Friday, October 30, 2009

Best Ever

Avery seems to think he's too busy to attend to this blog. I've seen his grade in Spanish so I know he's not spending all his time there. Come'on Avery. Post something!!!!!!!!

In his continual absence, I offer this post of the greatest album ever--at least the greatest rock and roll album of my generation. I tend to listen to Dave Matthews more these days, but as a pure rock album--this can't be touched. What about the rest of you? What's your favorite rock album of all time?

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Raingutter Regatta

This videos were captured with iPhone. This is a scouting event where boys make boats from balsa wood kits. They race them in track made from rain gutters. It gets them pretty wound up.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Hail Storm Snowbird Ride

Rode my bike up to Snowbird on Saturday. The ride up was very nice. Started at about 50 degrees and by the time I reached the resort I could see my breath. The ride down was awful. I caught a hail storm which really hurt--not to mention it froze me. I crept down the canyon slowly and shaking with chills. But all in all, it was a great ride and no better way to scrub away the calories.

As you can see from looking to the top back of the photos, we've got snow. Lousy pictures captured with iPhone.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Carb Loading Gone Bad

So this past weekend was supposed to be a monumental day for me. It was my third triathlon but my first in 22 years, and my first since losing 75 pounds of desk-jokey voluptuousness. I have been looking forward to it for a long time. I have invested a lot of money on a personal trainer, new clothes (a 75-pounds change is three wardrobes), and a carbon-framed road bike. And a lot of sweat.

And the day began with a really auspicious start. I walk out of my bedroom in the morning and there is a crate-paper finishing line with all kinds of inspirational messages on it. I get to my car and there are home-made cards with fun messages from my boys--chiefly "Break Someone's Clavicle" from the Will Ferrell movie "Kicking and Screaming."

This is really a contextual joke--you need to see the movie, but don't waste your time if you don't have kids in soccer. Premise is Will Ferrell is a wussy dad who gets pinched into coaching his kid's soccer team. One of his steps in "manning-up" out of wussidom is becoming addicted to caffeine and coffee. The former wuss then gets so hyped up for soccer games he starts soliciting aggressive behavior from the little ankle bitters, including: "Break someone's clavicle--that's what the medics are for." In our family, it's a humorous version of "break a leg." Anyway, I get into my car to make the six-hour journey for the race, and I've got all this great motivational stuff from the kids waiting for me. I'm feeling pumped.

Speaking of pumped, here's my bike on the back of the car as I pump gas for the trip. Specialized Roubuix Pro. Looking good. How could anything go wrong.

Upon completing the long drive to the event location, I checked into my hotel and asked the desk clerk where I could do some substantial pre-race carb loading. He suggested the only "Italian" restaurant in the small town, and I got a table for one.

My first indication of a non-compliant experience should have been the appetizer--instead of delicious artisan bread and a lovely olive oil and balsamic vinegar dipping sauce, I got a bowl of un-shelled peanuts. No matter, kitsch is ambiance when it comes to small-town dining--besides, this is the pinnacle reward of all the months of training and salad eating. It's carbo loading. I decide to pass on the peanuts and double up on the pasta--I order heart-attache-on-a-plate: aka fettuccine alfredo (added chicken to mollify my nutritionist psyche). And to keep with the life-style changes, I felt obliged to add a trip to the salad bar.

This is where my mind left me. The greens looked good enough, but I forgot the small-town diner salad bar credo: never get a salad at a small-town diner, and if you do get a salad, never get a cream-based dressing. I got creamy parmigiana dressing. Hey, I'm carb loading, right. As soon as I paid the bill and stood to leave, I felt heavy--more heavy than even alfredo-soaked pasta should make you feel. Before I started the ignition in my car I began to perspire.

The sign in front of this bar adjacent to the "Italian" restaurant where I logged the pre-race meal sould have been another indication--had I been in tune with the warnings being placed in my path. The sign reads: "$655 worth of Rudy Mann's Bad Check on Sale Here. PMT Plan or Trade." Kitsch meal and kitsch humor.

I spent the entire evening--until my 5:30 AM wake-up call--steeple chasing between the toilet and the wall-mounted register-style heater. Cold sweats had me testing the limits of the heater, and I hurled a religiously significant three times. All sleepless night long I kept telling myself I was simply going to have to scrub the race, but when the wake-up call came, I realized I had trained for months and driven six hours to get here. I had to make an attempt, pathetic though it would be.

I placed my bike and other gear in the transition area around 6 AM, and went back to my hotel to see if I could sleep. Race time was not until 9 AM. And that's the rub of having the race in one time zone and the only available hotel, just five minutes away, in another time zone. I recall from the pre-race packet pick-up meeting, the race director said we would be on "local" time. I assumed that meant the "other" time zone. When I returned to the starting area around 8:30, with what I thought was 30 minutes for me to leisurely put on my wetsuit, I found my Olympic distance event was just finishing the swim leg of the race. I had missed my wave starting time. I confirmed this with some of the volunteers, and I stood there watching my competitors changing into the biking leg of the race.

After the events of the night, it seemed a consistent setback in a series of setbacks. I found the race director and asked if I could participate in the Sprint version of the triathlon. He agreed but said my race time might not get accurately recorded as the last wave of the Sprint race had just started the swim. I lathered up with body glide (a necessary step if you want to peel yourself out of a wetsuit in under ten minutes), slammed on my wetsuit, and dove in the water.

About 200 yards in I vomited the small breakfast I ate around 6 AM. As luck would have it, my purging occurred right next to a spotter/helper guy in a kayak. I looked up at him, but for some reason couldn't say what was on my mind, couldn't say, "Hey, isn't it fairly obvious--I'm done. Come save me before I drown." He just looked at me, and I couldn't manage to express myself. So I decided to go a little farther. And I just kept pushing. Other than the vomiting episode on the swim, I didn't stop again. Didn't set any kind of old-dude triathlon record, but I completed the race I trained for when it seemed universal forces were against me.

The great irony of all this is that this town or this place, Lake Powell, keeps kicking my but this year. Just two months ago, our vacation got whacked, first by my youngest son getting such a massive infection in his jaw that he had to have an intravenous antibiotic.

And then secondly, just two hours later, we had to endure the area's biggest storm in 15 years and watch our houseboat get battered on a beach and witness our friends ski boat sink (while anchored on the beached). This place owes me a spectacularly good time--or more likely, this year was just my time to ante-up for years of unforgettable good times spent with family and friends on a lake that should be the ninth wonder of the world. Prior to this year, I've never had any bad karma here.

I captured a few videos on my phone of the trip down, and I'll post some next...

Travel and Race Snipets

Though the race itself was disastrous, my travel to the event was through some very beautiful desert canyon country in fall splendor. And, my one stroke a favor from the triathlon gods was an unusually sublime shuffle mix in my iPod--found some great old stuff including a very soulful cover of "Whan Love Comes to Town"--don't even know who the artist was. Wish the cell phone video could depict how picturesque this drive really was.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Mini-me Throw-in

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Edit Of Celebration

So I heart Blake Dover for editting this with me.

Monday, October 19, 2009

Sunday, October 18, 2009

The Return

My name is Avery. I used to work on this blog. I gave up on it.

My name is Avery and I am now returning to this blog.

I'd like to thank Mike (whom just had a triathlon. Congrats.) for his pictures and I'm really glad he kept this blog alive, even if it was barely breathing. But I want to do some CPR. Here is the start of something new.

Well....I couldn't load the pictures for some reason. I'll try again later today.

But I'm back.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Trophy Deeropoluza

I've never hunted deer, and I don't think I could shoot one unless I was very hungry. However, I do get put out by them eating my expensive landscaping. It's deer hunting season here, and these guys seem to know it is more safe in a backyard than on the mountain. I got to within 15 feet of these huge things before they took off.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Fall Around the House

Aspens looking great around the house...

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Somewhere Under the Rainbow...

Bad weather but a 6-nil victory. Captured via iPhone.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Bad Photos with a Purpose

So these photos have a simple purpose. They are simply random photos take with an iPhone to anger / motivate Avery into posting something good. Come'on, Man. Post something good for us! School can't be that tough.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Happy Birthday, Unit!

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Sore Calf Muscles

I've been trying to improve the bio mechanics of my running stride. Basically, it means leaning forward a bit more and trying to land on the midfoot or forefoot. I've strained my left calf muscle and haven't been able to run for 10 days. Perhaps if I had meaty legs like this I'd be able to endure better...

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Black And White

Scout Camp Shooting

Captured on iPhone

Monday, October 5, 2009

Armchair Weekend

Hope you all a had a great weekend. I seemed too tired to do much more than sit in my arm chair and read and watch a little TV. Photo taken with iPhone.

I did have a "brick" triathlonish workout on Friday afternoon that I think led to the lack of motivation on the weekend. I had a two hour bike ride up Big Cottonwood canyon (Solitude/Brighton ski resorts) and then followed it with a one-hour slow run.

Saturday, October 3, 2009


I miss this blog a lot. I'm going to try to create more time to post again. I'm not really enjoying film because I'm getting worse and worse at reeling it. I messed up big time on this last roll. I reeled the wrong way ruining all my pictures but four. Great!

Friday, October 2, 2009

How Do I Get that Goodness in Me?

Time for a food beauty shot. This is the breakfast I eat nearly every day. It's cooked over an hour in a rice cooker. Steel cut oats in a 3:1 ratio with water: usually do about 2 cups of dry steel cut oats to 10 cups of water as I add in additional grains and goodies: 1 cup of wheat flakes, 1 cup of sesame seeds, 1/2 cup sunflower seeds, 1 cup of nuts (almonds and pecans), 1 cup of shredded coconut, 1 cup chia seeds, 1/2 cup of chopped dates. Great for you and great tasting. I sweeten it with agave nectar. I have a huge bowl of it and put a chopped apple on top. Its about 400-500 calories in the morning, but I earn it by doing a rigorous workout before.

A shot inside the fridge where I store the food of the gods. I make enough to last 7-10 days. You can see the chia seeds (little dark specs) and some of the shredded coconut. You can also make out the chopped almonds (light brown chunks). My son likes to call it "groatie." This is the only food I allow him to talk that way about: it's full of oat groats. Best fuel imaginable for recovering from an early morning workout and getting you through to lunchtime.

Thursday, October 1, 2009


These images were taken with an iPhone and then edited with an iPhone application called ArtistTouch. You can check out a review of the application by watching this video. After importing your image, you make Van Gogh-like intaglio brush stroke across the screen of your iPhone to create the pallet knife looking markings. It takes about five minutes to morph a photo into a faux oil painting. Or there are other textures you can apply.