Going for Gold?

I'm having a little Olympic Withdrawal. I miss Lochte, Lezak, Phelps and Torres. I miss Bolt and Bob too. I miss the backstories, victories and defeats. (However, for the first time in over two weeks I've been able to go to bed before midnight.)

Growing up in track & field and swimming, I've always been a sucker for the summer games and I still dream about someday being a competitior. (I'm thinking flat water kayaking or clay pigeon shooting are my last options at this point in my life...) But it's not the Gold I'd dream about getting. It's the Bronze.

When you win the Gold, you are the champion for four years, but people are going to talk about how you cheated, or the judges cheated, or how you just barely won, or that you take steroids. And then somebody is going to take it away from you and you'll be compared to who wins four years from now and who you beat etc.

When you win the Silver, it just means you weren't good enough to get the Gold. Sometimes you weren't good enough by 1/100 of a second. You are going to lie awake for many nights thinking "if only". If only I would have jumped a little harder, glided a little faster, pedalled stronger, ran faster, if only...

But the Bronze...have you ever watched the Bronze winner? They are just as happy as the Gold winner, if not happier. They were good enough to get a medal at the Olympic games. They gave it their all with no expectation other than to finish. There's no pressure to justify how they won, and no pressure that their record is going to be taken from them. Just peaceful sleeping knowing you won a medal at the Olympics. Case in point, when Peter Vanderkaay won bronze in the mens 200 Freestyle. He was so ecstatic on the medal podium, and his father crying and waving in the stands. The bronze. I'd race for the bronze.

*Eating Yams and Long Striding Gams

Every two years I'm reminded how much I love Bob Costas!

(you know. The Olympic broadcaster? Yeah, I'm sure he does other sports too...)

(*upon the Jamaican Bolt winning the Gold.)

Volunteering

So if you know anything about me you probably know that a) I'm a little quirky and b) I really love volunteer projects.

Before I even moved down to DC I submitted an application to teach adult education to the Arlington County Correctional Facility. i.e...people in jail. I've been very excited about this project and have called and emailed with the director. Last week I went to the orientation for the program and I loved everything about it: the organizers, the other volunteers, the service it self.

However, I've talked myself out of this volunteer project. Not for the reasons normal people might. Like, the fact that you are actually in the jail, you have have training for what happens WHEN you're in a lock down, that you are sitting in a room with 6-8 people who could have sold drugs or murdered someone. no, none of those reasons. I was actually really excited about all of that.

It came down to two things: 1) scheduling: they don't offer classes at a time that I can volunteer. 2) wardrobe. yeah. so, the main three kinds of clothes I wear are business suits, dress/skirts, work-out clothes. But in the jail we can not wear skirts or business clothes or anything that would show a lot of skin, like shorts. Casual pants and big shirts are the only thing you can wear. It's completely understandable why, but those are clothes I don't own, and, the thought of wearing pants just was too much for me.

Yes reader, I opted out of tutoring GED classes to inmates because I can't wear pants.

Commute

When I first interviewed in the DC office, I was told that several people biked to work. I spent some time with two of them and they pointed out on a map where they lived and the trail they used. That information was one of the biggest deciding factors when I booked my apartment. I will do anything to get where I need to go by using my own energy. I just HATE driving and am only mildly less averse to taking the subway.

My last mtn bike was stolen during a robbery in November. I had a difficult time deciding what kind of bike to get. The commute is 8 miles each way so I didn't want to go with a fat mtn bike with shocks, but I have never liked being on a road bike. I REALLY wanted a cyclocross, or tricross bike, but they're not cheap. I went with the hybrid on road slicks. Ideally I could have a bike for all purposes, but this one will do for now.

Including my Incredible Hulk trike, this is my 9th bike which doesn't sound like a lot if you say compare them to shoes, but I imagine is more than I'll ever have of cars.

Anyway, below are a few pictures of what my commute home looks like. I wish I could capture the wind and sound in the last two photo's. The trail goes right along the airport and there is a giant park that in the evening everyone goes to to have picnics, play soccer, but mostly just to watch the planes take off and land. It literally almost takes your breath away the planes are so close over head.

The Ride


Lincoln Memorial

Washington Monument

Some cool statue as you cross the bridge


Coming in for a landing


just passed over head

Fuel

This is how much I hate driving (and how much I love my little Chevy Prism): Almost one full month later, and I have finally co-mingled DC gas with my last fill up somewhere on the Jersey turnpike on June 23, 1:00 pm.

It's funny how little end dates and mile markers can make you homesick.

funktionlust

"the pleasurable sensation that an organism experiences when it is functioning according to its physical and sensory potential."

BTW

In case you didn't know (and chances are you don't since I didn't tell many people) I moved to DC two weeks ago. Yeah, I don't know why I keep those sort of things to myself. Last week I received an email from the bishopric of LP2 asking if we could meet. Um...well...no 'cause I moved to DC and didn't tell anyone.

I'm here instead of there and so far it's pretty cool.