the K side ended at K13, and nobody cared what you did, as long as the flights went out on time,) all the way to the present, with friends I have discovered and made only recently.
Funny, when I started at AA, there were a number (but not many) of guys who were hired before I was born... now I am in that very same spot!
My life is blessed by my friends, I am far too lucky.
Thanks for the great day!
It started out perfectly, with my family at home. Who could ever want more than your family to be with you and all of you to be in good health??
45 years... 1/2 way to 90. Yikes.
So, for my younger friends...
I was born in 1968. Martin Luther King Jr was shot the day I was born. I was adopted from a family in Seattle, and my adoptive family (mom and dad to me...) had to get on a plane and fly to Seattle. There were riots everywhere. What a way to start out!
1968. Vietnam still looked like it would have no end. Nixon was elected president. We had not yet set foot on the moon, and McDonald's introduced the Big Mac. The Boeing 747 first flew.
It was quite a while ago. No CDs (you mean records? no, CDs were not records...) no cell phones, and we used to walk uphill to school both ways.
I had a great day.
Facebook is funny... I was going through the absurdly long process of clicking 'like' on all my friends' comments and 'Happy Birthday!' notes, and I realized just how lucky I am. I have friends I have known since before Kindergarten (Marty McGreal grew up across the alley from me, they had a hoop on the back of their garage, and we used to play 'horse' for hours with a bunch of other neighborhood kids... none of us really play ball now, maybe because our 'home court' was barely legal for free throws!
So everyone from as far back as.. oh... maybe 4 years old... to grade school friends, to people I worked with at AA way back in 1989 (when the K side ended at K13, and nobody cared what you did, as long as the flights went out on time,) all the way to the present, with friends I have discovered and made only recently.
Funny, when I started at AA, there were a number (but not many) of guys who were hired before I was born... now I am in that very same spot!
My life is blessed by my friends, I am far too lucky.
Thanks for the great day!
Thursday, March 14, 2013
CSA starting up
So, Golden Guernsey of Illinois is also starting up a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture.)
They are planning on a weekly delivery starting late spring. $600 for a full share, $300 for a 1/2 share. We would totally be in on this, but we're gone a good part of the summer (between sailing and visiting family, etc... etc...) If you do not have room for a garden or want to support real agriculture, join a CSA.
They will have
(from their flier,)
Green beans
Broccoli
Brussel sprouts
Carrots
Cucumbers
Lettuce
Onions
Green onions
Spinach
Kale
Squash
Sugar snap peas
Peppers
Tomatoes
Beets
Corn, sweet and popcorn
Broccoli
Brussel sprouts
Carrots
Cucumbers
Lettuce
Onions
Green onions
Spinach
Kale
Squash
Sugar snap peas
Peppers
Tomatoes
Beets
Corn, sweet and popcorn
Potatoes
Eggplant
Zucchini
Grass fed beef
Oh my!
So the family (Rick and Kelly Boge of Golden Guernsey of Illinois) that we get our raw milk from had a run of bull calves, which is great, unless you are a dairy, in which case they won't be able to help much (try as much as you want, they just will not give you milk.)
On the other hand, you can eat them.
So, in keeping with their philosophy on all grass fed after weaning, the little bulls were let grow up to a good weight (a year for one, 13 months for the other,) and then taken down and made into steaks. We got some NY Strips, a roast, about 5 lbs of ground beef, some stew meat, and some liver. The fun/cheap parts were all sold out within a few hours! We were hoping for some 'ox'-tails, and of course bones to make broth with. Maybe next year.
At any rate, we had our first NY Strip from the Guernseys, and wow, were they yummy! Here is a shot of them before I did a last trim before cooking. I was tempted to grill, since the weather was nice, but I didn't want to overcook them on my first time grilling this year. I'll do that with hot dogs or burgers.
The amazing thing, is the yellow fat. When you see that white fat on ruminant meat, that tells you that it lived on grains, or anything other than grass. Grass for grass eaters turns the fat yellow, or yellow streaked. This is the sign of a very healthy animal. They have not had to call a vet out in years, because the animals eat what they were designed by nature to eat after weaning. Grass. Period.
Cannot wait to try more, and I am seriously bummed they ran out of the cheap and fun cuts so early.
Oh, I forgot, they are holding a tongue for us (how many jokes are contained there?)
More to come, I am sure....
So the family (Rick and Kelly Boge of Golden Guernsey of Illinois) that we get our raw milk from had a run of bull calves, which is great, unless you are a dairy, in which case they won't be able to help much (try as much as you want, they just will not give you milk.)
On the other hand, you can eat them.
So, in keeping with their philosophy on all grass fed after weaning, the little bulls were let grow up to a good weight (a year for one, 13 months for the other,) and then taken down and made into steaks. We got some NY Strips, a roast, about 5 lbs of ground beef, some stew meat, and some liver. The fun/cheap parts were all sold out within a few hours! We were hoping for some 'ox'-tails, and of course bones to make broth with. Maybe next year.
The amazing thing, is the yellow fat. When you see that white fat on ruminant meat, that tells you that it lived on grains, or anything other than grass. Grass for grass eaters turns the fat yellow, or yellow streaked. This is the sign of a very healthy animal. They have not had to call a vet out in years, because the animals eat what they were designed by nature to eat after weaning. Grass. Period.
Cannot wait to try more, and I am seriously bummed they ran out of the cheap and fun cuts so early.
Oh, I forgot, they are holding a tongue for us (how many jokes are contained there?)
More to come, I am sure....
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Limitations
A boy was born to an unwed mother he would never know-- he was adopted at 6 weeks. His adoptive mother died when he was five years old, and his father went in search of work around the country. From his family, he learned hard work and perseverance.
He dropped out of High School when his father moved again; he was working at a decent family restaurant, he was 15, and he wanted to stay working at the restaurant.
He enlisted in the Army, rose to Staff Sergeant, and when he was honorably discharged, he want back to the restaurant.
He eventually became head chef at the restaurant, and an opportunity presented itself. A restaurant owner had an interest in a number of restaurants, but he needed someone to turn them around... So our boy, now a man, took a chance with the encouragement of the family he worked for, and took them over. He helped the restauranteur come up with new images, campaigns, and he turned the 4 restaurants he was responsible for around. He turned them around so much, his share of the restaurants was worth $1.5 million.
He used that as seed money to start his own restaurant... and then, chain of restaurants, that he named after his daughter, Melinda Lou (also adopted, like he was... but she could not say her own name correctly, so she went by her nickname... Wendy.)
Dave Thomas finally went back to high school, and got his GED in 1993 (at 61.) He received the Junior Achievement Business Hall of Fame induction in 1999.
Nearly all of our limitation are mental... they are self imposed.
You are the person in charge. You have to find it within yourself to do better, when you need to do better. To rise above what is merely expected of you, and to excel. There are always some limits about which we can do nothing... (NO amount of practice will ever get me to where I can slam dunk a basketball. It is just not ever going to happen,) so you need to learn how to find what you are good at.
Simply, we need to learn to play to our strengths, and play away from our weaknesses. So you are not terribly capable physically? You do not have raw strength? Find ways to use leverage. Find ways to use little angles to your advantage.
While you do that, get stronger. Get mentally stronger, too. Find a way. If you cannot find a way, then find a way to accept who you are, and be the best YOU that you can be. Opportunities will present themselves.
But mostly, believe in yourself. Then, suit actions to thoughts. Don't settle. Forgive yourself. We are only human. Success has failure written all over it in very large letters. "Overnight sensations" sometimes take years of work to get that one night when it all comes together.
Sometimes... it never comes together. Even then... forgive yourself, and move on. Live your life, and enjoy the life you live.
Cheers! (and be of good cheer!)
Scott
He dropped out of High School when his father moved again; he was working at a decent family restaurant, he was 15, and he wanted to stay working at the restaurant.
He enlisted in the Army, rose to Staff Sergeant, and when he was honorably discharged, he want back to the restaurant.
He eventually became head chef at the restaurant, and an opportunity presented itself. A restaurant owner had an interest in a number of restaurants, but he needed someone to turn them around... So our boy, now a man, took a chance with the encouragement of the family he worked for, and took them over. He helped the restauranteur come up with new images, campaigns, and he turned the 4 restaurants he was responsible for around. He turned them around so much, his share of the restaurants was worth $1.5 million.
He used that as seed money to start his own restaurant... and then, chain of restaurants, that he named after his daughter, Melinda Lou (also adopted, like he was... but she could not say her own name correctly, so she went by her nickname... Wendy.)
Dave Thomas finally went back to high school, and got his GED in 1993 (at 61.) He received the Junior Achievement Business Hall of Fame induction in 1999.
Nearly all of our limitation are mental... they are self imposed.
You are the person in charge. You have to find it within yourself to do better, when you need to do better. To rise above what is merely expected of you, and to excel. There are always some limits about which we can do nothing... (NO amount of practice will ever get me to where I can slam dunk a basketball. It is just not ever going to happen,) so you need to learn how to find what you are good at.
Simply, we need to learn to play to our strengths, and play away from our weaknesses. So you are not terribly capable physically? You do not have raw strength? Find ways to use leverage. Find ways to use little angles to your advantage.
While you do that, get stronger. Get mentally stronger, too. Find a way. If you cannot find a way, then find a way to accept who you are, and be the best YOU that you can be. Opportunities will present themselves.
But mostly, believe in yourself. Then, suit actions to thoughts. Don't settle. Forgive yourself. We are only human. Success has failure written all over it in very large letters. "Overnight sensations" sometimes take years of work to get that one night when it all comes together.
Sometimes... it never comes together. Even then... forgive yourself, and move on. Live your life, and enjoy the life you live.
Cheers! (and be of good cheer!)
Scott
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Workouts on overnight
Hi all! (all 3 of you that read my blog, that is.)
One of the problems for flight crew members on overnights, is where to work out? (If you work out, that is.)
A number of hotels advertise that they have a health and fitness room, and when you get to the converted single hotel room, you find that they have 2 treadmills, one of which has been missing some rollers for at least 2 years, and an exercise bike with mismatched pedals. Oh, and a water cooler.
Some hotels, like the Sheraton and Hilton chain, have really Primo workout facilities. Such as our hotel in DCA, the Sheraton Pentagon City. I would bid trips here just to use the workout facility (aside from going to the spy museum, Arlington Cemetery, visiting friends, all the usual.) This is actually pretty normal for some Sheraton hotels, at least in the US and Canada, from what I have seen. I am not positive, though, because we don't stay at that many!!
Plus, off to the side, you can't in this picture see the exercise balls, foam rolls, yoga mats, etc. Those are off to the right.
One of the things you can do on overnights for exercise is walk or run. This takes no equipment (honest... not even clothes, you could go naked and barefoot.... although that might bring other problems.) Yes, you can swim (also doesn't require anything more than what you were born with,) but the Potomac in February is, shall we say, not a viable option.
The problem with swimming is finding a place to swim. Rivers are cold and/or shallow, plus, what is in it? Lakes, etc... you really have to know the area. Most hotel pools are ridiculously short for proper lap swimming.
So we are down to walking, jogging, and running.
True, some areas are better than others. Our old overnight in Allentown/Bethleham, PA, was not a location to be jogging around... unless you had an armed escort!
But for the most part, you can walk almost anywhere, really. Walking is basic to humans as animals. It is our primary mode of transportation. Even if you are going to drive someplace, you will walk to your car, you walk around your house or apartment, you walk from your parking spot to the store you are going inside, etc. (Yes, I know not every single human being can walk. We're not getting into handicap access, etc, here.)
So walking is truly primal. Actually, we probably need to walk a bit more, certainly in the USA.
Aside from that... If you want to get a workout in, walking/jogging/running only goes so far.
So I am a big fan of bodyweight workouts. This starts with simple calisthenics, and goes right on to al the MovNat stuff, P90X, etc.. etc.. etc..
I am a cheap-o, so P90X is out. If you are using it, and it works for you. Awesome. N=1. If something works for you, and you are healthy, then rock on.
So, digging around the internetz, I came across Mike Chang, and his YouTube channel, SixPackShortcuts. Now, I know most of you don't know this, but I do have a SixPack... actaully, I have 2 of them. One is in my fridge, the other is my stomach, although that one is covered by a small pony keg of fat.
Mike is great. He is silly, but best of all, he really gets into the workouts, and the biggest piece of equipment you need for them (he does have weight training workouts on there, too) is a simple hand towel (this is what makes them perfect flight crew overnight workouts.)
Just a couple samples of what he has out there. You can do all of these in the comfort of your hotel room, even on a short overnight. Best of all... they are free.
Here is his beginner workout. Simple, 7 minute workout.
If you are a little more advanced... This is a 1 minute cardio workout. Repeat until you can't use proper form anymore.
There are a bunch of videos to pick. A number of them are more complex workouts, but they all use bodyweight, High Intensity Interval Training, and he laughs at himself and doesn't take things too seriously. Here is one of my favorites. Getting your ass kicked with a hand towel.
I like that he also shows the girl on the right doing pushups from her knees, so you can do this even if you can't do 'proper' pushups, you can still do a variation of this. The entire workout takes less than 30 minutes... how much of a workout do you need?
Anyways, more to come.
Cheers!
Scott
One of the problems for flight crew members on overnights, is where to work out? (If you work out, that is.)
A number of hotels advertise that they have a health and fitness room, and when you get to the converted single hotel room, you find that they have 2 treadmills, one of which has been missing some rollers for at least 2 years, and an exercise bike with mismatched pedals. Oh, and a water cooler.
Some hotels, like the Sheraton and Hilton chain, have really Primo workout facilities. Such as our hotel in DCA, the Sheraton Pentagon City. I would bid trips here just to use the workout facility (aside from going to the spy museum, Arlington Cemetery, visiting friends, all the usual.) This is actually pretty normal for some Sheraton hotels, at least in the US and Canada, from what I have seen. I am not positive, though, because we don't stay at that many!!
Plus, off to the side, you can't in this picture see the exercise balls, foam rolls, yoga mats, etc. Those are off to the right.
One of the things you can do on overnights for exercise is walk or run. This takes no equipment (honest... not even clothes, you could go naked and barefoot.... although that might bring other problems.) Yes, you can swim (also doesn't require anything more than what you were born with,) but the Potomac in February is, shall we say, not a viable option.
The problem with swimming is finding a place to swim. Rivers are cold and/or shallow, plus, what is in it? Lakes, etc... you really have to know the area. Most hotel pools are ridiculously short for proper lap swimming.
So we are down to walking, jogging, and running.
True, some areas are better than others. Our old overnight in Allentown/Bethleham, PA, was not a location to be jogging around... unless you had an armed escort!
But for the most part, you can walk almost anywhere, really. Walking is basic to humans as animals. It is our primary mode of transportation. Even if you are going to drive someplace, you will walk to your car, you walk around your house or apartment, you walk from your parking spot to the store you are going inside, etc. (Yes, I know not every single human being can walk. We're not getting into handicap access, etc, here.)
So walking is truly primal. Actually, we probably need to walk a bit more, certainly in the USA.
Aside from that... If you want to get a workout in, walking/jogging/running only goes so far.
So I am a big fan of bodyweight workouts. This starts with simple calisthenics, and goes right on to al the MovNat stuff, P90X, etc.. etc.. etc..
I am a cheap-o, so P90X is out. If you are using it, and it works for you. Awesome. N=1. If something works for you, and you are healthy, then rock on.
So, digging around the internetz, I came across Mike Chang, and his YouTube channel, SixPackShortcuts. Now, I know most of you don't know this, but I do have a SixPack... actaully, I have 2 of them. One is in my fridge, the other is my stomach, although that one is covered by a small pony keg of fat.
Mike is great. He is silly, but best of all, he really gets into the workouts, and the biggest piece of equipment you need for them (he does have weight training workouts on there, too) is a simple hand towel (this is what makes them perfect flight crew overnight workouts.)
Just a couple samples of what he has out there. You can do all of these in the comfort of your hotel room, even on a short overnight. Best of all... they are free.
Here is his beginner workout. Simple, 7 minute workout.
If you are a little more advanced... This is a 1 minute cardio workout. Repeat until you can't use proper form anymore.
There are a bunch of videos to pick. A number of them are more complex workouts, but they all use bodyweight, High Intensity Interval Training, and he laughs at himself and doesn't take things too seriously. Here is one of my favorites. Getting your ass kicked with a hand towel.
I like that he also shows the girl on the right doing pushups from her knees, so you can do this even if you can't do 'proper' pushups, you can still do a variation of this. The entire workout takes less than 30 minutes... how much of a workout do you need?
Anyways, more to come.
Cheers!
Scott
Thursday, February 14, 2013
At Long Last
So, those of you who have known me, even for quite some time, have almost always seen me with a missing tooth.
I lost that tooth chomping on a pretzel on Super Bowl Sunday, 1996. Honest. I had a filling that had cracked, and when I bit down on a pretzel, that spelled the end of that tooth.
So, I am finally getting everything fixed! (Hey, when I procrastinate, I really procrastinate!)
So, cool stuff in the dentist office-- They have a computer aided guide that they will be using to guide the titanium post into my jaw. Since there has not been a tooth there in ages, my jaw bone has thinned a little bit.. Part of the body's design... if you are not using it, you lose it. Here is the preliminary shot, complete with angles, etc... cool! Should have a whole new smile by the start of sailing season.
Cheers!
Scott
I lost that tooth chomping on a pretzel on Super Bowl Sunday, 1996. Honest. I had a filling that had cracked, and when I bit down on a pretzel, that spelled the end of that tooth.
So, I am finally getting everything fixed! (Hey, when I procrastinate, I really procrastinate!)
So, cool stuff in the dentist office-- They have a computer aided guide that they will be using to guide the titanium post into my jaw. Since there has not been a tooth there in ages, my jaw bone has thinned a little bit.. Part of the body's design... if you are not using it, you lose it. Here is the preliminary shot, complete with angles, etc... cool! Should have a whole new smile by the start of sailing season.
Cheers!
Scott
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Sublime Scrambled Eggs
I'm a big fan of Julia Child, Jacques Pepin, and even Gordon Ramsey. This is a bit of a combination on how they make scrambled eggs. [There is an interview floating around somewhere of Mr Pepin saying something to the tune of '... and if you have a lady friend stay the night, the least you can do is make her a proper omelet.'
Eggs are amazing. I love eggs, and I have eggs for breakfast almost every day. This is the way that I prefer to make them. I think it shows off the best flavors of the eggs, it brings out the best.
The ingredients are simple, and it should take you less than 10 minutes from start to finish. Don't be afraid of eggs....
This is most of my breakfast in the morning, so adjust appropriately:
3 Eggs
Scallions
Cheddar Cheese
Splash of Milk
S and P to taste
Notes on ingredients--
Eggs
I go pretty far out of my way to get free range eggs. This is the most important ingredient. The eggs are beautiful. The hens are out amidst the cows on the farm, doing their chicken-y things. You can't get more free range than that.
Scallions
Preferably from your own garden, but these are just green onions, finely chopped (you don't need a lot, just to flavor.)
Cheddar Cheese
I use Trader Joe's Raw Milk Cheddar. Illinois law requires raw milk cheeses to be aged at least 60 days. No problems. Love the taste, and it is natural. DO NOT get pre-grated cheese. They have to add powdered silica to the cheese to get it not to all clump together. You don't really want to eat sand, do you? Any other cheese you like? Give it a try!
Milk
We use raw milk from my friends at Golden Guernsey in the western Chicago suburbs. We easily drink a gallon a week, and I make the drive out to visit once a week to keep it fresh. LOVE real milk. RAW milk. Give it a try...
The only 'prep' work you need to do is chop the scallion (Sacre Bleu!! Heavens forbid!) You will find what the taste you like is... but I found that about the area of an egg in scallions is a good flavor for 3 eggs scrambled. Not an exact number...
Here is about 'egg sized' little pile of scallions. You can re-use the green onion to get your scallions for maybe 2 weeks. If parts of it appear to be going soft, just chop them off and cut deeper. Discard when you get to the whitish part of the onion, unless you like a pretty pungent flavor.
Eggs-- When you crack eggs, hold them in your hand and rap them once, quickly, on a flat surface. this way, you don't break the egg yolk (Yes, we are making them scrambled, but if you do it the same way every time, when you want over easy you will do the same action.) So, hold like this (although slightly against the palm of your hand... I had to hold it like this to take the picture.) [Off the cuff, I have a record of weeks at a time without breaking a yolk. I seem to break every 4 or 5 yolks right now.... bad streak!!]
Now, you will be doing two things simultaneously. Get the butter going in the pan, and whisk your eggs. I use real butter, please stop using oils to cook in. If you use oil, add some butter or lard of manteca or schmaltz, or whatever... you need those saturated fats in the REAL fat to protect the unsaturated fats from oxidizing. And for God's sake, don't use Crisco. Throw it away. THAT shit will kill you.
You want your butter to reach the point that the bubbles are subsiding. Hard to get in a picture, but you don't want it to start browning. Hot, but not burnt. (All of this takes place over fairly low heat. I use a gas top, electric tops take some adjusting.)
While your butter melts, whip or whisk your eggs. Add your splash of milk here. Ramsey says to add butter, do what you'd like, but a little fat makes things a bit more 'sprightly.' You want them as uniform in color as you can once you start. I use a fork, some people use a whisk, Julia Child would use chopsticks... whatever works for you. Just don't over do it. Once it is at a uniform color, and the butter is hot, into the pan it goes! [Don't add S and P yet... supposedly, they'll make the eggs a little more runny.]
Once it is in the pan, you can add the scallions, scatter them around liberally. I usually just scrape them off the cutting board. These are for flavor, so if you find you like the flavor, add more!
You'll notice the edges of the eggs start to harden a bit. If you are using a non-stick pan, just scrape gently from the edges towards the middle, and the slightly more cooked eggs from the bottom of the pan will bunch up towards the center. When they start to form that way, grate the cheese directly into the eggs in the pan. Don't be shy, just get it right in there. The cheese will melt and incorporate a bit into the eggs. This way if they sit for more than 10 seconds, you don't have a cheese film on top of your eggs... they will all stay happy together.
You are going to keep pulling the eggs towards the center. Flip them over a bit as you do this, so that they are cooking evenly. I don't like dry eggs, so I just keep everything moving. Once they are willing to 'bunch up' for you a little tightly in the middle of the pan, you can bring them to the plate. As soon as they are plated, add a little S and P if you would like... I prefer just a touch of pepper, and I do not salt a lot of my food, but if you wanted to, now is the time.
And voila! Sublime Scrambled Eggs. Total time, 10 minutes, start to finish, most likely less once you have done it a few times. Dig in!
Cheers!
Scott
p.s... figuring out cost. Back of the envelope parsing here-- I get eggs at $6/dozen (you can get cheaper, but not REAL free range); Milk is $8/gallon, cheese is like $10/lb, and scallions are maybe $0.50 a bundle. So the total cost of this meal is about $1.90-$2.00. MAXIMUM. Even though they are all expensive ingredients, you can make REAL food CHEAPLY. Especially if the scallions come out of your own garden, or you have a little hen house (free eggs every morning!!) or, of course, you are totally farmsteading and have your own cows and make your own cheese.
But even buying the most expensive stuff that I can, breakfast comes in at under $2.50 (Being insanely generous with the pricing.) Time? <10 minutes. Price? ~$2.00. Why would you have anything else? Get cooking!!
Eggs are amazing. I love eggs, and I have eggs for breakfast almost every day. This is the way that I prefer to make them. I think it shows off the best flavors of the eggs, it brings out the best.
The ingredients are simple, and it should take you less than 10 minutes from start to finish. Don't be afraid of eggs....
This is most of my breakfast in the morning, so adjust appropriately:
3 Eggs
Scallions
Cheddar Cheese
Splash of Milk
S and P to taste
Notes on ingredients--
Eggs
I go pretty far out of my way to get free range eggs. This is the most important ingredient. The eggs are beautiful. The hens are out amidst the cows on the farm, doing their chicken-y things. You can't get more free range than that.
Scallions
Preferably from your own garden, but these are just green onions, finely chopped (you don't need a lot, just to flavor.)
Cheddar Cheese
I use Trader Joe's Raw Milk Cheddar. Illinois law requires raw milk cheeses to be aged at least 60 days. No problems. Love the taste, and it is natural. DO NOT get pre-grated cheese. They have to add powdered silica to the cheese to get it not to all clump together. You don't really want to eat sand, do you? Any other cheese you like? Give it a try!
Milk
We use raw milk from my friends at Golden Guernsey in the western Chicago suburbs. We easily drink a gallon a week, and I make the drive out to visit once a week to keep it fresh. LOVE real milk. RAW milk. Give it a try...
The only 'prep' work you need to do is chop the scallion (Sacre Bleu!! Heavens forbid!) You will find what the taste you like is... but I found that about the area of an egg in scallions is a good flavor for 3 eggs scrambled. Not an exact number... Here is about 'egg sized' little pile of scallions. You can re-use the green onion to get your scallions for maybe 2 weeks. If parts of it appear to be going soft, just chop them off and cut deeper. Discard when you get to the whitish part of the onion, unless you like a pretty pungent flavor.
You want your butter to reach the point that the bubbles are subsiding. Hard to get in a picture, but you don't want it to start browning. Hot, but not burnt. (All of this takes place over fairly low heat. I use a gas top, electric tops take some adjusting.) While your butter melts, whip or whisk your eggs. Add your splash of milk here. Ramsey says to add butter, do what you'd like, but a little fat makes things a bit more 'sprightly.' You want them as uniform in color as you can once you start. I use a fork, some people use a whisk, Julia Child would use chopsticks... whatever works for you. Just don't over do it. Once it is at a uniform color, and the butter is hot, into the pan it goes! [Don't add S and P yet... supposedly, they'll make the eggs a little more runny.]
Once it is in the pan, you can add the scallions, scatter them around liberally. I usually just scrape them off the cutting board. These are for flavor, so if you find you like the flavor, add more!
You'll notice the edges of the eggs start to harden a bit. If you are using a non-stick pan, just scrape gently from the edges towards the middle, and the slightly more cooked eggs from the bottom of the pan will bunch up towards the center. When they start to form that way, grate the cheese directly into the eggs in the pan. Don't be shy, just get it right in there. The cheese will melt and incorporate a bit into the eggs. This way if they sit for more than 10 seconds, you don't have a cheese film on top of your eggs... they will all stay happy together.
And voila! Sublime Scrambled Eggs. Total time, 10 minutes, start to finish, most likely less once you have done it a few times. Dig in!
Cheers!
Scott
p.s... figuring out cost. Back of the envelope parsing here-- I get eggs at $6/dozen (you can get cheaper, but not REAL free range); Milk is $8/gallon, cheese is like $10/lb, and scallions are maybe $0.50 a bundle. So the total cost of this meal is about $1.90-$2.00. MAXIMUM. Even though they are all expensive ingredients, you can make REAL food CHEAPLY. Especially if the scallions come out of your own garden, or you have a little hen house (free eggs every morning!!) or, of course, you are totally farmsteading and have your own cows and make your own cheese.
But even buying the most expensive stuff that I can, breakfast comes in at under $2.50 (Being insanely generous with the pricing.) Time? <10 minutes. Price? ~$2.00. Why would you have anything else? Get cooking!!
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