I love the Olympics and I really love watching the Olympics.
Not in person- I've never done that. I blew the only chance I ever had to see an Olympic event in person out of sheer ignorance. In 1980 my father-in-law was on one of the Committees for the Lake Placid Winter Olympics and not only did he have event tickets - he had that rarest of all things, a pass to drive a car into Lake Placid and park. It was just a short hop from Ticonderoga to Lake Placid, and it is my recollection that he took advantage of both several times.
I don't know why he offered me the tickets - I was not "blood" and "low status" by his standards. Whenever he offered me a "cold one" for instance, it was usually Milwaukee's Finest, and not a Molson Brador- that was reserved for Bob or John, or for higher ranking company than me. But he did - 2 tickets to the Ice Dancing Finals. And I, stupidly and to my on-going regret, turned them down. I claimed I had papers to correct. That was true, but I always had papers to correct and they could have waited. The true reason was I had never heard of Ice Dancing and it didn't sound like a "real" Olympic event - why would I want to see that?
No, all my watching has been on TV, and every 4 years, I have been engrossed and riveted, openings to prelims, heats to finals, and award ceremonies to closing ceremonies. I could never get enough.
I loved it when the Winter and Summer Olympics were split out of the same year, so my wait was only two years from Games to Games. The TV coverage became better and more comprehensive and I loved that, too. But, it still wasn't enough. I guess my Type A personality extends to Olympics Watching, too.
I not only wanted to watch more, I wanted to watch more events. Sure I loved skating (including, it turns out, Ice Dancing) and gymnastics, swimming and track and field, but I wanted more. I wanted Team Handball, and Archery, Luge and obscure Nordic races. And I wanted to see the "Back of the Packers" from the other countries of the world, athletes like me who would never medal, but who were thrilled and proud to participate.
For the 1992 Barcelona Olympics, I was one of the few who actually bought the "Silver Package" of extra TV coverage offered by NBC through our cable company. I wanted to root for the obscure and the hopeful, but mostly what I got was a lot of boxing. I'm not opposed to boxing - as a kid I learned to box at my YMCA and I appreciate what it's like to hit and be hit, and I can get really excited by a good fight. But, I can see as much boxing as I want without having to wait 4 years.
But this year - finally - the Olympics and TV have been melded with the Internet! I can watch TV in the morning and in the evening. I can watch on NBC and MSNBC. And best of all - I can watch events on my computer - LIVE! It's wonderful.
AT 6 in the morning I've watched a prelim round of Women's Singles Badminton - England vs. Hong Kong. It was great! For those of you whose only experience with badminton is of the back yard or mandatory gym class kind - you ain't seen notin'! It's a fast and athletic game, filled with speed and grace, power and torgue, angles and touch. By the way, I've known this ever since 1970 when I was a waiter in a Howard Johnson's on South Road in Poughkeepsie - Millie, a personable and attractive "older" waitress of about 34 played competitively, and she set me straight about the sport.
So far, I've also watched fencing, field hockey, trap shooting, team handball (finally!),equestrian events and water polo. Did you know that men's water polo players often wear 2 bathing suits? It gets a little rough under the water, and it's not unusual for a player to have his suit grabbed and pulled right off. I learned this from our pediatrician - he used to play in Jamaica when he was younger.
I also watched soccer, basketball and swimming - I'm not opposed to the major sports. I like them , too. I am rooting for Michael Phelps and I hope he gets his 8 gold medals. But, I'm really rooting hard for Dara Torres - I know what it's like to be old and to go like hell for 50 meters in the water.
Here's a confession - sometimes I miss the announcers, especially when I don't know very much about the sport or the participants. I take the time to read the features on the website - there are lots of them and they are very comprehensive. But, I still don't know why the Italian fencer took off her helmet and complained after the South Korean woman scored a point. If it were basketball or baseball, an announcer would have let me know. I suppose I could always ask my daughter's roommate the next time I see her - she'll be the Captain of Boston College's fencing team in the fall.
Another great feature? If I missed it live, I can watch videos or photos whenever I have the time. There's a 52 minute video of highlights of the Opening Ceremony - I plan to make some room in my schedule to watch it. I found a pretty funny photo sequence of the Women's softball team goofing with President Bush, putting a chalk "Bird" hand imprint on the back of his shirt. He looks pretty relaxed, and was a good sport about it. By the way, he said the highlight of his 4 day stay at the Olympics was getting his picture taken with the men's and women's baseball teams. Good thing, too, since both sports will be eliminated in the 2012 games.
I'm pretty excited - there's still synchronized swimming, rhythmic gymnastics, modern pentathlon, and table tennis to go. This year they've added trampoline - I've got to check that out, too. If I click on the Video Control Room button on the left side of the screen, I can watch up to 4 events simultaneously - how can it get any better than that?
I'll be checking them all out on NBCOlympics.com. Click on the link and you can , too.
See you out there.
After My First Tri: Pinebush '06
Me & Coach Andrea - Armed and Dangerous!
Monday, August 11, 2008
Sunday, August 3, 2008
The Race
Two hundred yards. Two teams. Two swimmers per team. Two laps per swimmer, each swimmer alternating laps.
We were almost to the end of our last Stroke Improvement class, and this was Coach Aaron's final gift to us - a relay race. We were tired from the usual gamut of drills, and it was late, but this was a good idea, right? After all, we were all triathletes, and triathlons are races. So, let's figure out the teams and get to it!
Kelly and Sally are swimming without fins and they are the fastest - they can't be on the same team. Carol is swimming with long frogman fins and I am swimming with blue zoomers - we are the slower swimmers so we can't be on the same team. Carol is faster than me, and Kelly is faster than everyone else, so the teams should be Carol and Sally, and me and Kelly.
I want to be on Kelly's team - she's the best, and years of high school gym classes and neighborhood pickup games have taught me to size up the players and covet being on the team with the best. When you have been "blessed" with no talent and fewer skills, it's the only way to have a shot at winning.
Only this time, I am having second thoughts. I've been a triathlete all right, and I have competed in 8 tri's so far. But, because I am so slow, the only one I am ever competing with is myself, and no one else much cares whether I win or lose the competition with myself.
Kelly, on the other hand, is an athlete - a superb, competitive athlete, and she goes into races wanting to win, and she often does. Suppose I am on her team and we lose? Because of me? Kelly will say, "You did your best!" and "Good effort!", but she'll be disappointed. I'll decide that I'll risk it - I want to be on Kelly's team.
Kelly is faster than Sally. Carol is faster than me. Should be a good race.
Carol and I lead off. She is a bit a head of me, as I thought she would be. I am sloppy off the wall - no flip turns for either of us - and that ensures that I can't catch her coming back in, and she touches her partner first. I am not far behind and as soon as I touch her hand, Kelly drives off the wall and down the pool. She is really, really fast and she catches Sally, and has the lead on the way back in.
I swam my lap hard and I am standing in the shallow end of the pool, watching Kelly and gasping. Then it sinks in - in class, I always swim my "melt downs" - repetitive sprints - at a one-to-one ratio. That is, I sprint a lap in 45 seconds and then I rest for at least 45 seconds before sprinting again. Kelly always finishes her sprints in under 35 seconds. I am not going to be able to catch my breath by the time she comes in.
I am terrified of going hard into the deep end of the pool out of breath. I can't do it - won't try it. I tell Aaron I can't go. Gees, one lap in and I've screwed it up.
But Aaron asks Kelly if she can go again, and as soon as she figures out what's going on, she does! By this time, Carol is yards ahead of her, and kicking furiously. She beats Kelly back in, and touches. Sally knifes forward, arms churning.
By the time I start, Sally is five yards ahead. I'm pretty sure I can't catch her, but Kelly has swum her guts out and I go hard. I am sloppy off the wall - my suit has started to slip down my hips - and by the time I am around and kicking off, Sally is still five yards ahead. I hear Kelly cheering.
I picture Kelly's swift arm stoking in my head and I try to imitate her, cycling faster and faster. I shorten my kicks, and make them tight and strong, keeping my legs together. I am going faster, but my suit is starting to slide. I don't dare reach down to pull it up.
And then, a miracle - the five yards between me and Sally is down to three! By the middle of the pool I think, "I can catch her!" I put my face in the water and keep it there - breathing be damned. My lungs are screaming, but it's ok - I've done this in practice before and I know I can make it. I see the "T" at the end of the lane line, and then I am past Sally. I touch the wall and we've won!
I flop my arms over the edge of the pool, lean over and suck in the air. As soon as I can stand upright, I turn to Kelly and she high fives me. I tell her about almost losing my suit, and she tells her boys, who are watching, that there's almost been a full moon in the pool. They laugh - I guess it is pretty funny. I don't care, though - we've won.
I can tell from her expression and her exuberance and the sound of her voice that Kelly is very happy we have won. I feel like I have just taken a powerful narcotic. I can't believe how good I feel.
As soon as I catch my breath, Aaron has us all swimming cool down laps. He tells me I don't have to do them - he knows how tired I was after the race - but I'm on a high and there's no way I'm going to quit before I finish the workout.
As I climb out of the pool at the end of the laps, Kelly's husband Craig, who had been watching the class with their boys, comes over and says, "You were very strong in the pool tonight." This, from a superb athlete, who routinely wins races and triathlons. I am touched and the narcotics kick in again.
On this night, the stars and the planets aligned, and with the help of my friend and team mate Kelly the Quick, for one brief,ecstatic moment, I know what it is like to be and feel like a winner. It's amazing!
See you out there.
We were almost to the end of our last Stroke Improvement class, and this was Coach Aaron's final gift to us - a relay race. We were tired from the usual gamut of drills, and it was late, but this was a good idea, right? After all, we were all triathletes, and triathlons are races. So, let's figure out the teams and get to it!
Kelly and Sally are swimming without fins and they are the fastest - they can't be on the same team. Carol is swimming with long frogman fins and I am swimming with blue zoomers - we are the slower swimmers so we can't be on the same team. Carol is faster than me, and Kelly is faster than everyone else, so the teams should be Carol and Sally, and me and Kelly.
I want to be on Kelly's team - she's the best, and years of high school gym classes and neighborhood pickup games have taught me to size up the players and covet being on the team with the best. When you have been "blessed" with no talent and fewer skills, it's the only way to have a shot at winning.
Only this time, I am having second thoughts. I've been a triathlete all right, and I have competed in 8 tri's so far. But, because I am so slow, the only one I am ever competing with is myself, and no one else much cares whether I win or lose the competition with myself.
Kelly, on the other hand, is an athlete - a superb, competitive athlete, and she goes into races wanting to win, and she often does. Suppose I am on her team and we lose? Because of me? Kelly will say, "You did your best!" and "Good effort!", but she'll be disappointed. I'll decide that I'll risk it - I want to be on Kelly's team.
Kelly is faster than Sally. Carol is faster than me. Should be a good race.
Carol and I lead off. She is a bit a head of me, as I thought she would be. I am sloppy off the wall - no flip turns for either of us - and that ensures that I can't catch her coming back in, and she touches her partner first. I am not far behind and as soon as I touch her hand, Kelly drives off the wall and down the pool. She is really, really fast and she catches Sally, and has the lead on the way back in.
I swam my lap hard and I am standing in the shallow end of the pool, watching Kelly and gasping. Then it sinks in - in class, I always swim my "melt downs" - repetitive sprints - at a one-to-one ratio. That is, I sprint a lap in 45 seconds and then I rest for at least 45 seconds before sprinting again. Kelly always finishes her sprints in under 35 seconds. I am not going to be able to catch my breath by the time she comes in.
I am terrified of going hard into the deep end of the pool out of breath. I can't do it - won't try it. I tell Aaron I can't go. Gees, one lap in and I've screwed it up.
But Aaron asks Kelly if she can go again, and as soon as she figures out what's going on, she does! By this time, Carol is yards ahead of her, and kicking furiously. She beats Kelly back in, and touches. Sally knifes forward, arms churning.
By the time I start, Sally is five yards ahead. I'm pretty sure I can't catch her, but Kelly has swum her guts out and I go hard. I am sloppy off the wall - my suit has started to slip down my hips - and by the time I am around and kicking off, Sally is still five yards ahead. I hear Kelly cheering.
I picture Kelly's swift arm stoking in my head and I try to imitate her, cycling faster and faster. I shorten my kicks, and make them tight and strong, keeping my legs together. I am going faster, but my suit is starting to slide. I don't dare reach down to pull it up.
And then, a miracle - the five yards between me and Sally is down to three! By the middle of the pool I think, "I can catch her!" I put my face in the water and keep it there - breathing be damned. My lungs are screaming, but it's ok - I've done this in practice before and I know I can make it. I see the "T" at the end of the lane line, and then I am past Sally. I touch the wall and we've won!
I flop my arms over the edge of the pool, lean over and suck in the air. As soon as I can stand upright, I turn to Kelly and she high fives me. I tell her about almost losing my suit, and she tells her boys, who are watching, that there's almost been a full moon in the pool. They laugh - I guess it is pretty funny. I don't care, though - we've won.
I can tell from her expression and her exuberance and the sound of her voice that Kelly is very happy we have won. I feel like I have just taken a powerful narcotic. I can't believe how good I feel.
As soon as I catch my breath, Aaron has us all swimming cool down laps. He tells me I don't have to do them - he knows how tired I was after the race - but I'm on a high and there's no way I'm going to quit before I finish the workout.
As I climb out of the pool at the end of the laps, Kelly's husband Craig, who had been watching the class with their boys, comes over and says, "You were very strong in the pool tonight." This, from a superb athlete, who routinely wins races and triathlons. I am touched and the narcotics kick in again.
On this night, the stars and the planets aligned, and with the help of my friend and team mate Kelly the Quick, for one brief,ecstatic moment, I know what it is like to be and feel like a winner. It's amazing!
See you out there.
RAGBRAI 2009: I've Decided to Do It - Now What?
Ok - as I mentioned in my previous entry, with a little prompting from my brother-in-law Bob, I've decided to spend 7 days next summer riding my bike 470 miles across the state of Iowa. What now?
As the reality set in, I began to think about things like, "How do I get there?" "How do I get my bike there?" "What will I eat?" "Where do I sleep?" and "With 10,000 other people there, including a lot of women, just how long are those potty lines going to be?"
For me, the first step was " Google Everything Related to RAGBRAI"
I started with the Official RAGBRAI Website, which was pretty informative.
Then I went to the RAGBRAI entry in Wikipedia,which was interesting and which lead me to
R. Bruhn's Best and Worst of RAGBRAI®
Mr. Bruhn has been doing RAGBRAI for a number of years, and each year he does a wonderful, wacky, irreverent and very funny Best and Worst of Retrospective, complete with pictures, narratives, observations and rants.
I particularly enjoyed R. Bruhn's Best and Worst of RAGBRAI® XXX, 2002, which gives a RAGBRAI primer and explains some of the basics, like
"What is RAGBRAI, anyway?"; and
"How big is RAGBRAI, anyway?" and
"If RAGBRAI is so wacky and so much fun, how can it possibly be held in conservative, Republican Iowa? Any way?"
He also explains about such essentials as "SAG"; the various strategies for getting your clothes and stuff across Iowa, including signing on with a charter outfit; the RAGBRAI concept of teams; and the all important "kybo"!
I also enjoyed R. Bruhn’s Best and Worst of RAGBRAI® XXXV, 2007
As I mentioned, in addition to being informative, he is funny , very irreverent, and includes some definitely "R"- rated pictures to illustrate his points.
In short, if you'd like an insider's amusing view of RAGBRAI, check him out.
By the way, Bob's answer to "How do I get my clothes and stuff across Iowa?" is
"Rent a huge RV and find someone to drive it!"
See you out there.
As the reality set in, I began to think about things like, "How do I get there?" "How do I get my bike there?" "What will I eat?" "Where do I sleep?" and "With 10,000 other people there, including a lot of women, just how long are those potty lines going to be?"
For me, the first step was " Google Everything Related to RAGBRAI"
I started with the Official RAGBRAI Website, which was pretty informative.
Then I went to the RAGBRAI entry in Wikipedia,which was interesting and which lead me to
R. Bruhn's Best and Worst of RAGBRAI®
Mr. Bruhn has been doing RAGBRAI for a number of years, and each year he does a wonderful, wacky, irreverent and very funny Best and Worst of Retrospective, complete with pictures, narratives, observations and rants.
I particularly enjoyed R. Bruhn's Best and Worst of RAGBRAI® XXX, 2002, which gives a RAGBRAI primer and explains some of the basics, like
"What is RAGBRAI, anyway?"; and
"How big is RAGBRAI, anyway?" and
"If RAGBRAI is so wacky and so much fun, how can it possibly be held in conservative, Republican Iowa? Any way?"
He also explains about such essentials as "SAG"; the various strategies for getting your clothes and stuff across Iowa, including signing on with a charter outfit; the RAGBRAI concept of teams; and the all important "kybo"!
I also enjoyed R. Bruhn’s Best and Worst of RAGBRAI® XXXV, 2007
As I mentioned, in addition to being informative, he is funny , very irreverent, and includes some definitely "R"- rated pictures to illustrate his points.
In short, if you'd like an insider's amusing view of RAGBRAI, check him out.
By the way, Bob's answer to "How do I get my clothes and stuff across Iowa?" is
"Rent a huge RV and find someone to drive it!"
See you out there.
Friday, August 1, 2008
RAGBRAI 2009
A week or so ago my brother-in-law emailed me - he is planning to do RAGBRAI next year, and wondered if I might be interested in going along for the ride, so to speak. RAGBRAI is sponsored annually by the Des Moines Register and stands for the Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa.
Register Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa
Here's the deal-eo: for the small fee of $125 you can join 8,500 like-minded souls some place on the western border of Iowa and over 7 days and 6 nights, ride clean across the state, about 472 miles, and dip your front tire in the Mississippi River. That averages out to about 68 miles per day. Of course, for a small additional fee, on one of those days the organizers will map out a Century ride, just in case you are looking for something a little more challenging.
What do you get for your fee? From the website: "The cost includes wristbands, route marking signage, baggage transportation, camping accommodations, discounts, sag wagon services, emergency medical services, traffic control, souvenir patch, daily route maps, and entries into drawing for a free bike for riders and other prizes for support vehicle drivers."
In other words, after 6 hours on a hard bicycle seat, you get to spend the next 8 sleeping in a tent on the hard ground. But you do get a souvenir patch!
Bob plans to ride this on his tandem bike and figures he can get his 12 year old son Mike to go along with him. You might remember Bob and Mike from the entry I did on May 30 about their family pass time - Full Contact Swimming Pool Basketball.
I figure Bob came up with this idea while spinning on his exercise bike, recovering from knee replacement surgery - under the influence of some powerful narcotic pain killer.
Funny thing is, I'm intrigued by the idea and I have started researching it. Apparently I don't need a powerful narcotic to induce hallucinations. Actually, I've been thinking about doing a RAGBRAI ever since I first heard about it 15 years ago. Seems like the perfect way to spend a summer week if you're a Type-A personality with masochistic tendencies, which I am.
Of course, I am worried about one thing. As you know, when I ramped up my running mileage, I got a stress fracture, which means I got a crack in one of the bones in my foot. As I spend more and more time on a bike seat training for this event, will I get a - never mind.
Here are some pictures I found on the web of a recent RAGBRAI
I'm telling everyone here that I'm going to do this ride for the scenery:
Local Scenery
And I'm telling everyone here that I'm doing this ride for the local characters:
Local Characters
But what I'm really hoping to see on this ride is some local "color":
Local Color
See you out there.
Register Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa
Here's the deal-eo: for the small fee of $125 you can join 8,500 like-minded souls some place on the western border of Iowa and over 7 days and 6 nights, ride clean across the state, about 472 miles, and dip your front tire in the Mississippi River. That averages out to about 68 miles per day. Of course, for a small additional fee, on one of those days the organizers will map out a Century ride, just in case you are looking for something a little more challenging.
What do you get for your fee? From the website: "The cost includes wristbands, route marking signage, baggage transportation, camping accommodations, discounts, sag wagon services, emergency medical services, traffic control, souvenir patch, daily route maps, and entries into drawing for a free bike for riders and other prizes for support vehicle drivers."
In other words, after 6 hours on a hard bicycle seat, you get to spend the next 8 sleeping in a tent on the hard ground. But you do get a souvenir patch!
Bob plans to ride this on his tandem bike and figures he can get his 12 year old son Mike to go along with him. You might remember Bob and Mike from the entry I did on May 30 about their family pass time - Full Contact Swimming Pool Basketball.
I figure Bob came up with this idea while spinning on his exercise bike, recovering from knee replacement surgery - under the influence of some powerful narcotic pain killer.
Funny thing is, I'm intrigued by the idea and I have started researching it. Apparently I don't need a powerful narcotic to induce hallucinations. Actually, I've been thinking about doing a RAGBRAI ever since I first heard about it 15 years ago. Seems like the perfect way to spend a summer week if you're a Type-A personality with masochistic tendencies, which I am.
Of course, I am worried about one thing. As you know, when I ramped up my running mileage, I got a stress fracture, which means I got a crack in one of the bones in my foot. As I spend more and more time on a bike seat training for this event, will I get a - never mind.
Here are some pictures I found on the web of a recent RAGBRAI
I'm telling everyone here that I'm going to do this ride for the scenery:
Local Scenery
And I'm telling everyone here that I'm doing this ride for the local characters:
Local Characters
But what I'm really hoping to see on this ride is some local "color":
Local Color
See you out there.
Arriba la loma EMPINADA! or Marcy, Marcy, Marcy
My friend Milt is a 45'er - that means he's climbed 45 of the 46 highest peaks in New York State and needs just one more - Mt. Marcy, the highest of them all - to become an Adirondack 46er. He's invited his friends and hiking buddies, including me, to join him for his joyous ascent on, hopefully, August 16.
I plan to join him for the hike and celebration because it's quite an accomplishment. I know, because after 7 long years and a lot of blood, sweat (a tremendous amount of sweat), tears and other bodily fluids, I became a 46er in September, 2005. Milt helped me quite a bit to reach that goal, joining me for some really long, tough hikes, including Panther, Santanoni, Seward, Donaldson, Emmons and the descent of Redfield.
I met Milt and his son Dwight on top of Redfield. I had climbed up the mountain with my son Jon, my friend Chili Willie and his son Adam. I went up at my usually slow, plodding pace. My companions noted that every time we (I) stopped to rest, we caught up with the party ahead of us. They deduced, correctly, that at least one person in that party was probably climbing at the same pace as I was, which turned out to be correct.
My companions, of course, reached the top of Redfield before I did, and started talking to the party ahead of us. When I reached the top, they informed me that they had engineered a swap - they were taking the Assistant Scoutmaster from the other group, the faster hiker, and I would be joining Milt - the person hiking more or less at my pace - and his son Dwight. The faster hikers in my party wanted to climb down Redfield and then up and down Cliff, the next mountain over, and they knew they couldn't get that done before sundown with me in the group. They couldn't leave me there by myself, so they swapped me for the faster hiker. Kind of like a winning baseball team at the trade deadline, going out and getting a player to help them get over the top, so to speak. And no one had to clear waivers.
By the way, Dwight was perfectly capable of staying with the faster hikers, but he chose to stay with his dad. Turns out Dwight was going to spend the next 5 days out in the mountains by himself, while Milt was going to go home at the end of the hike, so he wanted to spend a little more time with his dad.
So, that's how I met Milt and Dwight. The hike down was fun - it's great to hike with people who go at your rate. Lots of good conversation, and no guilt about hiking too slowly and holding up the progress of the faster hikers.
I haven't been in the mountains in a couple of years, and although I have been biking and swimming and jogging, none of those are really climbing muscles. So, in preparation for joining Milt in two weeks, I have started doing the stairs at work - 24 flights Tuesday, and 32 flights yesterday, taken 16 flights at a time. Not exactly the 3,000 feet I'll have to do to get up Marcy, but at least my legs should be in good enough shape so that I can keep up with Milt - and so that he won't be tempted to engineer a swap of his own.
See you out there.
I plan to join him for the hike and celebration because it's quite an accomplishment. I know, because after 7 long years and a lot of blood, sweat (a tremendous amount of sweat), tears and other bodily fluids, I became a 46er in September, 2005. Milt helped me quite a bit to reach that goal, joining me for some really long, tough hikes, including Panther, Santanoni, Seward, Donaldson, Emmons and the descent of Redfield.
I met Milt and his son Dwight on top of Redfield. I had climbed up the mountain with my son Jon, my friend Chili Willie and his son Adam. I went up at my usually slow, plodding pace. My companions noted that every time we (I) stopped to rest, we caught up with the party ahead of us. They deduced, correctly, that at least one person in that party was probably climbing at the same pace as I was, which turned out to be correct.
My companions, of course, reached the top of Redfield before I did, and started talking to the party ahead of us. When I reached the top, they informed me that they had engineered a swap - they were taking the Assistant Scoutmaster from the other group, the faster hiker, and I would be joining Milt - the person hiking more or less at my pace - and his son Dwight. The faster hikers in my party wanted to climb down Redfield and then up and down Cliff, the next mountain over, and they knew they couldn't get that done before sundown with me in the group. They couldn't leave me there by myself, so they swapped me for the faster hiker. Kind of like a winning baseball team at the trade deadline, going out and getting a player to help them get over the top, so to speak. And no one had to clear waivers.
By the way, Dwight was perfectly capable of staying with the faster hikers, but he chose to stay with his dad. Turns out Dwight was going to spend the next 5 days out in the mountains by himself, while Milt was going to go home at the end of the hike, so he wanted to spend a little more time with his dad.
So, that's how I met Milt and Dwight. The hike down was fun - it's great to hike with people who go at your rate. Lots of good conversation, and no guilt about hiking too slowly and holding up the progress of the faster hikers.
I haven't been in the mountains in a couple of years, and although I have been biking and swimming and jogging, none of those are really climbing muscles. So, in preparation for joining Milt in two weeks, I have started doing the stairs at work - 24 flights Tuesday, and 32 flights yesterday, taken 16 flights at a time. Not exactly the 3,000 feet I'll have to do to get up Marcy, but at least my legs should be in good enough shape so that I can keep up with Milt - and so that he won't be tempted to engineer a swap of his own.
See you out there.
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