Recalibration

After rereading my last blog post, typed on my phone in the delirious haze induced by a lack of sleep, I am reminded of the virtues of brevity, especially when phone-created posts put all the photos at the end.

Tonight I was in a funk. I'm trying to figure out what working from home means for me, schedule and biking-wise, and how to be most productive and yet emerge from my cave.

I took the dogs (Piper and dog-sittee Bailey) for a long walk, which helped. I then had the option of going to my dance class for the first time in months or going for a bike ride. I opted for the latter. I wanted to move swiftly, outside.

I realized, while riding, that I had to adjust my route to avoid areas I prefer not to ride through alone in the dark. So, I took a route that allowed me to see some toads. I take that as a good omen.

One thing I learned: after you clean the gum (yes, not sure how that happened) out of your bike cleats and adjust the tension on your pedals, your feet might come unclipped much more easily than planned, which is better than the alternative reality in which I was living.

Second thing I learned: you have to stop pedaling if you take pictures in the dark and expect them to turn out.

Dark to Dawn

As I type this, I have been up for over 38 hours. Last night I went on an all-night bike ride through Minneapolis and St. Paul, sponsored by the Major Taylor Bicycling Club of MN, and now am just winding down before going to bed.

The club promotes safe and fun cycling geared towards the Twin Cities' African-American community by hosting group rides, and also educates the public about its namesake - the cyclist Major Taylor who, in 1899, became the first African-American world cycling champion. 

We were encouraged to think of our bikes as time machines. As exhaustion and some disorientation about the date and time set in (we met at 7:30 p.m. Saturday, and finished just before 7 a.m. on Sunday), this became really easy.

We mostly followed the planned route as we visited communities most impacted by the development of the interstate highway system (I-94, I-35, and Hwy 55): communities of color. We rode through many neighborhoods and made many stops to highlight a person or an event through educational content, vocal performances, and reenactments focusing on the government's failure to address community concerns while enacting public policy. We were fed very well by a terrific African American-owned catering company, and got to try a cashew brittle-maker's wares.

Every rest stop throughout the night was recorded, with the plan to make an interactive map of the educational and artistic program.

I didn't take many photos because I was focusing on the content, or had food in my hands.

These are the highlights I remember:

- Singing, food, reenactments of discussions related to destruction of the Rondo neighborhood for I-94, a recitation of a MLK speech, and some kickoff speeches at the start (MLK park).
- Riding over a pedestrian bridge that one of the riders (an artist) is re-designing. Meeting a nice guy named Jeremiah.
- Stopping at the idiotic Kmart that was built 50 years ago in the middle of a major thoroughfare (Nicollet Ave.) and hearing stories of those who lived in the neighborhood at the time. Riding down 1st Ave to downtown.
- Learning about a different bridge created by the same artist commemorating the site of old, unsafe housing projects. (He just won $50,000 for being so awesome.)
- Visiting the library in N Mpls by Van White Dr that was relocated when the highway was built, eating cashew brittle, hearing some good singing. Riding to Wirth Park and on a new bike route while meeting a communications professor named Leelah (sp).  Seeing the new Webber pool.
- Visiting a super cool barbershop in N Mpls at around midnight, having a snack, watching another performance.
- Riding through North (a guy yelled out his truck to make sure we knew it was 1:30 a.m.) to NE Mpls just as the Ferris wheel lights went out at Betty Danger's.
- Riding through NE with a nice guy named... shoot. I'll remember later.
- Seeing another performance at Nicollet Island ending in the posing of questions about race and privilege. Riding through Dinkytown.
- Ending up at the witch's tower at about 3 a.m. and having delicious soup and coffee while a U of M professor and his wife showed us maps of development that disproportionately burdened communities of color.
- Getting a hotel to open its bathrooms for us.
- Riding down the river back near my neighborhood, learning about land bridges as elements of urban design. The presentation was by the nice guy whose name I've temporarily forgotten. Darius! That's it.
- Backtracking and taking Marshall to the site of the new Rondo Plaza coming next summer, a component of which also was designed by the artistic rider. Learning from the project instigator and manager (the former head law librarian for the state) about the plans, at about 5:45 a.m., and getting a group photo taken.
- Flying to breakfast on the mostly downhill route that had no traffic, riding right down the middle of a vacant Lake Street, eating a delicious meal, and riding back home at about 8 a.m.

I like riding at night. It is peaceful and there's no traffic. It also allows you to be a little more contemplative. I loved this ride. It was educational, the singing was beautiful, the people were super nice, and it was cool that we were all lit up with bike lights. It was much more enjoyable and thought provoking than I expected it would be.

I apologize for my poor editing skills... zzzz.... zzzz...

Inn-goer Intentions

I'm in Atlanta this week, at the very, perhaps overly, familiar Marriott with the nicest barrista this side of the Mason-Dixon Line. (Is that supposed to be hyphenated?)

I was looking through the photos on my phone and was reminded of the questions my friend Kristin - a life coach - posed years ago. I had these little cards on a bulletin board in my work office and would look at them as reminders to not get lazy. The one about a rich, full life was overlaid with two photos - of my Grandpa M. and my Grandma G. - their impact and influence are stories for another day.

Also on my phone, I had a photo of two fortunes - one that I had taped to my work computer (long term goal) and another I had taped to my home computer (job opportunity). I kind of laugh over the long-term goal one - I have pretty inarticulable goals, in violation of the "SMART" framework.

Now that I'm here, in Atlanta, working with different super duper smart tobacco policy people, I find myself thinking a lot about how to balance working from home with biking.

What are my biking goals?

How will I prioritize them without a bike commute? What will my focus be?

What *is* a rich, full life (at least in terms of cycling)?

Maybe I can ponder these things as I recover from doing an all-night ride this weekend. 

Blessed, truly blessed, in an agnostic way

I have been sort of quiet lately on my blog - - initially because of confidentiality issues and more recently due to being at a loss for words to describe my upcoming job change.

I have four more days at my current job before taking two days off in limboland and then switching over to being a contractor supporting CDC's tobacco policy work.

Tonight my colleagues had a going away party for me and, despite not being at all religious, all I can do, on the heels of my family reunion in Kentucky, is quote the daily response of a guy I once hired when I worked for a human resources department at the University of Minnesota: "I'm blessed, truly blessed."

I am somewhat scared, yet have been so lucky in my entire life. I am very grateful and optimistic.

Willpower

As I sit here, somewhere between Waterloo and Davenport, I am reflecting on my poor stress management techniques.

I know that the best way to get rid of work-related stress is to ride my bike to and from work and to not eat junky food.

I drove to work Monday and, instead of riding a bike, I bought a bike. And while I passed by this tempting display at the grocery store on Tuesday (you just need a spoon, right?), my lunch consisted of a donut, coffee, chocolate cake, and two pieces of chocolate candy.

I know that this is a temporary phase, but I'm somewhat amused by how I can be strong-willed in some respects, yet lack all discipline in others.

And now I will daydream about when I'll get that fun bike out.* I'm not going to wait for snow - dirt will do!

*I have had my eye on this bike for a while to replace my current, bigger fat tire bike. The rationale is best captured in a verse of the Smith's song coincidentally on the radio right now: "An emergency stop, I smelled the last ten seconds of life, I crashed down on the crossbar. And the pain was enough to make a shy, bald, Buddhist reflect and plan a mass murder."