I am better whether I like it or not

By the powers vested in me, I hereby declare my head cold over. Two days of being a lazy bastard are two days too many. Got up early today and was back on the trainer, riding inside, sweating to the oldies. Just two days off the bike makes you feel a little disconnected from it all.

To celebrate a successful return to the saddle, I treated myself to a bicycle ride from the commuter boat to work. Got out the old red bike my brother gave me after he had beaten it senseless, threw it into the back of my used Ford Explorer, and brought it with me to the Hull boat.

What usually is a half-hour walk, from the boat to my building in the Back Bay, turned into a ten minute pedal, very pleasant. As I sit here, the tired, old, red cannondale M300 is parked behind me, resting against the wall of my office.

Apparently, my company is in the midst of a relocation plan to find new office space. I would like my next office to have a washer/dryer, a shower, space for a closet, a bunk for those late nights when it’s not worth going home, and a special dog bed for my dog, Lance Armstrong. We’ll see if I get to plan my own space. Somehow I don’t think the architect will find my request appealing.

Tonight, I shall join a committee on Sustainable Transportation for the Town of Hull. This will be a grand adventure, as most committees, by their very nature, are a challenge and an opportunity. Group think is seldom a pleasant experience.

I believe that if our tiny town were to be more bicycle accessible, it would be positive. Venice Beach in California is bicycle accessible, and the path is both a place to exercise and a place for business people to profit. As Hull is a summer destination, we too could profit from a bicycle path.

There was a great story in the New York Times Sunday Magazine about a ballerina. She said something along the lines of, “It wasn’t my talent that was holding me back. It was my perception of my talent.” When she released her perceptions of her talent, and stopped focusing on her shortcomings, she made vast improvements.

Had a talk with Coach about a similar occurrence. He had a female sailor, who as a freshman was decent, but not spectacular. Even though her life was filled with tragedy, she lost both of her parents at a young age, she was blessed with “happy genes.” She smiled all the way to the top of the Tufts sailing team, and the Olympics.

Last time I saw Coach, he had changed somewhat from when I sailed for him. In those days, he was driven by an energy that was a little dark, one that pointed out faults rather than strengths. He’s now much more focused on the positive, making the choice of happiness. It sounds trite. It sounds like something on one of those hokey “successories.”
But it works.

I have volunteered to be part of “Dragon Week” for my school, St. George’s. That means you call people you haven’t spoken to in two decades and beg for money. Had a great chat with Dave Ginn, an artist in West Palm, and a nice email exchange with Miguel McCormick. He was hoping that if he made a donation to the school, they might consider naming the gym “McCormick Rocks.” We’ll see.