Congratulations, everyone.  We’ve made it to an all time high in gas prices, surpassing, NO, BLOWING AWAY the previous record by a whopping 5 cents on average.  On top of that, demand is up 1%!  Good job, fellow gobblers.  The best news of the equation is that Wal-Mart reported a drop in sales of 3%.  I’m guessing that some Eastern Montanans are doing the math on driving 200 miles to Billings to save 3 cents on laundry detergent.

I celebrated the kick-off of Bike To Work Week by riding up several canyons, getting a little lost, then eventually finding a loop that was not the loop I planned on to get back home several hours later.  I also observed the day by not going in to work today, making my bike my ‘office’.  I’ve been doing more of that, validated by this message left on my voicemail on Friday from my director, Bega:

“Hi Becky.  You don’t need to call me back for a few days.  Just wanted to say hi and that I hope you are riding.  That is riding and not running….bike shipped to sponsor soon would be great…go for a ride and not a run, ok?….So, in any event, I’m assuming you are riding and not running…and be sure you don’t run anymore, but ride…Have fun not running. Ride.  K, talk to you soon.”.

Thereby, in observance of Bike To Work Week, I will 1. go to work and 2. not run to work.

Here’s to hoping you all are better citizens than me,

BB

I had heard much about Kenneth.  He had replaced Bonnie, as the GPS system, or Tom Tom, of Jenette’s car.  Bonnie came across as a know-it-all and seemed to talk down to Jenette in her times of need. She was fired and replaced. I had heard that Kenneth was understanding, relaying information sweetly through his Australian accent.  I listened to Kenneth, but breifly dated Vlad, too. I may have liked him, but I could not understand what Vlad was saying, since he told us where to go in Russian. Kenneth and I connected. Our relationship blossomed rather quickly.

Kenneth is a genius. He keeps his cool and politely, yet straightforwardly and sternly, told us how to navigate through Georgia and the Carolinas.  The first time I set my eyes on him, Jenette was softly stroking his little face and mumbling something about maybe sleeping with him that night.  I thought little of it, thinking she was just missing her husband.  And now, I miss Kenneth.  Funny how it works that way, but the mere thought of Jenette and Dale, carrying on through the night with Kenneth makes me rage a little.  Kenneth is meant to be with me! I am certain of this.

The night that we were looking for some food on the way to South Carolina, dangerously approaching the hour at which they close such establishments in rural areas, Kenneth tried to tell me where to head for safety and nourishment.  I turned Kenneth off, thinking he was leading us into a field.  How the heck could he know?  We appeared to be in the middle of nowhere.  Ten miles later, we switched Kenneth back on and got the other cars to follow us in a U-turn.  Kenneth, unaffected by our lack of trust, continued on and led us to Cheddar’s of Macon, Georgia, where Jenette and I gobbled up steaks.  It was a place he had told us of in the moments before we pulled the plug on him.  And, not once did he mutter, “I told you so.”. So forgiving.  So wise and considerate of our needs.

Yesterday, I set out to find Trader Joe’s in Silver Lake.  With the confidence of Kenneth, I embarked on a journey that made it clear that I am not Kenneth.  But, I do believe I love Kenneth. Just as Jenette does.

I can’t wait to see you again, dear omniscient soul.

Til then, I’m yours and lost,
BB

You know those lists that people have of THINGS TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE?  I have one of those and I’m cranking straight through it.  In fact, it’s frightening to me when I think of the concept of what happens when I complete the list? Will I die?  That is why 1. I won’t complete that novel yet and 2. I have compiled a completely separate list of things to sort-of aspire to.

This is THE LIST OF THINGS I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO, BUT WOULD NEVER DO BECAUSE I SIMPLY CAN’T.

1. Do blow all the way to and through Mexico. Or, try it once.

2. Be on The Bachelor and be an absolute jerk.

3. Eat the hell out of Craft Services for lunch: popcorn, hotdogs, fruit platters, danishes, doughnuts, all sorts of pigs in a blanket, yogurt nut mixes, sandwich platters, pop, processed cheese food, ALL OF IT.

4. Walk up to the basketball coach I had in highschool, who told me that I’d “never amount to anything” and slap him across his basketball-looking, mealy-mouthed, messy pie face.

5. Roll up to a crit start with a lit cigarette in my mouth and put it out while staging.

6. Finish any of the great works of fiction I skimmed or pretended to read in undergrad.

7. Conduct a casino heist.

8. Be Chris Hanson on To Catch a Predator for a minute or two.

9. Spend a week in Anarctica.

10. Somehow orchestrate an arrangement that would wipe American Express off the planet.

Here’s to daydreams,

BB

I may have found religion here. Or, at least found a bit of peace, which, for me is illusive.  Beaufort will prolly be the place I daydream of while I’m sitting at my desk in downtown LA.

I’m not going to lie, I suck.  I have no leg speed, quite a bit of fear, and my head is really getting more and more messed up about racing because of it.  I mention this because, although it feels like I’m the only one in the world that feels like a headcase, I know that every athlete has felt this.  Now.  What to do?  I’m not just trying to do both, I’m trying to do it all and  balance has never been my forte.

The good thing is that Beaufort is a place that keeps things in perspective.  The people are insanely sweet and genuine.  I feel like my quest most often is to seek the real and genuine in most everything I come across and this little corner of the world most certainly holds it.

Beaufort was the exact opposite of the Athens crowd.  My host father told me two cute antecdotes: “If I had two brothers, one in Georgia and one in jail, I’d get the one in Georgia out first”.  And, “You are in slow country.  We have a tide that rises and falls nine feet.  If you were going to get upset or in a hurry about anything, well, you’d just be insane.”. 

That’s what I’m blaming my crap racing on.

And my team.  What an incredible group of friends.  When I came out last night, I apologized for being “a big waste of money and space” and Bega came back at me with offers to set me straight and a “You don’t ever have to apologize to me, you understand that?”. I’m not sure how I got so lucky, but I managed to win the lottery.

Off to Walterboro,

BB