Random wandering around Austin

Just a few pics from a recent bike ride around Austin...

And he's gone...

Theater Guy is now gone. After one week, the show is moving on to Denver, CO for a two-week engagement. I'd like to think I sent him off with a nice little "Thanks for visiting Texas!" farewell.

This past weekend was rather crazy busy. The Hill Country Ride for AIDS was this past Saturday, so getting all prepped and ready for that took some doing, and then there was, of course, actually riding the ride. So my time spent with Theater Guy was a little limited. I had hoped to get together with him on Saturday night, but after getting up at 5:00am on Saturday morning and riding 65 miles in the Texas Hill Country, I just didn't have the energy. So, after a massive amount of sleep on Saturday night and a nice yoga and pilates workshop on Sunday morning, we got together Sunday evening for a farewell... ummm... thingy.

As we walked into his hotel downtown I commented that it had been a while since I had been in that particular hotel. Immediately I felt a little weird for saying that. I mean, I had been in that hotel for very above-the-waist reasons. Seriously!! Well, okay. Let's face it. For some very below-the-waist reasons as well. He just laughed. It's always nice when two people really understand the interpersonal dynamics in which they find themselves.

And so we ultimately found ourselves at the end of our liaison. Which was fine. As a friend said to me as I was heading off to meet up with Theater Guy, "He's here for one week. You're leaving in less than four months. This is PER-fect."

True. Very, very true.

I was not expecting this

This is what I ran into the other day while cycling around South Austin. In the front yard? Hrmmmm, I woulda thought that a goat belonged in the back yard.

I had half a Tic-tac three days ago

Cleanse [klenz] verb, cleansed, cleansing.

Verb (used with object)

1. to make clean.

2. to remove by or as if by cleaning.

Verb (used without object)

3. to become clean.

I started a 9-day cleanse this week. First two days were nothing but this magical elixir four times a day and lots and lots of water. No food, no drinking. All total, I consumed less than 400 calories for these two days while still maintaining normal physical fitness regimen. By the end of the second day I was about to gnaw off my left arm I was so hungry, but I made it through.

Starting on the third day, I switched to a magical shake several times a day which has increased my caloric intake to just under 900 calories. Has this impacted my physical activity? Not one bit. I'm still cycling everywhere, hitting the gym, running several times a week, and getting in as much yoga as I can. The result? Well, I am starting my fourth day of the cleanse now and I have already lost 7 lbs. From the right places? Perhaps. The abs seem to be starting their spring rise to the surface. I'm not sure, however, if this whole thing is having much impact on the extra bits on the side.

But maybe it is. Today is the beginning of Day 4, and I have several events, fundraisers, and parties this weekend that might make it challenging to stay the course. Yet with such good results within such a short time, I'm gonna try my best. And, watching drunk people while sober can be a fun spectator event.

Vanity, Cary. Cary, Vanity. Oh, you've already met!

Lake Season is fast approaching here in Central Texas. The weather is getting warmer, the Bluebonnets and Indian Paintbrush are starting to sprout, and the boys are starting to run around town shirtless. What does all this mean? Well, it means that Cary is busy getting his body ready for Lake Season. Not only am I running in the Capitol 10K and riding in the Hill Country Ride for AIDS, which are requiring a bit of training in and of themselves, I'm increasing my gym time, decreasing my eating, increasing my yoga, and decreasing my drinking. Sorry to make your head spin with all those ups and downs... and up and down... and spinning around... Oooooh, that makes me think about...

nevermind...

Since this is likely to be my last Summer in Austin for some time I figured it best to ensure that I am looking as good as possible for all the limited-clothing hot weather that Austin serves up so well. "How's it going?" you ask. Well, not all that well. I mean, the shoulders are definitely responding to the routines. As are my arms, my legs, my chest, and my butt (which I think *was* starting to get a little smaller, much to my dismay). But... my mid-section is standing there, arms crossed, sticking its tongue out at me, essentially going, "pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbtttt!!!!"

I am not a happy camper. Now, the cum-gutters are developing nicely, but the rest is just so... BLARGH!!!! I'm not sure what else to do. Here's my basic weekly routine:

Cycling to work (15 mile RT): 5x/wk

Running (4+ miles): 3x/wk

Weight training: 2x/wk

Teaching yoga classes: 5x/wk

Taking yoga classes: 3x/wk

Training rides (40+ miles): 1x/wk

Since my weight is staying pretty steady and I can tell my muscle mass is increasing, it follows that my amount of body fat is decreasing, but just not from where I want it to decrease. People in the running group with which I've been running lately have been cajoling me to run with my shirt off, and I keep brushing them aside, insisting that my body is not ready for that just yet. However, if I can't get my body to a point where I feel comfortable doing that with all the work I've been doing lately, I'm just gonna go the other direction and start downing Bon-Bons, pizza, Tex-Mex, and bags and bags of boxed wine. Yeah, you heard me. Boxed wine!!!

Hill Country Ride for AIDS

It's been a few years since I started riding my bike as my main mode of transportation around town. Since making this switch, there has been an event in which I've long wanted to participate. The Hill Country Ride for AIDS. It is an annual cycling event that rolls through the beautiful central Texas Hill Country where riders and volunteers raise money for life saving support for thousands of Central Texans living with HIV/AIDS. However, since I work for the legislature, during years of the legislative session, I have always been precluded from riding. Yet, with this being my last year in Austin, for the foreseeable future, I figured I need to get with it and finally ride.

So, I'm all registered. I'm riding with a team of fun guys and have my personal fundraising goal. Now I just need to kick my training into gear. After talking with my riding partner, I'm sure I could do the 65 mile course I've chosen tomorrow with no problem. Now, I might not be all that comfortable or be able to walk the next day, but I could do it. So, in order to keep my social agenda in order in the days following the ride, I guess I should train and get my body in order.

If any of y'all can make a donation, I'd greatly appreciate it. My personal fundraising page can be found here.

Can I please catch a break?

I have a problem. With staying vertical. Now I know what many of you will say... "Heh-heh, yeah. You like the horizontal tango!!" Well, yes I do. But this problem is associated with cycling. I've posted many times before about my problems with staying upright on my bike (I've wiped out no less than three times in the past year) and my problems with avoiding inanimate objects (I ran into a dumpster at one point). No, I'm not counting getting hit by a car as a problem I've had cuz, well... he ran the light and hit me.

Anyway, I've been doing very well with staying vertical lately. I learned a few tricks from my SBF on how to recover when it seems like you're about to lay down your bike and how to improve the traction of your tires when the roads are slippery. However, I guess I really am the clutz that I never wanted to admit that I am.

I was riding to a bike shop the other day (ironic, isn't it) and just as I'm cycling up to the front door my front tire slips into a crack between the parking lot and the sidewalk in front of the shop. And gets stuck. While I was trying to turn the handlebars to head to one of the bike racks. So, I'm trying to move the bike in one direction and the bike is basically telling me that this is not physically possible given the current situation of the tires. And then gravity enters the conversation and tells me that I'm needed in a meeting on the ground. I try in vain to catch my footing on the pavement before I completely keel over, but it was really a vain attempt.

I went down. Right in front of the automatic doors that slid open as I fell. Which revealed my stumble to several cycslists all done up in their riding gear and sparklingly pretty bikes as they were heading out for a ride.

Once... just once... I'd like for my falls to not be witnessed by half of Austin so I could try to salvage a little bit of my dignity.

Vain? Moi?

On Friday night, I took a master “train the instructor” style fitness class for group cycling and boot camp. I’ve been teaching group cycling for a few years and have contemplated getting more information about being able to orchestrate a good boot camp workout. Well, this “master class” was being taught by a nationally renowned “fitness guru” and I gotta say that I was impressed not only with her, but her beautifully sculpted assistant. I couldn’t help but stare at him. Well, whenever I wasn’t being killed by the routine.

So, after an hour and a half of being tortured I had a decision to make. Cycle home or treat myself to a bus ride up the hills into South Austin.

I pedaled away from the gym on my way to the bus stop cuz I figured that after the ordeal I had gone through, coupled with the heat of a typical Central Texas summer day, it was prolly a good idea to give myself a break.

I got to the bus stop, leaned my bike against the bench and sat down. Just then, a shirtless guy on a bike cycled up to the intersection and stopped at the light. A particularly hot and tan shirtless guy on a bike. He looked at me. He looked at my bike leaning against the bus stop bench. He looked back at me. The light changed and he cycled away.

“Bitch,” I thought, “you don’t know what I’ve just gone through…”

Then I looked at myself. Even though I’m doing fairly well, let’s just say that I’m not yet recovered from the recent legislative session fitness-wise. Last summer I was all about cycling shirtless – you know, cuz it’s good for a nice even tan.

“Grumble, grumble, grouch… fine!” I exclaim to myself, silently cursing the hot, tan, sexy, shirtless guy on the bicycle that was now well on his way up the hills into South Austin. I get back on my bike and follow suit.

The neurosis of my vanity is not to be underestimated.

I... ummmm... *sigh*

Most of the time, I cycle to work. This isn't news. At my office, there's a lovely locker room for me to shower and change clothes in. I think this is fabulous. In the evenings, however, I don't go down to the locker room to change. Oh no, it's three floors below me. I simply close my office door, close the blinds, and change.

No longer.

Today, as I was preparing to give a presentation, someone pulled me aside. "Cary, I really need to tell you something."

"Sure, what's going on," I inquire.

"The blinds. Your blinds. They don't work."

"Ummm... what?!?"

"You were wearing dark underwear last night, right? And you have a white towel hanging on the back of your door."

*blank stare*

At this point, the realization hit. For the past six months I've been changing clothes in my office in the evening as everyone leaves work, walks out to the parking garage behind my building, and gets in their cars. The parking garage that my office windows face. All these people. There must be hundreds in my building. Walking out to the garage. Not realizing that they're about to get a show.

It's inside my head!

Music has always played a big role in my life. I played musical instruments for the better part of two decades, and have always really enjoyed having music as a backdrop to my life. There are not many times when I do not have some sort of music playing, be it at home, on the go, or at work. When I don't have music playing, I tend to have an internal stereo to take up the slack. Sometimes this is a good thing. At other times, not so much. The other day, for instance, the theme song to Dynasty was stuck in my head for hours. This, unfortunately, was not the first time this has happened.

Today started out with a relatively harmless tune, but quickly morphed into Barry Manilow's infamous "Copacabana (At the Copa)." It stuck with me for HOURS. Even as I played other music in my office, whenever I left to go to a meeting or talk to other people, it came back. Luckily, by the time I left work today, I had been able to shake it. However, on my ride home this evening, a different, more insidious song crept in.

I was riding past Lady Bird Lake in downtown Austin, and spotted the Oscar Mayer Wiener Mobile. Instantly, "I wish I was an Oscar Mayer wiener..." flooded my internal speakers. In an attempt to not be consumed by the song on my ride home, I decided to play with the lyrics a bit. This is what I came up with:

If I had an Oscar Mayer wiener
It'd mean I have a small, pencil dick
And if I had an Oscar Mayer wiener
No one would come to sit on top of it

But it's only wafer thin!

Everyone has fears. Some are logical and totally understandable. Others are rather irrational and, well, silly. Mine falls into this latter category.

Sidewalk grates. I'm afraid of sidewalk grates. You know, those flimsy pieces of metal that cover deep chasms of underground tunnels, pipes, and all the creepy-crawly things that live down there. Those flimsy pieces of metal that could snap at any moment, plunging the passerby deep below the surface of the Earth. I shudder every time I even think about walking over one. So I don't. Walk over them, that is. I avoid them at all costs.

Last night, however, was my worst nightmare. There's a particular stretch of roadway in downtown Austin that due to the construction on the street and the sidewalk that connects to the pedestrian/cycling bridge, I was forced onto the sidewalk in front of City Hall for half a block. This half of the block, however, contains a 20-something foot expanse of sidewalk grates. A 20-something foot expanse of sidewalk grates that I was forced to ride across as there were other people on the sidewalk. A 20-something foot expanse of sidewalk grates that threatened to buckled and fail as the tires of my bike rolled from one grate to the next. A 20-something foot expanse of sidewalk grates...

"Just keep pedaling, just keep pedaling, just keep pedaling..." I kept singing to myself. "What do we do, we pedal, we pedal... just keep pedaling..."

After what seemed like an eon... After what seemed like 600 miles of sidewalk grates... I finally got to the end and was able to make my way home. It took at least a mile or two for my apprehensiveness to subside.

grumble, grumble... groan, grumble...

I'm at the office. It was a beautiful ride into work this morning with the sun rising slowly as I entered downtown. The kettle is on in preparation for my morning tea. I have "Addicted to Base" playing.

Yet, tired does not even begin to describe how I'm feeling this morning. I have to say, this early rising so that I can make it into the office at a decent hour is causing me to go to bed at a respectable time. I mean, I stayed up till 11pm to watch Project Runway (how the HELL did Kenley not go home last night?!?!?!?) and I'm paying the price for it now. Really? 11pm is too late for me?

*le sigh*

It wasn't my fault!

This morning... I spit on a woman. Well, almost.

I was on my way into the office after a trip to the dentist. I was sitting at a stop light, on my bike, just kinda looking around, poking at my novacaine-numb lip with my tongue. (Hey, y'all know you all do that!!) A woman entered the crosswalk in front of me. I grabbed my water bottle, took a big swig, and attempted to swallow.

Now, it didn't occur to me that I didn't really have full control of my lips as I attempted this tricky maneuver. As a result, I nice fountain of water spewed from my lips, arcing beautifully roughly two feet in front of the woman crossing the street.

She stopped dead in her tracks, whipped her head around to look at me with the nastiest look on her face. I thought she was gonna come over and whoop my ass.

"I dust hab denbil werk," I mutter roughly as I tried to express utmost shock and horror with my eyes and body language. She continued to look at me as if she was gonna pummel me into the ground. Then she just busted up laughing, started shaking her head, and walked on.

Bicycle Experiment - Update

I'm back on my bike. I've actually been back on my bike since Christmas. Can't let being hit by a truck and a little flying through the air deter me. However, I have been having a few challenges.

My ankle is still giving me a little bit of trouble, but it is getting better. And everytime I approach an intersection where a car is waiting to turn left in front of me, my heart jumps up into my throat.

However, the main problem? My ass is getting bigger.

Firmer. Stronger. More bubble-like. But still bigger.

How is this a problem, you might ask?

My underwear no longer fits. It's getting to the point that it's digging into me... um... elsewhere. Perhaps I'll just start going commando.

You got your chocholate in my peanut butter...

There seems to be a pattern to the manner in which I recover emotionally from bodily injury. Years ago when my right hand was smashed in a boating accident and it was thought I might have nerve damage or loss of some motor skills, I found myself sitting in bed, jar of peanut butter in one hand, King-Size Hershey bar in the other, dealing with my pain.

Last year when I broke my pelvis and Latex Guy and my sex life was less than desired due to the many constraints on my ability to move, I often found myself with a jar of peanut butter in one hand and a milk chocolate bar in the other, consoling myself.

The last few days while I've been recovering from being hit by a truck (by the way, there is some truth to the statement "I feel like I just got hit by a truck"), I've gone through two and a half fabulous chocolate bars and about a third of a jar of peanut butter. Brit Boy made some fabulous choices in chocolate bars before he left for Cuba. Too bad he wasn't around to enjoy them.

Maybe this is why I always gain a few pounds after I injure myself.

OW!!!!

While Brit Boy was here last week we went underwear shopping. After perusing through several different brands and styles, I selected a nice pair of dark blue C-IN2 briefs with Sling-Support. What is "sling support," you might ask? Well... it's a way to lift and support my natural... er... assets. I had heard about these at a party and was definitely intrigued. See, I've noticed a bit of discomfort at times while riding my bike around town, specifically in the scrotal area. I wanted to see if these things could support my goods.

I can say that when I put these puppies on, I was all sorts of supported. I actually felt a little uncomfortable with how prominent I was. I mean... I wasn't sure that I really liked having my goods on display like this. But, they definitely did the job with helping me avoid a bad case of crotch soreness.

That is, until I wore them to work the other day.

I'm just sitting at my desk going through some emails when I do a little scratch. Which is immediately followed by an intense pain of the scrotum. I shift. I adjust. To no avail. In fact, I only make the situation worse. It's like someone has taken a clothespin and clipped it to my jigglies.

I run to the bathroom, rip open my pants, pull down my underwear and disentangle my meat and potatoes from the elastic band sling-support.

I need to find a better way to protect my assets.

Bicycle experiment... on hold.

Well, my bicycle experiment... is on hold right now.

Today, I got hit by a car. By a Ford Explorer to be precise. I rolled over the hood, hit the windshield, was upside down for a bit, and crashed to the ground. My bike... is trashed. A large portion of it, actually, has been bent in half.

I spent the better part of the afternoon at the county trauma center. After about 20 X-rays, a Cat-Scan, and some general poking and prodding, I'm okay. I have some serious road-rash and from about my mid-thigh to my ankles it feels like I'm on fire. But I have no broken bones. Thank god for my week-old helmet.

Bicycle Experiment: Week 1

I've started an experiment. An experiment to reduce my reliance on my car. To reduce my consumption of motor vehicle fuels. To reduce my carbon footprint.

I'm riding my bicycle around town instead of using my car for most of my transportation needs.

After one week, there are a few things that I've noticed.

My world here in Austin is very small. Part of this is due to me having a pretty standard routine and traveling the same paths day in and day out. I have now started using alternate paths, and coming to know the neighborhoods around me much better.

Austin has some hills, yo! Now, My San Francisco friends will scoff at me, but still... these are pretty fun. And a little daunting at times.

I've found that I'm much better at grouping errands together. There's more involved in just popping over to the store if you're on your bike.

Riding to work in the morning really wakes me up. I've been so much more alert when I start work. My co-workers don't know what to do with a chipper and energetic morning me. They're so used to one that simply grunts and shuffles his feet until about 10am.

and finally... my caloric intake has skyrocketed. I swear, I don't know when I've ever been eating as much as I am right now. And I'm still slimming down.

How do you spell relief?

I had just finished dinner with some friends in North Austin and was on my bike heading back home.  That's when I felt it.  The feeling that I know so well.  A tension growing in my groin.  It's like my underwear is too tight and I'm straining against it.  I shift on my seat, attempting to ease my discomfort.  I stand up on the pedals, but the movement of my jeans against my crotch only intensifies my discomfort.  My body is telling me that I need relief, and I need it now.

My path home takes me through the Capitol grounds.  I stop, thinking that I might be able to quickly head inside and take care of matters.  The doors are locked and I don't have my security badge to grant me access.  CRAP!!

It's growing.  More urgent.  It's like a knot in my crotch, begging to be untied.  I need the release.

I hop back on my bike, and sprint through downtown.  I start to think of quicker routes back to my house.  Can I handle this tension for the ride up the massive hill that leads into South Austin?  Suddenly, as I'm racing down one street, the answer pops into view.  I slam on my brakes, take off my helmet, and lock up my bike.  I quickly enter a watering hole frequented by homosexuals.  I head to the back of the bar, and it's like my body knows that I will soon be letting go.  With every step the tension builds, as if I'll be able to climax in ten seconds flat.  

I enter the bathroom, walk up to a urinal, and the sense of relief runs through my body as all those iced teas I consumed at dinner flush out.  My knees almost buckle as I exhale deeply.  Now I understand why some men sigh loudly as they urinate.

OUCH!!!

There's a lesson to be learned in almost all that you do.  Even the most mundane, common, and routine actions can lead you on a path of learning.  Let's take last night as an example.

When, at 3:30am, you decide that you absolutely must go to the store to purchase a "can't live without" item, and you decide to ride your bicycle due to the fact that you've had *way* too much to drink, and while en route on your bicycle, you decide that you absolutely must call a particular person in England...

wear a phone headset.