To My Coaching Staff

The problem is the team has to practice at a new location this weekend. Our chosen alternate is Bonelli Park. It has lots of advantages, but a disadvantage is that it has a hundred different trails. Turning 40 TNT participants loose in unfamiliar territory is a risky business, so I volunteered to scout out a decent route. And here is how that all went -

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Uhh.... well, I rode around Bonelli for two hours today. We can be certain to keep track of everyone if:

• we have 200 volunteers who know the park - OR
• everyone has a GPS - OR
• we get them all wasted first and just have them run twice around one of the large parking lots, convincing them that each lap is 9 miles.

So seeing as none of those really work, I suggest we have a quick chat in the morning. I will bring a google earth image of the park and perhaps we can figure something out. The 5 milers are easy. I do have (seriously) an 8 mile route figured out and we can do it twice. I hate repeat stuff, but that's the way it is. And I have good spots for both aid stations.

I think we really need to consider bagging Bonelli for longer mileage. For shorter routes, like last weekend, it works great. Nice park and a change of scenery. All good. But for longer routes the trails are like a rat warren. Good thing Larry C. is not on the team this year - he'd end up in Riverside.

Now that I've dispensed with the official stuff, picture this.

I show up at the park and ride and grab my bike out of the back of the Lexus. A fine bike it is too - I've ridden it about twice. I got it at Target, so you know it's just like the one Lance rides. I grab my back pack and my helmet, get on the bike and go from the park and ride down to the trail to the tunnel, just like Karla took us last weekend. Except when you're 53 and on a bike, that hill down to the tunnel looks more like a cliff. Down the trail I went, gritting my teeth and nearly wiping out about half way down. Hey - did you know that if you lock up the front tire going down a dirt hill things get squirrelly pretty quick? Yup! Thank heaven I lived to warn you.

Let me make it clear on this bike thing - I know only two things about bikes. One is that the pedals seem to propel you, and the second thing is that if you click the shifter thingy just right it ejects the chain right off the sprocket in nothing flat. Not sure why a bike needs that particular feature, but hey - if it works for Lance it's good enough for me. Are you clear on this? Me as a biker - not so much. But this is for THE TEAM, so I venture on.

Being the brilliant planner that I am (quit laughing Karla) I had stopped at the store on the way there to grab some flour to mark the trail. Did you know they sell flour in a resealable plastic bag now? Brilliant! I bought that one! No old-fashioned paper flour bags for me - no sir. I also bought a bottle of water and threw both the flour and the water in my back pack.

Where was I - so I ride to the hut thing we used as the start-finish last week. I ride across the dam, down the road, and figure I will mark the spot where you step off the road and onto the trail. I remove the flour from my back pack, I open previously noted nifty bag of flour, and try to dispense. Oh wait - the flour is not quite coming out fast enough, and as I wrangle with the bag, I drop it. Immediately my feet and legs are enveloped in a white cloud of Pillsbury's finest - the bulk of which sticks to my by now quite sweaty self. I looked like some cannibal was prepping me for his deep fryer. That's about the time the cop drove by. I waved meekly and smiled, trying to look intelligent. He slowed down, and looked, and looked again, shook his head and took off. Thank God.

Here's another bit of information for you. If you do buy the flour in the nifty plastic resealable bag, you should know that the only way you will ever reseal that freaking bag is if you happen to have a roll of duct tape with you. And wouldn't you know it, I'd left my duct tape in the garage. What the hell was I thinking. So I roll up the bag nice and tight, and back in the back pack she goes.

Now you're probably thinking, "why keep the flour Dave? Just throw it away!" Good thought. Not like I bake every week or anything, and it cost a grand total of $2.59. Chucking it wouldn't have meant starving for the rest of the month or anything. But let's just say I didn't think of that then, ok? Hey - I've been under a lot of stress. Bethany's traveling this week and I actually had a meaningful conversation with the dog last night, if that is any indication of my mental condition.

Anyway, after tucking away the flour, I ride down around the lake (nice day - about 98 degrees though, for real). Turnaround head back up to the dam, and figure I'll stop at the start/finish hut and check my mileage. Oh gee why don't I grab that bottle of water out of the trusty back pack and have a swig? I open up the back pack, and not only had the flour bag emptied itself all over the inside of my pack, it seems that water bottle had a bit of a leak. Maybe three. The inside of my backpack looked like the Keebler elves had been using it to mix up a batch of cookies. I hate those little ba$tards.

So that was pretty much how the rest of my afternoon went. How was your day?

See you tomorrow Team Awesome.

D