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Had another night of vivid dreams, most of which I've forgotten by this point. I do remember having a rather heated discussion with an Israeli general. He was speaking in his native language and I was speaking in English. At one point I had to stop and laugh because not only could I not understand a word he was saying, but the subtitles that I could see near the bottom of my vision were also in his language!
Marathon day. Woke up at 6:30 which is monumental (for me). Today we find out if the extra layers I purchased last night will be enough for the 38 degree morning weather. Decide to give myself the advantage of being somewhat awake by shooting an espresso before jumping out the door. The group that chose to ride to the start point (instead of get on a shuttle bus) was guestimated to be 10 of our 78 riders but there were a lot of surprise Manhattan riders that came over the Brooklyn bridge so we had more like 40. Three of the BVF guys were there.
So many heartwarming stories. The achilles group starts the marathon first and contains people missing arms and legs and some with debilitating diseases. Most would finish and it's very inspiring.
The wheelchairs were not as fast as I expected so we had no problems handling our duties. ING set up 'cheering stations' along the way filled with people wearing orange ponchos. They, as one would hope, were very easily provoked into a cheering frenzy. We led the wheelchairs by about 50 yards and signaled their approach by blowing traffic whistles. As soon as the cheering stations heard the call they were on their feet waving and hooting.
The course was very well marked so that took care of my other concern: getting lost and taking the wheelchairs with me. Not only did this not happen but a few first-time cyclists and I also got to give them some guidance so they didn't miss any important turns.
Lots of bands on the course and a very interesting tour of culture: they had jam bands in Brooklyn, hard rap in the Bronx, and top 40 in Manhattan. Even though we spent all of 8 blocks or so there, we did get acknowledgment as we came off the Queensborogh bridge: 'welcome to the Bronx' said a confident-sounding DJ.
Wheelchairs do draft like cyclists and it's cool to watch. It also makes it a little challenging to have two bikes covering each wheelchair because bikes take up more space on the road.
After finishing up and showering CL and I used my 'incidental expense' money to buy some homemade goodness from Amy's bread and walk around for the day. We watched some of the marathon and walked around the park. I kept my volunteer course credential on.
The city is overrun with tourists surrounding the marathon and everyone wants to see a movie tonight. Luckily everyone wants to see Borat (shows are all selling out) so we decided to see 'Running with scissors' which was a much darker comedy than expected. About a dozen people walked out. A drunk homeless man also made it into the movie. He began by laying his jacket on the floor and setting up a camp and talking to himself. When he was approached my the staff he bellowed 'I'm not leaving' he was talked into taking a seat and watching the movie, which he did for about 15 min. Then he was up again in the aisle boxing with an imaginary foe.
Woke up early for a group ride in preparation for the marathon tomorrow. As I was getting my riding gear together CL partially awoke and told me she had a dream that she was trying to pick out warm socks for me because I needed warmer ones but didn't know what kind to get, and besides, it was already too late because I was half way through my ride. I laughed and said that I knew I needed better socks like I, too, knew what was going to happen on my ride. I wasn't worried, though because I knew I wasn't going to lose any toes.
I thought I might wear my camping liner socks because they are much taller than my other socks and not too bulky. They overlapped my tights pretty well and I figured that would keep me warm. Similarly my fleece-lined winter jersey treated me pretty well in the past and I had no reason to think it would do anything but that today.
Here is the thing about riding a bike in the winter: you still move quickly. There is also still air that you bike through. Same air, but much colder. Your cloths may be warm, but if they don't block the wind they do no good whatsoever. So my liner socks, racing shoes, and jersey ended up being nothing more than expensive 32 degree a/c vents.
I fought into the wind all the way to what I thought was the meeting point and despite a cadence of right around 100 all the way there I was cold. Very cold. Sine nobody was there I decided to ride up to the bike shop on the east side of central park to get some shoe covers but they weren't open. I knew I wasn't going to make it the 15 miles back like this and real men don't take the subway in such cases (I had left my metrocard at home anyway...). So I looked around and took a tip from a Tour De France I saw years ago. I remember seeing fans at the top of mountain stages handing out newspapers to cyclists after making a climb and preparing for the decent. At altitude the air is very cold and these guys would be getting blasted by 60mph freezing cold wind for 20 minutes so they'd stuff the front of their jerseys with the newspaper to block the wind and stay warm. I grabbed a free Metro NY from one of the little orange boxes on the corner and tore off a half page to stuff in each shoe and two pages for my jersey. I rode back to the starting point and the newspapers worked like a charm. I basked in the sun to let my black clothes soak up some warmth while I waited. And waited.
Later in the day after a warm shower and a nap realized that I had confused the word "boathouse" and went to the boathouse on the west side pier not the boathouse in Central Park, which was also on 73rd street, but further inland. Probably a good thing as I used my extra time to pay a visit to my local bike shop and load up on gear to help me survive the ride tomorrow, which would be under the same weather conditions.
Seems to me that fashion, in large part, exists due to younger people's inexperience and adhd. They need to dress themselves up not just to differentiate themselves from adults (who tend to steer clear of the newest crazes), but also to keep themselves looking fresh and new for each other b/c their own natural beauty would become old and boring in short order. I mean seriously, we figured out how to follow the natural contours of our bodies and make each other look really good to each other centuries ago but we just can't stop messing with it.
I had one of those moments of realization the other day about my bones. usually the division between the mechanics of our body and our experience is protected by a layer of familiarity and fat/muscle. I was feeling the elbow joint in my left arm and I could trace the shape perfectly and actually picture my arm bones lying there on the table.