Author Archives: asher
Initial Review: Mizuno Wave EVO Cursoris Running Shoe
Tonight I got a little run in on the treadmill.
Since this involved first clearing all the accumulated detritus (including, oddly enough, an ottoman) from the treadmill, I got a bit of a shuffling-things-around workout as well. Once I had that sorted, I did 30 minutes at an easy jogging pace with a little warm up and a little cool down. Chased the whole thing with a bunch of stretches.
My new running shoes — a pair of Mizuno’s Women’s Wave EVO Cursoris shoes in electric pink — performed as nicely on the treadmill as they did on the pavement on their solo voyage.
According to the product description on Amazon.com, they’re designed to “facilitate transition to a midfoot stride;” since I run that way anyway, they’re much more comfortable for me than are shoes designed for folks who prefer a heel-strike landing. I don’t think there’s necessarily one right way to run that will work for everyone, so if you’re a confirmed heel-striker and that’s what works for you, these may not be your ideal shoes. That said, they are a very light, fairly “minimalist” shoe that gives you a good feel for surface beneath your feet, so they might be worth a shot if you’re looking to shave off some grams (do runners do that?) and maintain good ground feel.
Reviews online note that these shoes pack a wide toe box, and they’re right. They’re like duck feet! Initially, I was concerned that the wide toe box might not work for me, but it actually does. The midfoot narrows enough to keep everything in place, and that wide toe box leaves a ton of room for heat to dissipate. The idea is to feel like it’s not there, and that’s pretty much how things work out. My feet feet pretty happy in there, with plenty of room to breathe.
The enormous and numerous ventilation holes are also nice: the upper is basically a double layer of mesh. This keeps your feet from overheating both during indoor workouts and, presumably, when it’s warm outside. I look forward to seeing how they fare this summer.
The color, of course, is fierce. I have owned pink shoes before (my little rubber slip-on shoes that I bought to bring with me on bike-camping trips are black with shell pink accents), but I have definitely never owned hot pink, yellow, and black shoes with iridescent leopard print accents before. I think Mom was surprised that I bypassed red shoes and bought pink ones (the red ones didn’t suit my feet as well), and I’ll admit that a part of me thought, “These shoes may be to femme even for me,” but they’ve really grown on me.
Retail on these puppies appears to range from around $80 to around $120. I got them at TJ Maxx for something like $40, which is a pretty nice price. They had quite a few pair available at the Wethersfield Shopping Center TJ Maxx, so if you’re in the area and in the market for new running shoes, you might give them a look.
Thus far, I really like these guys. I think they’re going to work out well for me. I can’t even say I did my homework before I bought them; it was pretty much a whim — buy some inexpensive running shoes a quick jog while on vacation. It seems like I picked a pair of winners.
In a Nutshell: Pros
- Lightweight
- Minimal drop
- Good ground feel (minimal “padding”)
- Well ventilated
- Ideal for mid-food landing runners
In a Nutshell: Cons
- Probably not ideal for heel-strikers
- Not really suited for outdoor runs in cold weather
My Beautiful Mountain Machine
The Karakoram made its appearance last Thursday. We had a snow day on Friday, so I set it up and brought it outside, but I hadn’t yet inflated the tires properly.
Today I gave it some air and took it for a quick little test spin down the driveway, around the cul-de-sac, and back. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll take it to school; perhaps not.
It’s a nice bike: mannerly enough for my off-road trepidation, but also sporty enough, I suspect, to romp a bit once I build more confidence. The fit is quite nice. At first I thought I might want a more upright stem due to my pathetic little T-rex arms and short upper body, but now I think I’m going to keep the set up as it is. It is decidedly more upright than the Tenacious Tricross (and of course far more so than the Fearsome Fuji) without being a mamachari. Not that I’d mind something mamachari-like (but with gears, because my neighborhood is what it is) in the stable.
I will try to take pictures of it soon. Today the light is perfect but I am missing my mojo, evidently.
Tomorrow is my final final. After that I just have to submit a bunch of stuff for my Research Methods and Statistics class — sort of a final project thing — by Friday evening. Then I can get back to being a homemaker, spoiling the cat, and perhaps doing some riding just for fun on the Marvelous Mountainbike … errr … Crankin’ Karakoram? Big Bertha?
Who knows. I’ll come up with something to call it.
Timothy is captaining a gravel ride out in Commiskey on Saturday. I’m planning to hitch a ride out with him and to take the Karakoram. It will be fun to see how the new bike handles on the rough stuff, not to mention discovering whether or not I’m capable of making it go respectably fast. Given the fact that it has a saucer-in-front/dinnerplate-in-back gear combo and 100mm of travel up front (should I need it), I’m fairly certain I’ll be able to ride it up walls and over all kinds of stuff.
This depression is still doing a number on me, but I am doing what I can to mitigate its effects. Denis helps immensely, though he constantly feel as if he isn’t doing enough. The difficult thing about this particular depression is simply that I feel dead inside. I just feel sapped. I have not lost the knowledge that there are good things in my life and things in my future I should be excited about; I am just not capable of being excited.
Still, I am glad that I have bicycles, because riding helps keep the worst of it under control.
Now I need to go clean my kitchen and figure out what to feed my husband.
Stay warm (if you’re in the northern hemisphere) and/or cool (if you’re in the southern hemisphere) and keep the rubber side down.
Because I Have Nothing To Cry About
because I live in the grip
of the longest and fiercest depression I’ve suffered in years
because I’ve tried most of the drugs
and every last one of them failed
because I keep hoping
that this will get better
because I am losing my grip
because I lie awake nights
tormented by memory and music
because I am ready to let it all go
and each little failure feels like the end of the world
because I have never been late
and now I am late all the time
because I am starting to lose all I was, am, and will be
because all that remains is a falsehood
because the thoughts have returned
because I keep putting a brave face on it
muddling through
because I am certain
that nobody knows how I feel
not anyone
nobody
because I have made my own bed
and now I must lie in it
I am writing this
one last pronouncement
one last provocation
one last desperate lurch
one last plea for pardon
for a commuted,
a transmuted sentence
now
before the teeth of the winter close in
before nightfall
before the end of all things
and in the face of the Ruiner that reigns
in the face
of the wild joy—
almost forgotten—
of being
next week
next week
please, dear G-d,
let next week be better.
(Sorry about wonky formatting. I don’t have it in me to futz around with the CSS that drives layout on this thing right now.)
This Stupid Day
In fact, today wasn’t really a stupid day.
It was a pretty good day.
We worked on stuff in Chem lecture that went really well for me (it turns out I freaking love math, but that’s another post). We got Exam II back in Sensation and Perception and I did really well (a 96; could’ve had a 98 if I hadn’t completely forgotten to answer question 31, but 96 is fine). We even got out of class early, and I got to ride my bike 8 whole miles (whoopee!).
Given the Usual Bronchitis (which, it turns out, is more like a sinus infection that has been exacerbating the crap out of my asthma and maybe a mild bronchitis), riding 8 miles in cold weather actually does feel like a big deal. I had forgotten what a difference my little nylon terrorist mask balaclava makes — I can breathe through it pretty well, but it somehow takes the cold edge off the air; the edge that freaks my lungs out so badly. And, of course, medicine helps.
I even stopped and picked up dinner stuff — chicken, a take-n-bake multi-grain baguette, a couple other things — and came up with a dinner plan and rearranged some of the financial records in the basement (and discovered that Denis has complete financial records back to when I was in grade school — no, seriously, grade school, I’m not kidding).
When I got home, I ate lunch, I did the prep work so I could have dinner ready when Denis got home, and I ran a couple of loads of laundry…
…And still I find myself feeling pretty glum.
Some of it’s just the usual hormonal circus. I wouldn’t want to stop being an intersex person. I like me the way I am (and Denis really, really likes me the way I am). I would, however, not mind a little more stability in the hormonal department.
Admittedly, it’s worse than it could be right now, because being sick made for a quick, hard taper on the bike. Riding is totally my mood stabilizer, so right now I’m essentially off my meds, heh.
And then, also, our house is a disaster area right now.
I mean, it could be worse. We aren’t by any means at DEFCON-Hoarders or anything like that. It’s just cluttered; the surface clutter of the past two months or so. I just lost all control of my household responsibilities a while back and haven’t been able to regain it.
I am deeply and abidingly annoyed about the house (and the fact that I am like a month behind on the finances) right now. I just don’t know how to begin untangling the knot. It doesn’t appear that my recent efforts have made any improvements, and therefore they seem meaningless and like a waste of time.
Denis has taken over washing the dishes for me, which has been a help, but I miss being the reason that he never had to lift a finger once he got home. I realize for a lot of people that wouldn’t be a huge motivator; for me, it is. Different strokes for different folks.
The difficulty is learning balance. I still really, really suck at balancing … well, anything. This summer I learned that even a rigorous training schedule can derail my ability to manage the house. Two hours’ scheduled ride time somehow turns into two hours’ ride, plus lunch, plus rambling around after lunch running errands, and then I get home and I have essentially no time ’til Denis returns from work (admittedly, the fact that Denis gets home at a different time every day is very hard for me).
This is frustrating. It’s a problem I don’t know how to fix. I realize that medication might be part of the answer in the long term. Like, actual medication. Not just bike “medication.” I recognize that I’m probably going to need more help than that in the adult world, even if my adult world, after I graduate, means staying home and raising kids rather than going to med school or whatever. In fact, I’d say that medication might be about twice as helpful if I decide to keep doing the homemaker thing, because I’ll have to manage all the things I’m worst at — time, scheduling, etc.
I am no longer at a point where I’m willing to keep flogging myself. It’s stupid not to use tools that work. More effort won’t help; if I make any more effort, I’ll explode. More focus will help, and medication can help with that.
I’m just rambling. Anyway, at the end of the day, all this stuff sometimes leaves me grumbling, This stupid day. Which is, in fact, stupid in and of itself, because today was actually a glorious and a pretty darned good day.
And the rest will eventually get sorted, or the whole ship will sink and we’ll start over.
I guess I’ll try to remember that.
That’s it for now. Bikier stuff is coming.
Keep the rubber side down, and try to keep at least one surface free of debris. You need somewhere to put your wheel when you’re changing your tires, after all.
A Few Quick Words About Grief
I’ve been caught up in an inner debate.
You guys out there in the Blogosphere know the drill: “Do I write about this or not? Is it relevant to my audience? Is it just going to be, you know, a distraction?”
The answers are: Yes. Who knows? Maybe, but it might be a meaningful distraction.
We recently lost a good friend to pancreatic cancer. Very, very recently.
He was one of those amazing people who you would say are fearless, except I don’t think he was even afraid to be afraid. Definitely not in any way afraid of his feelings. The kind of guy who makes things happen; the kind of person who brings the party. A beautiful man gifted with the heart of a child and the mind of … oh, I don’t know, Quentin Crisp? Someone sharp and smart and sassy. He was dear and droll and funny and sweet and caustic and we loved him, and I didn’t even realize how much until now. He was a little older than Denis: too young for this.
Evidently I met him once before the memorial service for his first husband, but I am remiss in that I don’t remember it. I remember every moment we spent with him after that, though: first with him, then with the man who would settle into his life like … oh, I don’t know. Like a photon falling on some retinal pigment that has at last recovered from its most recent bleaching, activating it, giving it purpose again.
They became a couple that lit up every room they entered. The party they threw on the anniversary of the first husband’s death became one of the highlights of my adult life. The last dinner we had with the two of them — just them and the two of us, lingering on the deck in the late, golden summer light — is another one.
Grief is a difficult thing. I am not afraid or ashamed to admit that it is, for me, entirely selfish. Death is no great trial to the one who passes on. It’s the rest of us left behind that find ourselves hurting, aching, trying to figure it out.
How can someone I have only known for a couple of years, someone I saw so rarely, occupy such a space in my heart as this?
Denis pointed out to me that grief is a funny thing. You never grieve only for your immediate loss; rather, all the great losses of the past are stirred up again. I think he might be on to something.
I did not expect to find myself suddenly (and, I must admit, unsuccessfully) choking back tears in Chem Lab. I did not expect to be so off or so distracted or to take this so hard.
I didn’t think about it much at all during the weekend. For me, when things do strike me this deeply, they just sneak up, catch me unaware.
At the end of the day, grief, like everything else, is what it is. Pop psychology notwithstanding, there is no easy formula; no neat process by which we can check off all the boxes and be done.
In a sense, it is never done: instead, you learn to live with it, maybe even to make peace with it. Then every now and then some new grief comes along and stirs up the bottom.
That’s life. It’s okay. It, too, is what it is.
I don’t know what else to say about this, so I guess I’ll stop here.
I hope the bikes on the other side are awesome, and that the rubber side always stays down.
Sometimes I Mystify My Husband
Yesterday I went to the grocery store. While I was busy doing so, Denis took a side trip to K-Mart.
When we regrouped, he discovered that I had purchased a bag of frozen scrambled egg patties and looked at me as if I’d grown another head.
What surprised Denis was learning that I didn’t realize that I could very easily make eggs ahead and freeze them myself. Huh. Go figure. You just put a bunch of eggs in a muffin-top pan and bake them. The nice part is that you can use local eggs and you get to control what goes into the patties (which, in my case, will be eggs and … well, eggs).
Anyway, I’m now in the midst of researching the best ways to create make-and-freeze breakfast sandwiches, since I am evidently summarily incapable of getting my act any more together than it already is in the mornings (briefly summarized: I like to get up and head out the door in 30 minutes or less; if I take longer, I dawdle, get disorganized, and make myself late). This means that I frequently run into breakfast-related logistical issues (which, admittedly, are sometimes solved by Carnation Breakfast Essentials, but I’m trying to eat real food in the mornings now).
For a while, I compensated by buying our extremely-cheap breakfast stuff at school, but apparently other people have discovered breakfast, so now it takes too long. The frozen patties mean I can nuke a couple of eggs and whip up a sandwich in about a minute and a half, which is great, but apparently it’s really easy to make entire English muffin sandwiches and freeze them, and then you just nuke the whole thing. Sounds like a good deal.
In other, more topical, news, today was a better day on the bike. A guy I’ve ridden with a few times here or there caught me on my homebound commute and we spanked along at 20 MPH or so for a few blocks until he had to turn off. He’s one of those super-fast junior racer types, so that was cool.
The momentary effort reminded me that the way to regain speed, when you’re recovering from an illness or whatever, is to go fast. This isn’t rocket science, and yet sometimes I forget anyway.
Anyway, this is the first evening I’ve been home alone in quite a while, so I’m going to go see if I can beat the kitchen into submission before Denis returns from helping his brother get a new business launched.
If I’m not back in three weeks, send a search party … and, of course, keep the rubber side down.
Tandem Time!
Yesterday, we finally got out for a tandem ride with Dave and Diane. They have a tandem as well — a nice blue Trek with an awesome sparkly flame decal on the bottom tube.
Denis was lamenting the fact that we didn’t have matching Zombie Raccoon jerseys — but, conveniently enough, Dave had one that was too small, so we made him an offer he couldn’t refuse 😀 Denis changed before we headed out, so we matched on the ride.
Barring a brief and alarming episode right at the start of the ride during which my bars pivoted (evidently they loosened up when the tandem fell over in the truck), we enjoyed riding together.
Stops included dinner at the Bristol, Denis’ favorite restaurant, then proceeded on to Apocalypse Brew Works. Our last stop of the evening was at the Comfy Cow on Cardinal Ave for an ice cream nightcap.
Dave and Diane at the Comfy Cow!
Denis and me at Comfy Cow!
After that, we rolled back to Dave’s house and called it a night.
Next week, we’re going to try to hit up the Jack-O-Lantern Spectacular in Iroquois Park. I might even remember to take pictures of the actual bikes!
Cooler Weather Brings Neoprene Socks
Once upon a time, long ago, I bought a pair of Nashbar’s “Ragster” sandals. Shortly thereafter, I wrote a review of the same.
Since then, my Ragsters have been on all kinds of rides, on all kinds of surfaces, all over Kentucky and southern Indiana. They even went for a ride in Washington, DC.
Now, after more than a year and untold miles on the bike, they look a little worn, but they’re still holding up just fine.
The Ragsters are my go-to everyday commuting shoe. They’re blissful on the bike and decently comfortable off, a feat they accomplish by sacrificing a measure of stiffness (they’re not built for racing, but well over 90% of the riding I do isn’t racing). In fact, I would say that their only weakness is that, being sandals, they’re not really adapted for colder weather.
Thus, neoprene socks.
I have a feeling they’re really designed for cold-water dives — they look a lot like scuba socks, complete with “fabric magic closures” and those little bumpy dots on the bottom for grip. However, I ordered my neoprene socks (and a matching pair of gloves) with the intention of using them under my mountain bike shoes during the Gravel Grovel and other cold-weather mixed terrain adventures.
This week, we finally started seeing some cool mornings: temperatures in the upper 40s (Fahrenheit). I broke out my fall kit: wind vest, arm warmers, bib knickers, mesh-backed full finger gloves (which do the job in temperatures from about 40F to about 80F) … and, of course, the neoprene socks.
I wasn’t sure how they’d do. Would the socks fall down? Would they play nicely with the Ragsters? Would my feet get swamp rot and fall off by the end of my first class?
I’m glad to say that the answer is a resounding: “No. Yes. No.”
At this point you can call me a believer. The socks fit just right. They keep my feet nice and warm in the chilly morning air. On cooler days, I wear them over the tall socks that I think of as “knicker socks.” In the afternoons, when it’s too warm for the neoprene socks, I just peel them off and toss ’em in a pocket (inside out, so they’ll dry). I tighten up the toe strap on the Ragsters a little and I’m good to go.
My feet stay warm, but not so warm they’re uncomfortable. Thus far, they haven’t developed swamp rot. I don’t feel like I’m spending the day sloshing around in puddles of my own sweat. In short, the neoprene socks are doing their job rather nicely.
I haven’t yet had a chance to see how they perform in a downpour or when dipped in a creek. I plan to orchestrate such an opportunity soon. It will also take some while to sort out the question of durability. At only $10, though, if they last even one season, they’ll have proven themselves an acceptable purchase. Winter kit can be pricey, and these are less expensive than bike-specific toe warmers or shoe covers and definitely less expensive than waterproof winter bike shoes (of which I already have an acceptable pair, but one which is not at all suitable for racing).
The company that sells these, LTD Commodities, also sells a pair of neoprene gloves with grippy dots. I bought those, too, but they probably won’t see use ’til we get a good, cold rainy day. The fit is solid, though, and I’m looking forward to trying them out.
Pix and an immersion-test review forthcoming.
Stay dry out there, and keep the rubber side down!
Obstacles That Seem Insurmountable When You’re Depressed
- Finding a working pen.
Seriously.
If this is Step One in your plan for the day, and you’re relying on the Plan to get you through, the Plan unravels.Fix: Stock working pens ahead of time, somehow.
- The Kitchen.
The kitchen is pretty much the bane of my existence when I’m depressed. Our kitchen is tiny. We have very little counter space. Dishes piled in the sink drive me crazy. This means it takes approximately two meals (assuming I don’t have the wherewithal to clean as I go, like I do when I’m not depressed) to turn the kitchen into what feels like a hopeless wall of chaos.Fix: Suck it up and do one-pot meals out of boxes or microwave meals and so forth for a while. There are enough reasonably healthy options that you can do this for a while. The world won’t end. Better yet, if you can afford it, eat out and let someone else do the work. The goal is to survive. You can get back to home cooking and optimal nutrition once that’s settled.
- The broken pedal on the Road Bike.
The Road Bike has been a litany of disaster lately. The crankarm continues to behave, but I somehow hosed up a pedal on its most recent ride. The little clippy binding part got flipped somehow. I’m pretty sure it’s repairable, but the idea of messing with it makes my head want to explode.Fix: I don’t know. New pedals, keep these as a backup pair? Just put MTB pedals on for now? Pay someone else to fix it? Just ride something else until I’m better? Normally, I’d go out and give it the old college try. Right now … I don’t know. I just don’t know.
Obviously, it could be worse. I am managing to get out of bed in the morning (after reading until my eyes bleed). I am feeling decent enough to understand that there’s humor in the fact that being unable to locate a working pen feels like a huge insurmountable problem. Today I took a bath.
I am finding motivation to do things that require minimal effort and minimal concentration. I did get out on the bike and pick up some groceries, though it was a much more difficult task than it should have been. I got easy food: packages of noodle things to which one needs only add water; steaks that are already thawed; 30-minute marinades; a couple of ham steaks; a thing of “Artisan Lettuce” (a concept that makes me giggle when I’m not depressed; right now, it just makes me angry).
I also got some Kroger brand Instant Breakfast stuff because eating in the morning has become a problem again, but either it tastes weird or my sense of taste is hosed. Or both.
Edit: So the packages of noodly things are quite good, if not 100% optimal nutritionally. They’re the “Bear Creek” brand, on sale this week at Kroger. I made the creamy chicken orecchiette kind last night and added a metric boatload of frozen peas — I love peas in noodly things — and the end product proved pretty tasty and pretty filling. I think I’m going to pick up a bunch more of these on my way to drop off the Tricross for its fall tune-up. Meanwhile, the Instant Breakfast stuff tasted weird because the milk has prematurely gone off, which I noticed this morning (I opted to eat some of the orecchiette for breakfast today instead). prefer almond milk anyway, so I’ll pick up some of that, too.
Today, the Tricross goes to the shop, in theory. Wednesday I plan to take Denis out for a mid-week date night, since he flies out on Thursday for Burning Man. There are people around if things go south for me while he’s away. Also the cat.
We’re doing a populaire this weekend (Sunday, I think?). It’s time to start thinking about fall gravel races and ‘cross (or not). I think I’m going to plan to do the local brevet series next year. The 200k should be no problem; I think the 300k will be acceptably doable; things will start to get harder at the 400k mark. Still, it would be really cool to get a 200, 300, 400, and 600 in in 2014.
The fact that I’m able to think about this stuff is a good sign.
Keep the rubber side down.
danseur ignoble 