It just struck me

I just had to pre-register for a Cat 3/4 event with a field limit of 100 because it might sell out.

The first time I raced McClane, the Cat 3/4 women's field was so small (6) that they combined us with the Cat 4/5 men. Wasn't that much different than your typical Saturday Morning ride. Hang on for dear life and hope you don't get caught in anyone's ego. Well, thats no way to grow the sport with women.

I think the following year we got our own race and there were maybe 12 of us. But at least the promotor gave us our own category.

And I take a little break and come back and have to preregister because 70 women are already signed up.

How cool is that?

Senlling

I don't care how you spell it. It was F-U-N.

Big pack, but no crashes.
Sunshine, but no bees.
Cool, but little wind.
Big ring, but no cramps (well almost)
Teammates, but no pressure
Pack finish, but no worries
Food, but no guilt

Choices

I came home tonight mentally prepared to hop on the trainer.
I did.

I did.

But, see...I haven't been home, while awake, for more than several hours over the past month. And...it shows. The house is just at the point where its icky enough that I can't relax (or hop on the trainer) in it.

So I made the difficult decision to put off a trainer workout to get some needed chores around the house done instead.

Except...the sheer volume of that task was monumental. Somewhere between watering the plants and throwing away a basket of rotten sludge, I gave up. Lets not even talk about that fridge.

Instead, I changed into my jammies, grabbed some chocolate and some wine, and I am typing out this silly blog instead.

I hope my coach doesn't find out.

Finally paying for it

Ugh.

Better dust off the trainer and the chicken timer.

Fit for a queen

Oooo....lookie what Brenta Claus brought home on his sleigh.

California Dreamin

"The break is now four riders on this wide open descent. They are Jens Voigt (CSC), Sebastian Lang (Gerolsteiner), Viatcheslav Ekimov (Discovery) and Nick Reistad (Jelly Belly). They have about 20" on the field. "

Gee...wonder what is going through the head of the Jelly Belly kid right now?

Madame Sabinski

While driving around the Central Valley last weekend, we saw the hugest neon sign for a palm reader. Wish I took a picture of it, because now I realize that blogging about it, without a pic, is kind of boring.

But trust me, that was one impressive palm.

Can't believe I have to turn around and head back to the Central Valley again tomorrow, and then again next weekend, and then again? Thats okay, we have so much fun traveling and racing and driving and acting fools and spreading schmoop, that it doesn't really matter where we go.

So what was I talking about?

Oh yeah..Palm readers. Okay.
While I was at Target the other day picking up flair and sidewalk chalk, I also picked up a magic squishy ball. Its sitting on my desk right now. Its squishy. And its magic. When you squish it, it gives you the answer to any yes or no question. Thats how magic it is.



For instance-
Sabine: Will anyone even read this ridiculous blog?
Magic Squishy Ball: Time will tell

See?

So, if you are really really bored and you have a question for the magic squishy ball, let me know and I will consult it for you.

And no lame crude jokes about squishy balls.

Late update: Oh! I just found a pic of that palm reader sign. Damn this internet thing is cool.

Just curious

I wonder how they handled the road closure on this stage? Its not like there are lots of cross streets on this road.

Home

I moved away because of the fog, but if it were always like this, I might have stayed put.

Coastal Longings

Between trying to get work done, I have been peeping at the live feed of today's stage in Big Sur.

Ahhh...Big Sur.

I know that coastline so well, that I can identify all the little coves and cliffs the helicopter camera zooms past. I can smell the salty rocky kelp air and hear the thunder of the waves as ocean meets mountains. There is no sound on the helicopter feed, but thats okay, I know the sounds.

These are my old stomping grounds. Literally.

Before cycling ruled my life, I hiked these parts several times a week. Often times even stealing away after work to hike a ridge and watch the sun set behind the most beautiful panarama in my world.

My favorite hike is a little spot south of the highlands called Soberanes Point/Garrapata Ridge. If you have hiked it you know why. The trail is like a symphony that slowly unfolds and changes, with a bold crescendo at the top, a dropped note pause, and a pleasant rippling dance of notes that carry you to the bottom.

The noisy coastal mayhem of ocean/mountain clash, gives way to a quiet arroyo section of cacti covered hillsides with only the rippling sounds of a small stream and the busy buzz of insects.

A trudge further down the trail lands you quite suddenly into a dense and moist redwood grove. The babbles of the brook echo off the giant trees. The wind creaks at the top of the trees.

A climb up and out of the grove, leads to the real climb, about 2,000 feet to the top of the mountain at the edge of the world. The rhythmic sounds of breathing guide your feet up the steep slopes.

I have fond memories of the top. Peering out at the little ribbon that is highway 1 and the funny little ant cars zipping along it. You can hear the roar of the ocean and the bark of the lions from up there, but you pleasantly cannot hear the cars. They don't matter from this perspective.

The rush of the warm thermal winds brush past your ears.

Once, while standing on the edge, soaking in the wind/sun/scenery/glory, I came eye to eye with a condor. The bird suddenly appeared, lofted by the draft, and paused on the winds directly in front of me. It took some time for me to realize that this landing craft with the naked red head and tags on its wings was a mythical condor. And maybe it took the condor some time to realize that I was still alive. The nine foot wingspan took my breath away and filled my field of view. And during that time, there were no sounds. At least none that I remember. All was paused. But eventually, the great bird flicked a wing feather, kicked a 45 degree angle, and drifted off.

After a pause and some time to ponder or not ponder the glory of life you head down the face of the ridge.

The trail back has a full frontal view of the ocean and depending on the time of year is lined with wildflowers. A poppy path colorfully displays the way home. The trail is steep, the footing slippery, and the feeling of whirling downhill almost out of control, delightful. Rocks crunch and grind under your feet. Some pebbles escape and bink boink down the cliff. Small laughter sometimes escapes too.

At the bottom, the trail slows. You are back at the entrance. The creek burbles and churkles as it slowly meanders through the Calla Lillys, as if to prolong the inevitable plunge into the ocean. This is the last distinct sound before you come out of the canyon and are greeted by the return of the ocean crunch and crash.

I can't wait to share this music with him.

Luck-ky

Today was one of those days when nothing really went right, but everything was alright.

It all started with me thinking I would get up early so that I could chalk up the roads before work. Yeah. Noble intentions. I actually forgot this morning that I wanted to leave early and didn't remember until I had already arrived at work. How I even make it to work everyday on such an addled brain is beyond me.

Only choice left now is to sneak away from work and go chalk up before they close the roads.

Once at the roads I realize that all the blue and pink stuff I bought doesn't show up at all. Only white and neon. So I use up all the white and neon, but it only gets me 3 Bens and a heart. Pretty paltry chalking for all the hubbub I created around it.

And it was beautiful up there in the morning light. And the angel was there in her hair rollers and without her wings. But did I remember to bring my camera? Of course not.

I zoom back to work to try and get actual work done. So that I can zoom back out to the race during my lunch "hour". But the server at work is down and I can't get much done. It comes back up at about the time I need to leave for lunch.

I go to my car to change into my bike clothes because I am hoping to mix in some suffervals with the trip to the race. (Again with the noble intentions). I start to gather my bike clothes when I realize that I have forgotten my bike shorts. I only have cover tights. Lovely. Not one to miss a ride, or a race, I put on the tights, sans chamois. Oy.

(At least its not like wearing loafers when you forget your bike shoes for a ride with the Discovery Channel team or anything. )

So now I am off to the race. Oops. Forgot the camera. Back to the car, grab camera, and now I am off to the race.

I notice that the tights have a giant hole in the thigh and my bare thigh skin is poking out. Again, lovely.

By the time I make it to the course, the race has already started and I cannot ride to the top. None of the marshalls cared that I really really wanted to take a picture of my silly sidewalk chalk art. So I walk up to the S turn at the bottom of Willow. This was actually a pretty groovy spot to watch and take pics.

S = sexy

All those boys hitting the lean-shift-lean of the s turn, while disk wheels made that rolling train noise. Sexy.

I whip out the camera to take some pics of that action. Ugh, I have a love hate thing going on with my camera. Its a funky little $300 autodigipic thingie. I've learned to trick its automatic settings and squish a little magic out of it, but sometimes you need the real deal. And when the pro boys are hitting an S-exy turn at max speed, only the real deal will do.

I keep getting pics of trees and motocops in focus, while riders remain blurried. Crappy.

I had some serious lens envy.

Of course, that envy didn't last long, because my batteries died after about 15 crappy blurry pictures.

So I put the camera away and just hang out and cheer. Practically went hoarse screaming for Ben. Watched Floyd come ripping through the S-exy turn twice as fast as anyone else. He used every damn inch of that country road.

Race is done and I start to head back. I notice a big group of guys coming back from the turn up the road. The group of guys are some of my favorite riding buds from back in the day. I haven't seen them in ages. And here they were just up the road the whole time, but I missed them for all the fun stuff. We hug and trade quick how are yous and now I really really am late for work.

My nine 2 minute suffervals turns into one 18 minute sufferval.

Rush to get changed, rush back to work. Work late to make up for lost time. Walk out to empy parking lot at night at the end of the day. Turn key in ignition. Turn key again. Try one more time because this can't be happening.

Battery is dead.
And so is parking lot.

I walk back to my office, look up towing joints, and call for a jump. I wait around for a really long time in cold empty parking lot because the driver will be "right there".

The truck finally shows and I suddenly can't find my keys. I scramble to look for them and realize they are back in my office. Tow truck driver says he can't wait and that he'll be back after another call. Nooooooo.

I go back, get keys, and decide to clean out my car while waiting.

Tow truck guy comes back, gets the car running and I finally drive home.

Whew.

A quick phone call with my favorite person in the whole world resets me. Ahhhh...thats better. Nothing else has gone squirrely so far, so I think the run is done.

And as I kick back with some wine and reflect to spit out this quick blog, I can't help but smile and think what a damn fun day I had.

Lucky.

Chalk Report

It takes a lot of chalk to write a name. Especially on chipseal. I used 3 giant pieces of sidewalk chalk. And Ben's name is only Ben. Good thing I wasn't sending chalk love to his teammate Dominique.

White chalk is the best color. Bella colors do not stand out at all. But so what.

I am not an artist. I shouldn't even try. The heart, in Bellas Heart Ben, looks like a blue and pink lump of Playdoh. Bellas Playdoh Ben.

It hurts when you run out of chalk and scrape your knuckles across the pavement. Ouchie cheese grater.

I just noticed that I have blue paint under my nails.

It was fun seeing all the pre-race stuff occuring up there. Specialized has lots of tents set up. Gotta hand it to them for the guerilla marketing with the Specialized Angel chick. She was up there too just now. Except her hair was in rollers and she had no wings or makeup. Wish I had my camera.

The Discovery team came by while I was chalking. They are just so rock star. Johan was following behind and he had a huge smile on his face. Wonder what he was so happy about? And again, me without my camera.

More later....

Priorities

All this weekend racing means that my chores are backing up. There is now a long long list of stuff that needs to get done. Adulthood is so annoying sometimes.

So, what do I do yesterday at lunch? Get that tire fixed? Change the oil? Go to the bank?
No. I went to Target to buy sidewalk paint and chalk. (I also picked up some new flair while I was there, so that was a bonus.)

And this morning, I really need to get started on writing those employee evaluations. But that has to wait because I need to rush out of here and go paint stuff on some roads real quick.

Be back soon.

Spectating

Spectating is so much more fun when you have someone to cheer for. Thanks for making it exciting for us Ben. Kissessssssss

Lunchtime Distractions

Oh.
Its going to be hard to go out and ride at lunch today.

Bike Race

This is for a bike race. In the US.
And ESPN coverage.
And without Lance.

Nice.

Too sexy

What's this? Must know more....

Morning Read

One of my all time favorites ever.
Frishy

Space Case

So a guy I know invited me over to his space. His space, not his place. His space as in "My Space".

I hopped over and clicked around for a while. And for the life of me, I can't figure out what the hell is going on over there. Its sort of a singles profile meets yearbook signatures, except with a soundtrack.

It was also like blog comments, without the blog post. Its just a listing of all of these vague chirpy cutesy "aren't I clever" comments. And I must not be too cool for school, because while I was entertained for a bit, I was lost. Hadn't a clue what these people were rattling on about. I think my attention span is too long for that place...or space.

So for now, I think I will stick with this boring ol blog. And maybe I will get to visit my friend on a ride instead.

Mission Statement

Its all cool to have a mission in life. A soapbox to stand on. Something that gets your fire going. But puuuuuuleaze, have some reasonableness about it. Trust me, the whole world is not out to get you.

Unless of course, you treat it like it is.

Flygirl

jesus.

I just noticed that my fly is unzipped.

Now I'm doing that mental retrack of where I've been and who might have seen. I'm hoping this long sweater I'm wearing covered it all up.

What a nerd I am.

Sidewalk Chalk

wow

check out this cast of characters

Ben's definitely getting some chalk. And most of it.
Taylor might if he stops calling me "mom"

Georgie and Eki will get a nod, and some for Il Falco on the descent

Simoni might get a Ciao Bella

SchlepRock Floyd needs some NorCal love

Who else needs some chalk?

More Craigslist Wierdness

Finding a rental share in Santa Cruz is weird. Here's a sample from today's listings:

"Housemate(s) wanted for shared kink-friendly, queer-friendly, pansexual adult household, Capitola Area (near Santa Cruz). Shared space: "Leather" living room for play and relaxation." (Pic above is from this listing)

"We are nine people (six adults, three children) ages 4, 6, 9, 20, 28, 38, 39, 40, 59. Our combined interests include writing, cooking, organic gardening, composting, tree-climbing, art, kayaking, cycling, acoustic guitar, computers, psychology, nonviolence, aikido, singing...... "

"We prefer would someone under 30, but it is not end all."

"Your room would be a garage. "

"Problems with the room are: you share space with the washer/dryer (though the laundry area is sectioned off from the room by a huge curtain... and we are very careful not to do laundry when it will disturb you), and there are no windows"

"Xavier is 23-ish (he wasn't here for me to ask, but I think he's 23/24), a recent graduate of UCSC, works as an assistant director and he is a total carnivore"

"and I am not at all 420 friendly so please if that is your deal, you would not be the best fit. "

"Don't fret about poop and fur and what not. We're very tidy"

"within walking distance of downtown and near bus routes. You'll never have to drive drunk again"

Oopsie

Do not accidentally type craigslist.COM when you want craiglist.org

Especially if you are at work and you have subverted the filter blocker thingie.

Bloggie Bloggie Blog Blog

I've been blogging over here.

Lots of clicky clicky stuff over there to keep you occupied for now, yes?

Some Sommelier Something

Tonight's pairing is an extra large glass of Bonny Doon Big House Red, married with a bowl of Kashi Crunch. The winey tones of some sort or another are a fine match for the extra fiber and crunch of the, well, Crunch.

And the legs are nice too. But thats for another post.

Seeing Stars?

Thank you Brent for helping me overcome the fuzzy logic that is CSS.

CSS stands for Confusing Sabine Sideways...because it was. Each time I tried I either got a blank page or a black page. Although with some of the posts I've been putting up, a blank page would have been an improvement.

Turns out the color and the background had to be seperated in the body. Ummm...yeah. So Brent figured that out in about 10 nanoseconds.

And the man can 80s dance like nobody's business.

I am soooo happy to be rid of the pink.

Valentine silliness

Doing a little Valentine's day shopping?

How about Petacchi? He just won a stage in some kind of race, so he's looking to have another fine season. Plus, he's looking fine and seasoned. Especially if you like the strong silent type. He's sort of the new world Guido (and I mean that in the nice way). Less flash, but smooth italian styling none the less.

Speaking of fine Italian styling, you might want to consider Baby face Basso. With those bedroom eyes speaking the language of love, there is no need to be fluent in Italian.

And, since we are on an eyes theme, we have to mention Santi "Hot and cold" Botero. Botero is a fine choice for those of you who prefer your men a little more swarthy. His arms are a bit too Robin Williamsish for me, but ohh...those eyes...Yo me llamo Cumbia.
There is no better way to balance out all of this latin love, than with a big hearty Norweigan. God of thunder indeed. Thor is all viking man meat.

Looking for something a little closer to home? There is always the winner of the best legs contest, Eric Woolybird. This Canadian is all packed tight into a fine little package of quadilicious yumminess.

And love him or hate him, but give him props for some sweet style, I just have to include Georgie. His dimply lispy shyness, coupled with his quiet cycling strength, tripled with his ability to wear a suit in style, has got to be applauded. And this shot, is pure sexy.

And there was a reason that the image search on Mario was a hoot. That man knows how to show up. Every damn picture of him had ooomph. He knows how to win, and knows how to live
His smile is big genuine love of life. He scores a triple photo display this Valentine's Day.

And of course, there is lots of scrumptiousness right here at home. There just isn't enough time for me to post it all. Plus, I need to go out and do my suffervals while I am all revved up.

Mary Loves Bike Peoples

So do I.

This picture kills me. As did Josh's love for his new vase.

Exorcism

An exorcism was performed this weekend.
It didn't involve a priest, spinning beds, and latin gobbledygook.

But it did involve a few pesky little demons.

Who needs a priest when there is apple pie, cherry blossoms, springtime weather, and someone who believes in you?

Big breath of life. Mmm...good.

Amen.






psstt...thank you for helping me be me. Your motivation gives me strength. And lets not even talk about that lovely carrot you dangle. Arrrrrrrrr baby....

Alert Status Upgraded to Severe

Warning
I feel some schmoop coming on

Daddy-O

Its the big Five O!
wow.
I would never have guessed. Thank god for cycling keeping us so young...even if only at heart.

I can never thank you enough for all you have done for both me personally and for the team. None of this, and I mean none, would have been possible without your inspiration, creativity and spirit. And this is too public a forum for me to go on about what knowing you has meant to me personally.

Who woulda thunk that little print out we looked at over coffee at Morgans would come to this?

You continue to be a gift to this team...one of the sparkly people in this world. I do hope you make some time out of your busy day to enjoy a quick ride, or some stolen moments with your beautiful family. Or maybe just get really really drunk.



And I am so so sorry about the helmet...whoopsie times three. But Miss Mary is on it now and unlike me, she's all responsible like.

And, not to be overshadowed, special Bday greetings also go out to the bunny. Don't worry, when you turn 50, I'll write something all schmoopy like this for you too.

Evite

If you think the evite responses are fun....

The Evite:

Theme will be our CX Season Tiki/Luau so come dressed to have fun! This Party is being given as a thank you to all our super-duper volunteers & sponsors this past cyclo-cross season. We could not have pulled it off without you all. For those who can't make the date, I'll make sure to print life size photos of you guys and paste them in their own chairs. (Maybe Dawn can use one of them to dance with.)

A Sampling of Responses:

Cynthia
Sorry but I wont be able to make it. I have a Baptism and Fondue party for this same date

Karyn
I so need to be lei'd, but my fear-of-commitment-to-pretty-much-everything prevents me from actually waaanting to be lei'd . . . maybe.

Sabine (+ 1 guest)
okay...I have to crack up that Cynthia has a baptism and fondue thing going... Dunk one in water and the others in cheese. So sorry if I am the only one that sees the humor in that.

Steve (+ 1 guest)
Fondu and Baptism ... I've heard that one a 100 times!

Laura (+ 1 guest)
Count us in, thats me the dashboard hula girl and Steviekickiebootie.

Isaias
cool! i'll bust out my hula skirt and coconut bra...that iz if I can find my bra. I think I lost it at the first DFL race ;-)

sarah
I'll bring a spare coconut bra for the wild boys

Meredith
if people don't make it, and there's life size photos of them on the chairs, does that mean we will technically be sitting on their faces? cool, can't wait!

brennabella (+ 1 guest)
I wanna be lei'd, but since I'm already knocked up, I'll show up, but please don't be horrified by my, eckhem, size, (BBB). Or if you are horrified, don't let me know and please tell me how beeuteeful I look:-)

Dawn (+ 1 guest)
A possible party with an undisclosed location where I am potentially performing? Gee, I'll have to pencil it in. Can we add the stipulation that all people bring a sane and healthy single male cyclist between the ages of 32 and 43? That could make me use permanent ink. Hey, now that you've updated the invite, my response isn't so funny! Damn, timing is everything.

kathleen
Single male cyclists (Dawn supplying?), sitting on peoples faces, getting lei'd? Even if there's a race the next day, how can one say 'No' to that invite?!

sheila (+ 1 guest)
I hope someone is bringing the lei material because I am fresh out - tall, lean and sexy are my only requirements!

simon66
I'll see you all on the dance floor. Get ready to Shake, Break and Boogie.

Brent Chapman
I have scraped my trip to celebrate the most painful days of last year with the ones who brought me to that pain. :) Since Jen has a Date, I will go with Simon as his date. Simon, no flowers needed. .. now where is D-kwans dance video??... I know i had it a while ago..... hmm maybe i put it in the bag that went to the goodwill. oh.. maybe i can enjoy a beer by then.

ann (+ 1 guest)
Beer!

Call to Action

Because sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

These guys say it better than I could:

"For one thing, it is not a wine so much as a call to action, an entreaty, an appeal to reacquaint oneself with the pleasures of the sensual world. It also happens to be an unguent/boisson that must needs be slathered about or accompany the most tasty and tender chocolate covered bits one can, well, tender. On a more qualitative plane, the wine is almost unnaturally rich and viscous. When the wine is poured, the aromas of raspberry, cassis, and licorice fairly billow out of the glass in an almost cartoony, Barbera Eden sort of way. Though the wine has considerable tannin, those tannins are almost completely buried under the richness and extract and yumminess. “Decadent” is a grossly overused adjective among the academy of wine writers, but one can easily imagine, no offense intended, Hef in the grotto washing down his little blue friend with a flagon of BC in anticipation of innumerable momentos de la verdad"

Bonny Doon really needs to sponsor us. Or at least me.

Kissypoo

I think I made this face today during my suffervals.
In fact, I'm pretty certain I did.