For the month of January, 2013, I’ve logged 133 miles over the course of 10 hours (that excludes a few very, very short trips – from one end of campus to the other, for example).
I’m not sure I logged 133 miles in the entire month of January last year (though I wasn’t keeping records as effectively, at that point). I can say with reasonable certainty that there’s no way I knocked out 133 miles in the first nine days of the month. In fact, I can say that I haven’t done that anywhere often enough in the past few years, and that I hope this bodes well for 2013 and my training schedule.
Right now, I’m on track for this year’s January 500 challenge (at the beginning of this week, I wasn’t, but I wasn’t worried about it; I wasn’t so far behind as to make catching up a problem). I’m going to try to take full advantage of the unseasonably pleasant weather we’re experiencing this week to get well ahead of the curve against the possibility of inclement weather later in the month – though I plan to make use of my Snow Studs to make sure I keep rolling out the school commutes if things do take a turn for the icy.
All this January riding should mean (in theory) that I’ll have my waterfowls in a linear array come March. Between that and the possession of a slick new gravel-friendly bike, I hope to actually do something worth writing home about in the Death March … like finish. For reals, people.
Financial constraints may mean my racing plans will be somewhat truncated this year, but I can focus on doing larger non-race rides instead if need be. We have a number of good “Tour of Whatever” non-races (I call them non-races in part because I’m pretty sure that every single one, in its brochure, explicitly states, “This is not a race…”) around here, and I have yet to do a single one.
Everyone on earth has told me to do the Old Kentucky Home Tour, so I will try to fit that in this year, unless if conflicts with Burning Man, which I’m pretty sure we’ll find a way to do even if it means selling our kidneys* (surely we could get more than the price of a couple Burning Man tickets for one of my beautiful, pristine, constantly-watered kidneys; I am not letting Denis sell his after the kidney stone incident anyway).
School is off and running and going well. I’m taking Finite Math, Behavioural Neuroscience (obviously, this is an introductory survey kind of course), Introduction to Behavioural Analysis, Creative Writing, and — of course — Organ, this time at the 300 level (THINGZ R GETTIN SRS!!!). This semester I’ll be working on a number of repertory pieces from different periods of musical history — thus, one Early, one Baroque, one Classical, and one Romantic — as well as some other stuff. I’m looking forward to it, of course My Baroque piece, perhaps unsurprisingly, is more Bach. Huzzah! I <3 Bach.
For what it’s worth, I read music a heck of a lot better than I used to. I used to be pretty great at reading a single line at a time, especially if it was in the treble clef. I’m now pretty comfortable “sloshing” my way through pieces involving three lines of music (“sloshing” is what we call the quick read-through in which mistakes are inevitable).
It’s really good to learn to be comfortable with screwing up and being wrong. This is a skill I’ve only developed in the past couple of years, but I suspect it’s one of the most useful skills a person can acquire. When you’re not afraid to screw up, you’re not afraid to reach beyond your grasp, to borrow the essence of an aphorism. Reaching beyond your grasp — signing up for rides you don’t know you can do, trying to hammer a big gear up that one hill, attempting a piece of music that’s harder by a big leap than anything else you’ve played — is how you grow.
I think I’m starting to get the hang of it.
The Fearsome Fuji On The Bus Back To Louisville
*Notice that I do not suggest selling a bike, even though I could arguably sell either the Fearsome Fuji or the Tenacious Tricross for more than enough to cover the two tickets.