Michael: Inspiration

Light brown grasshopper
Doesn’t frighten me anymore.
Just don’t jump near me.

Saturday, May 28, 2016

Kimme inspires me.

Just the other morning she came downstairs and asked me what I’d do if I had an extra $5,000. Immediately thoughts of what road bike I’d get for my 60th birthday popped into my head. Would I get the Focus Izalco Max Disc or the Pinerello F8 Disc? I have a Focus and I really like it. Bang for the buck, it’s probably the better bike. The Pinerello no doubt is much more capable of a performer than I am. But I’ve always thought that about most Pinerello riders. They’re like 70 year old Lamborghini drivers. They can afford the best so they buy it. Damned snobs. But damned, I understand the attraction and I guess every once in a while I’ve wanted to be one of those nose in the air pricks myself.

I told her I wasn’t sure and asked her what she’d do.

She said she’d give half to buy one of the natives a nice sewing machine.

Similarly, while she’s reading about the chakras and trying to improve her spirit, I’m glimpsing at Sport’s Illustrated swimsuit auditions.

She’s good. I should strive to be so good. I’m going to have to really focus and use her as inspiration to try and do some good while she’s working in the states next month.

Michael: Another One of Those Days

The black winged butterflies
With turquoise decorations
Lie across the road.

Friday, May 27, 2016

Sometimes it’s me. Sometimes it’s the ride. And every once in a while it’s other people and other creatures. Yesterday it was dawn of the living that lifted my spirits and made it a great day to be out there in the saddle.

The road from Cuesta de Piedra to Porterillos is tough, beautiful and very lightly trafficked. You can easily spend an hour on it and only see 5 cars, so when I started to get out of the saddle to crank up the first steep climb, I was surprised when the first car coming toward me slowed to say something to me in Spanish. I have no idea what he said but it ended with the word “amigo” and from his demeanor it seems he was trying to encourage me. That put a smile on my face and made the climb a bit easier.

To top it off, pardon the pun, at the top of the hill was a man enjoying the quiet morning in his wheelchair who gave me a very grand two thumbs up.
Wow, maybe today’s ride isn’t going to be as much of a grind as I felt it was going to be.

Heck, even the cows lying in the field appeared to be giving me the two horns up. Thanks bovines.

On my return home I was fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of a tayra; a weasel like creature that looks like a gigantic jet black pipe cleaner. This one was sprinting across the road and fully outstretched must have been at least 5 ft. long. Haven’t seen one of those buggers in about a year. Anytime I see a wild animal I see it has a sign of good fortune. And this guy I saw pretty up close and personal, so that was pretty cool.

Right as I reached home there were two local riders that gave me some Panamanian whistle that I assume is like the motorcycle peace sign I use to give other riders when I was a brother cyclist in the states. Note to self: figure how to whistle, then learn that whistle so I don’t come across as some nose in the air foreigner.

Even off the bike, as I was walking the dirt road to our casita, the greetings weren’t over as Eduardo, the happiest neighbor on earth, waved good day  as he slowly drove his old blue van by.

Wow, yesterday I had a great ride. Thanks everybody.

Michael: A Little Loser

The elephant sized
Deep green leaves shed raindrops like
Tears from a bridesmaid.

Thursday, May 26, 2016

Like many people I’d like to lose a little weight. It’s not necessary. I’m at 145 lbs at 13% body fat which is perfectly acceptable. But one of my goals while we’re here in Panama is to train so that I can return to the states in two years and blitz through races so that people will stop and gaze off into the distance and say, “Who was that masked skinny man?”

Ideally in two years when I’m 60 I’d like to be at 11% body fat. That’s less weight to push up a hill. That I expect will lead to improved performance in both trail and road races. Sounds reasonable. Sounds like a plan.

Only it’s turning out not to be that easy and this is where again I feel I may be butting my head up against a very hard age unfriendly wall. At 58, losing just a pinch of fat seems to be extraordinarily difficult. Even after doing some Herculean task like the John Muir Trail in a week, it doesn’t take long for my body to recalibrate to the 145 lbs and 13% body fat that it wants me to be content with.

But I’m not willing to give up just yet. Exactly how or if I can outsmart or outwork my body to figure out how to get it sacrifice just a smidgen of fat, I’m not sure of yet. But what I thought would be a very manageable task is turning out to be a Sisyphean endeavor.

And speaking of Sisyphus. I bet at 60, even after pushing that rock up the hill everyday, he was still at more than 11% body fat.

Michael: Soltero

Afternoon lightening
Doesn’t seem as ominous
As a midnight strike.

Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Did I forget to mention that Kimme and I are now single? According to Panama we’ve been single ever since we moved here.

I had just presumed we were married, but we found out otherwise when we were going over our papers to process our residency status with our lawyer last week. Our lawyer seemed to shrug it off as no big deal. Said it was standard procedure and that we could register as married later after we get our E-Cedulas; our new permanent resident visas. Great, more paperwork and legal fees.

Kimme and I don’t feel this affects our commitment to each other in anyway and at the moment, since we don’t own land or a house,  there’s no rush to change our status. It does seem a bit strange though and I’m not sure which system I prefer; the anonymity of my status on U.S. identification or a clearly indicated married or single status that will be on my Panamanian I.D.
Being classified as “Soltero” though does make me feel like I’m inadvertently trying to hide something.

Michael: The Sweatshop

The ridge cuts the clouds
Like a knife through an old ghost’s
Gray tattered fingers.

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

In Los Angeles Kimme converted our small living room into a mini-sweatshop. It was dark and cramped and she often worked very long hours so she did a pretty top notch job of recreating Asian factory working conditions right here in the good old U.S. of A.

For the past year and a half she hasn’t worked. It’s not that she hasn’t wanted to, but her machines were in storage in L.A. Thankfully, her income isn’t essential here like it was in Los Angeles. But that doesn’t mean her working and contributing to our funds wouldn’t be appreciated. And beside that, she wants to create and work. And for those reasons she’s decided to take the sweatshop experience one little step further and she’s well on her way to creating a micro sweatshop here in an even tinier bedroom than the living room she worked out of in the states.

It’ll be very interesting to see not only what she produces here, but how she’ll arrange her working schedule. Without the need to constantly meet a demand or punch the clock, how will she structure her time? I’m not only interested as a loving spouse that doesn’t want to see her fall into the habit over-working herself again, but I’m hoping she’ll create a schedule that I could learn from when I decide to get off my lazy duff and start creating again myself.

Michael: Beauty Isn't in This Eye

Light blue flying twigs
The damsel fly’s silent flight
Is a child’s delight.

Monday, May 23, 2016

What’s the difference between a stye and a chalazia? Heck, I didn’t know, or wanted to know, until about two months ago.

About every 5 years or so I’ll get a pretty adolescent boy cool in a gross kind of way eye infection. If it’s really up to snuff while I sleep it’ll puss enough to seal both of my eyes closed with coagulated puss. Then I have to pry my eyes open by hand. After a few days of crying green oozy tears, my eyes clear up and I’ll return to my usual human form.

About two months ago I saw a slight swelling in my left eye develop and I thought here we go again. But I was wrong. Instead of an infection I was developing a stye that would shortly transform into a chalazia that has just now extinguished itself.

From the google references, a stye is a bacterial infection of an oil gland in the eyelid. It looked like a pimple and I thought it could be popped like one, but google advised against it. Give it a week, I was advised, and it should go away by itself. It did, but for a week I had to live with this third mini white Martian eye sitting on my eye lid. Again, kind of cool in an juvenile boy gross kind of way.

But instead of completely going away it transformed itself into a chalazia, which is simply a blocked oil gland minus the bacterial infection. It was just a small red swelling that really wasn’t very noticeable. That took two months to subside.

Do I prefer the gross but quickly subsiding infection or the smaller but longer lasting stye/chalazia combo?

That’s a toss up that I’ll just let age and my changing body decide for me.

Michael: Consessions

The green corridor
That ascends from the ocean
To home is wicked.

Sunday, May 22, 2016

When I first stopped teaching I thought without work to fatigue me I’d become an age group athlete dynamo. With plenty of time to rest in between hard efforts, I’d be able to increase both the endurance and intensity of my workouts. But it’s not quite working out that way and that’s a little frustrating.

In fact, as a concession to my body’s needs, I’m actually working out a little less. I feel great, am injury free, enjoy getting out there and definitely want to make the most of what I can do, but I do feel a little deceived by the American “can do” spirit. The truth is if I tried to do it all, all out every time out, I’d run myself into the ground and wouldn’t be able to do much of anything.

Sadly or not, life requires some concessions, which requires intelligent choices. I’m fighting the feeling that’s a defeatist attitude and trying to convince myself it’s a sign of pragmatic wisdom.