Internet dating for the triathlete

For those of you that have not been following along, let me bring you up to speed.
Last week as the temperatures hung around nothing and the cabin fever of winter training started to really settle in, I decided to broaden my social circle and give internet dating a spin. I first felt a little weird about it. But I knew that many of my friends in triathlon I met through CTC or blogging. That has turned out well, so why not try this?.

First off, if you are looking for juicy date details, you will not find it here. I think that is a betrayal of confidence. So I will not write about other people in regards to this experiance.

For any of you that has never explored the online singles scene, the whole process begins much the same way our blog world begins. We create a personal profile.The profile of course asks questions that perspective partners may find important.

Well I figured it would be fun to fill out my singles profile here.
Tell me what you think. I am trying to refine it. I would of course like to make a good impression.

Age: still 39
City: Cleveland Heights, Ohio
Seeking: women 28-42 within 10 miles of Cleveland( no car)
Relationships: Never Married/ engaged twice
Ethnicity/Race: Caucasian/IMKY
Have Kid's: None
Want kids: Not obsessed with the idea. I will cross that bridge when I get to it.
Religion: Don't ask.
Zodiac: Aquarious/monkey
Types of excircise: Swim, Bike, run, weights, yoga
How many workouts per week: 10-16 work outs for 14-20 hrs
Body type: Ok this is where it gets tough to answer. They offer up some basic types for you, but you can only pick one. So here are the body types and thoughts on each one.

1. Slender: not for about 19 years.
2. Athletic and toned: I am very fit, but of course I am no Arnold Schwarzenegger. My legs, buff. Up top, not so much.
3. About Average: What does that mean? For an American? For a 40 year old(I am really 39. but for rants sake, I am 40) American male? No I am not average, I am an Ironman!
4. A few extra pounds: Really? Maybe? I think my mom's and the gyms scale lie. Do you really think I am carrying a few extra pounds? Oh no. Hills in Kentucky. Must loose weight. Must loose weight. Argggg. Why do I obsess over the gut. Why do want to eat so much cereal?.....Next.
5. Heavy set: Compared to all of my training buddy's. Sometimes I am with other triathletes and I feel like a line backer.
6. Stocky: No

Diet: Vegan
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Dark blonde
Body art: M-dot ink, right calf
Best feature: My voice

Favorite things: I enjoy waking to coffee and a bagel followed by a 4 hr brick with 90 degree temperatures, 4200 yards at dusk, and a 45 minute run in sub zero windchills with my face covered in vasoline.

What I look for in a partner: RUNNNNN! I am training for Ironman. I am a musician I am obsessed with training and practicing my guitar. Saturdays begin and end with workouts sandwiching a rehearsal and cereal....Why do I want so much cereal.....Runnnn. This is no life, do not try to have an emotionally charged relationship with me. I am focused on fourth street live.

Balance

I have been obsessed with balance since I took my first steps as a bi-ped. As a musician I seek tonal balance. As an artist I seek it in color, value, and space. My athlete looks for it within my training. As a swimmer, cyclist, and runner my physical balance is a must. Nutritional balance can not be sacrificed. My body, mind, and spirit must be balanced.

Sometime balance is missing and I crash. Sometimes my checkbook looks like a drunk navigating his way down Coventry at 3am. My social life suffers greatly due to my commitments and goals. I find it hard to offer myself without restriction and limit. I am kind of busy.
Sometimes my mood leans to far toward the dark. Sometimes I am little to excited. It is wonderful to be happy, but sometimes you need time to reflect, mourn and cry.

Our economy is out of balance. We have so much wealth shared amongst so few. The rest of us suffer uncertainty and many suffer dire poverty. Our output of waste is ridiculously out of whack. You think history would have taught us something by now. Our world needs balance!As I near the midpoint of my life(That is assuming I live to 80) I seek balance. The more I learn, the less I know. As my fitness increases, I realize how limited I am. The wisdom age has granted me is equaled by the foolishness of this confidence.

I know the only way to grasp the present is to let go of the past. The only way to prepare for the future is by focusing on the now. The point that is central to my world begins within me. I must remain centered in order to reach outside of myself. The world around me can not regain balance until I am able.

Finding balance as an athlete/musician/worker/uncle/friend/brother/son is often a struggle. Some areas go ignored from time to time. I apologies for that. I try. It is not easy. I am always amazed by those that handle this so well. They are rare masters. I am not. But it remains my central goal.

Anyhow, stay balanced, were all depending on it.

Everything is as it should be.

I am taking steps to address key issues in my life that I find lacking. I have been bitching about it a little to much lately. It has become time for me to leave my comfort zone and do what I don't feel comfortable doing. My life is so rich in so many ways, yet something goes unresolved. As January in Cleveland leaves you longing for the sun. My life longs for companionship. So I have decided to start dating.

Tom Waits said "You don't meet nice girls in coffee shops". I know what kind of decisions I make in bars. Well, that rules out work.
During races, The last thing I want to do is tip toe up to the prettiest girl in Lycra and ask for her number.
How the heck would that work?!
"Excuse me sir, I know you have a lot of body marking to do, but could I borrow your sharpee as I jot down this womans phone number?." I also just think it inappropriate. Nerves are already raised a bit. So in short, I have few chances to meet new women.

It really is time I start thinking along these lines again. My mom has been pressing the issue. I am really well past the hurt of my past. Many people I know have healthy relationships. I am once again healthy. So look out ladies, I'm on the prowl.

So you might be thinking,"where are you gonna find a date?. Where are you going to find somebody to have your coffee with?. In a city that seems like it has ten times more men than women, where are you going to meet a single woman?."

Well many of the friendships I have made over the past few years began right here in cyber space. It only makes sense. I ask myself where is everyone?. Now ask your self where are you right now? You are on the net. It is so obvious, but it just seems a little weird. So why not try. I am a little weird.

So I have put myself out there on one of those dating sites. My intentions are as obvious as my intension to race is while pulling on a wet suit.(Metaphor/pun completely unintentional, but I left it because it made me laugh)The point is, if you don't state what you want, nobody but you will ever know. So I have been seeing another site. Sorry blog land. I am glad I have you all to talk to about this stuff.

Anyhow, the early results are good. I have a plan for the coming week with a women. The best part is that whether or not a romantic click happens, I already know that this women is somebody in town I would like to talk with anyway. Not surprisingly, given the chance to review a personal profile and look for similar interests, you more than likely will meet somebody you have met or on the verge of meeting. Kinda funny how that works.

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As I talk about romance and dating, I can't help but to take the cheap opportunity to remind you of my upcoming CD release party at AJ Rocco's on Valentines day. No worries about my prowling that night, I will be singin'.

The Beachland gig on the 10th will include the premier of my newest group. John Kuegler, the drummer is really excited. He is very talented, while possessing simular points of view as mine. He seems to be taking the lead. This is good.

____________________

For my 40th birthday, Nichole, Zac and I were descussing going down to Akron and having dinner at Chrissie Hind of The Pretenders, new Vegan restaurant named VegeTerranean.

____________________

Training continues. I got new shoes last week. Everything is as it should be.

________________

Anyhow, I am of to the dating site.

1991

It was early January and I had returned to Cleveland after a stay in Chicago. We were going to war, and I was prime meat for a draft. The economy was not real healthy and I had discoverd that my roommate had lied about the rent. I had been paying 3/4. So I came home.

As GHW Bush's deadline for Iraq to withdraw from Kuwait closed in, I became more and more nervous about our future. I had never known war. For me Vietnam was where my friend Hung had come here from. He told me the stories of that war from the perspective of a child. But I don't remember it while it was happening.

I wasn't sure what to do with the energy this anticipation was creating. I was kind of freaked out, so I sought out friends my age. Everyone was feeling the same way. We were not sure wheather we agreed with the objectives and means of "Desert Storm". We did know that we were scared.

A few of us decided to head down to public square to see if anything was up. For some reason we stopped at the Case radio station WRUW and went on the air. We played a tune and then the DJ asked what we were doing about the war. I didn't really know, so I said we gonna go downtown and look for more folks trying to cope with the confusion of the moment.

Anyhow, we got downtown and met up with a handful of people that had heard us on the radio. We all sat out in front of the Sohio building and rapped with one another like a peer counseling group. We hung out till early morning(6:30am) grabbed a meal together and crashed at some apt. on the corner of Ford and Hessler. We slept thru the day and headed back down around 7PM. As we approached the square, the news had broke that the war had begun.

A great sense of urgency swept over us. We felt that we had to do something. Anything. We were now at war. The soldiers were our friends and family. Two of the group were headed to Iraq within six months. The rest of us didn't know when we might be called upon to go to war. The fear was selfish, but it was real. We all agreed that we needed to work it out together, and that we all needed to work it out as a country. So we ratted ourselves out.

We stopped at the WKYC studio and told the front desk that people were gathering at the soldiers and sailors monument.

This is when the story gets goofy. We had no plan. We were making it up as we went. I was given a blank check to ad-lib to the media on behalf of 20 other people.
When a reporter from the station TriguyJT works for asked what we were protesting, I responded, We are not protesting, we are praying for peace."
"How long will this last?" She inquired.
"Until there is peace." I announced.
The reporter looked back to the camera and said, "You heard it. They are staying until the war is over!".
My jaw dropped. What had I just done?!

Within twenty minutes VW buses and Volvos were dropping off food, tents, water, blankets and socks. We also got word that Mayor Mike White and Counsel President Jay Westbrook supported us and had promised a squad car to watch over us.

We were stuck. We began to create a plan. The first resolution we made was to remain neutral politically. We knew that we could not end a war in Iraq, but we were determined to end it in Cleveland, Ohio!

We were a motley group camped in tentville. Some had gone and some had joined along. Vets from the Vietnam war had joined us. They found peace in being able to share their own feelings about the war. We had come to realize that what we had started was important. We were making a difference with our simple request for peace. Peace was happening.

Anyhow, after three weeks of remaining neutral and doing more listening than talking we needed an outlet. We took a break to go watch the Superbowl. We all picked teams and rooted for our picks. We trash talked, we fretted, and we gloated. We acted like a bunch of 20somethings watching football. I picked the Giants. They won. Scott Norwood was the goat for the Bills.

We left the bar feeling that the game and obnoxious behavior had been really healthy. We had harmless competitive fun. We could return to our mission more relaxed, having exhausted the little boy in us all.
I had always loved sports as a kid but had turned my back on much of it as a teenager. Football was my last enjoyment in the world of athletics. But in 1991, Bill Belichick was rapidly ripping the heart from our Cleveland Browns. My love was fading.

While letting go of all of that crazy energy, sport became important to me once again. I understood why we value sport as a society. I could finally once again respect sport. Within' 7 months I had become a runner. I had finally found peace.
Peace is not something we can demand, peace is something that we are or we are not.
My little sister once told me that you got to let a little steam out or the pot'll blow.
So whether I am hammering away on the trainer or watching a game, I am letting out a little more steam. It helps to cool me down, relax me, and find peace.

Well, in 2008 I root again for the Giants. Not because I am unpatriotic, just out of nostalgia. In 1991 I rooted for the Giants to beat the Bills. In 2008 I am rooting for the Giants to beat Bill.

Peace Hippies!

Seriously, in honor of Dr. King.

Please, consider peace for just this moment.
Repeat
Repeat
Repeat
Repeat
Repeat

Friday............

Friday is my toughest day of the week. I am usually one of the first Clevelanders to arrive downtown every Friday morning. It is my day to open the cafe to the needs of the workforce as they all wrap up another week. My first costumer's are either with ATandT, lawyers prepping for an early meeting, or nurses enjoying a Friday after work beer or ten. Because we are a coffee shop with a full bar, we attract many third shifters.

Business is often busy and I commonly work a nine hour shift. Needless to say, I get tired. I like to train after work and into the early evening, but sometimes motivation is hard to locate as my batteries wear down.

During the summer, I often take Fridays entirely off from training as I rest up for big weekends on the bike and recover from the Thursday long run. Races tapers always include an off day on Friday.

During these months I train most Fridays. I especially like a Friday swim with solo lanes often available.
Today however I decided not to swim. I had the energy for the swim, but I just wasn't up to the commute. It was cold and I didn't want to absorb the mental fatigue of the bus trip.

Instead I did a trainer/strength workout. It was awesome! It was just what I needed mentally.

The flexibility in adjusting workouts based on what I think will provide the best results is tough. I don't want to chump out of a workout, but I also want to get the most out of it.

I know that I must use my energy and resources with care. If I used the remainder of my strength enduring a bus stop wait in the cold, then it may effect my swim adversely. where as I may get more out of doing a good workout in my living room. That was the choice I made today. I think it worked out well.

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While watching our idiotic congress waisting time dealing with the steroid issue/OJ in court again/ Michal Vick/ Marion Jones/Moss/ Pacman/ Clemons not knowing when to shut up/ and all the other things big time sports offer us, it was nice to see two things this week.

One was the decision 5 of 6 OSU Juniors made to forgo the NFL one more year and return for their senior seasons. 6'8" 313 pound OT Alex Boone said he was not yet ready as a player or as an adult. They all want to finish what they started and get that National Championship. In contrast to last years exodus to the NFL this is really refreshing. This will be a team I will want to root for. Hope it works out better than it did for The team that returned to Ann Arbor for the same goal this past year....

The other news roud here has Bbops school, Cleveland State University mens basketball team continuing with the success all of the NEOOhio teams have enjoyed this past year. Last night the CSU Vikings beat #12 Butler....Congrats.

Patrick

After reading B Bop and Veg's post about the early adventures that planted the seed to go longer, I have decided to post my story.

I originally wanted to post this in November following a hike through the same park of my original journey. The same lake that Jodi mentions in her post today is a 1/2 mile from the house I grew up in. It is also the location of my formative years as an endurance athlete.

My story begins in 1973 in my backyard. We were playing beside the garage behind a small pine. The sun was out, and we were growing tired of our toys. Patrick suggested that we go to Shaker Lakes. We knew we were not allowed to go, but we did anyhow. My little sister protested. We told her not to tell anyone and left on our great adventure. We were five and we were on our way to a life time of journey's.

I don't remember much about the hike. It has been 35 years and I have traveled around that lake thousands of times since then as a runner, while fishing, cycling, I might have indulged in a left handed cigarette or two, all though I don't remember for sure. I made out with a girl on my 16th birthday by the old boathouse. I have rafted and swam on the lower lake. I will be running around this same path in an hour. But that day was my first.

As we headed back toward home we saw my parents car moving slowly along our route. Patrick and I ran into some bushes to hide. My mom and Susie however spotted us as our blonde hair shown brightly in the afternoon sun. We were both grounded for two weeks. My mom was not happy about our decision to venture off on our own.

As the years past, Patrick was sent to the local Catholic School and I the public place of learning. We spent little time together because of this but always remained friends.

We both continued to seek adventure. As an adult, Pat hiked the pacific crest and the Applelation trails. His fondness for nature led him to study natural medicine and move west to Oregon and later to Montana.

As a nurse, he cared for my grandmother before she died. The last I saw of Pat he was raising money for Cystic fibrosis research with one of his hikes. He was one of the kindest souls I ever knew.

A couple of years ago I saw his brother. I asked how Pat was.

Michael said He had been missing for two years and they feared the worst.....The last sign of him was his abandoned car in Montana. He had hit a deer and no other clue was left. The theory was that he had become distraught having hit the deer and disappeared into the mountains.

I always had hope that He was OK. He knew how to survive. Maybe he just decided to "drop out".

This past fall while watching the tribe win against the yanks, I sat with Pats sister Jean. I asked if he had contacted her and if any news had surfaced about his where abouts. Jean could not support my optimism. She felt confident that he had died in the mountains and that he was gone.
We talked about it for a while. I soon began to believe she was right. If he was to contact anyone, I think it would have been Jeanie. Little sisters know.

As I type, I find it hard not to feel deep sadness over Patrick's disappearance.
The fear that provoked my little sister to tell my mom that we snuck off into the woods, had become very real 30 years later. My partner in that early adventure is now gone. A blond haired blue eyed five year old is gone. His journey is now unknown. Patrick is lost.

From lower lake to the big sky, Patrick always had a taste for hiking. I believe what he really wanted was to be able to vanish into his own world. His family had struggles that mine never had. Sometimes I wonder if that first hike was his first attempt to escape a world that caused him so much pain. I hope he has found peace. I hope he is now a part of the nature he loved so deeply.

The adventures that we travel teach us so much. The bonds and friendships that develop as we follow our paths are our true reward. This is what brings me back to race again and again. This is why I have crossed the ocean with Jen, Zac, and Nichole. There are so many of you that I have sought out at the finish line to thank.
Thank you for the journey. Thank you for the race. Thank you for being a friend.
So long Pat...

Michigan seems like a dream to me now

Training is coming along nicely. I finally feel as though I am putting in consistent work outs that I look forward to. The weather and pool hours have been cooperative the past few days. Mostly however I am hungry to train.
I have a new long run partner in the neighborhood. This is so important for me to have new runners to run with. They get excited for marathon training. It motivates me. This spring Nichole wants to do the full 26.2 and Sureet(sp?) wants to do a half. I still need to pick a race.

I also have a rehearsal planned for Saturday with a drummer and a bass player. The gigs are starting to mount. Details are still pending for a few, but I am going to be a busy triathlete/folksinger this spring.
The two recent additions are big.
First: is a CD release party at Rocco's on Valentines day.
Second is my debut on the Beachland Ballroom stage. I have played the small room, but not the Ballroom. This will happen on Feb.10(the eve of my 40th birthday). This will be a good show to witness a midlife crises.

On the thought of the impending 40, I have decided not to do the BT50k. I have two reasons for this.
One is the obvious: "does not fit into IM training plan".
The other: has to do with the new age group. I do not want to be 40 prematurely. I am still in my 30's for a month.

The only races I have signed up for are Steelhead 70.3 and IMKY. August seems so far away. I feel I have plenty of time to do some solid base work. This year my biggest training goal is to peak for both of those races instead of for the shamrock or chili bowl as I did last season.

O

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Don't bug me, I am training!

I began to feel it today. I had two commitments today that were important to me, but because of the length of time both activities would take in addition to travel time I was unable to train the way I like to on Saturday. Something in my mind kept nagging "You don't have time for this, you are training for Ironman".

When I am focused on training, I don't like to be disturbed. It is selfish I know. I tend to not use the phone much. I rarely go out. My world becomes an isolated series of workouts interrupted by work, the coffee shop, and time blogging or practicing my guitar. On the surface it may seem kind of lame, but it works for me.

My day included the show at the Kucinich Headquarters. That went fine. Everyone was annoyed that Dennis had been left out of the debates. I would like to thank ABC/Disney for deciding who gets to run for president. I think Dennis should have worn mouse ears. Maybe then he could attend the debate in New Hampshire.

I also went to my elder sisters to celebrate my niece Morgan's birthday. She is 14. Wow! The rest of the clan except my little sister Suzie was there. We missed her. The meal was not geared toward my diet. I ate a salad and drank wine.

After I got home I went to the market only to find that they have new hours....They now close an hour earlier. So I went to Tommy's and had the "NS"(Falafel, baba, veggies, tahini on a pita).

After I ate, I hopped on the trainer for an hour. I flipped between the AFC playoff and the dem. debate. The football game was great. Steelers mounted a great comeback only to be denied...HAHAHAHA!...As for the debate, I think Obama may be for real. Hillary looks so bitter. Edwards feels like a conman, and Horatio Sanz is hysterical!

Searching for that sound

As a teen I had fall'n in love with folk music after reading Woody Guthrie's Bound For Glory and listening to Bob Dylans FreeWheelin'. In Cleveland I had become familiar with some of the local folkies while working at the old Coventry Arabica. I bought an old Yamaha off a delta blues player. I would hang out in the park at the corner playing and listening to mandolin, banjo, fiddle and guitar. Something about folk music really appealed to me. It was very differant than the Jazz my dad had listened to while I grew up. The music was simple on the surface, but held a depth that I wanted to grasp. I wanted to find that sound.....

In '87 I visited Madison, Wisconsin with my freind Steve. We had been sitting in a cafe in Evanston, Illinois reading and writing when we decided to drive up to Mad-town for the night. The next day I contacted my friend Carrie(now a triathlete). We got together and played guitar all day. I was so high on the music that we made. After leaving the co-op Carrie lived in, I ventured from Langdon to State Street. I watched the street performers rattle their strings as voices shook and reverberated thru the mid-day air. As I sat in the Steep and Brew while waiting for steve, I read a magazine called the Ithsmus and realized that this town was deep in folk music. I felt music luring me toward the future home of IMMOO. I returned within two months to make Madison my home for the next year.

In February of '88 I turned 20. I spent my birthday away from home for the first time in my life. I knew few and I wanted only to play music. Every Wednesday I would go to the Rathskeller on the UW campus for the Open Mic. When the weather improved I began singing on the street to raise my keep. My buddy Chris and I traveled around by thumb. We played our guitars in cafes and on street corners. We slept on porches and couches. Our dinner was dependent on the songs. I was quickly finding my voice. I was finding folk music.

Those early years for me are special. The music was honest, raw, and real. Chris and I were living the life we were singing.

As the years past, my act became more and more polished. My songs had less and less literal relevance in my life, and I often struggled to find the ability to personalize them. Mostly I would turn to experiences past, and channel a time long gone. Resurrecting the same passion I felt when I was younger was a rare occurrence.

Today I find my self in a similar place as I try to summon the excitement of Ironman.
Last year was my first IM. My hunger for that race was deep. All I could think of was the moment I would cross over the finish. Nothing was going to stop me. Nothing could distract me. My goal was clear. My plan was well thought out and if I executed it properly I would succeed.
I was so excited for Ironman....You only have one first....somehow I have to make this next one as important as the first.

Folk music is much like triathlon. For every Dylan and Macca there are thousands of us. We all have our own story, song, and race. Every time we sing we are able to rejoice, and with every race we are able to celebrate the suffering and joy that has brought us to this special moment.
Nothing for me feels better than my music resonating through my body. Nothing is as rewarding as training and racing. Folk music and triathlon make me feel alive.
This is my motivation.

While meditating 0n my "why" for IMKY I came the realization that I do this because it makes me happy. I don't always sing perfectly and races sometimes bring disappointment. But one thing I know is that playing folk music and triathlon make me happy.

I am planning a lot of gigs and races for 2008. I am planning to do what makes me happy!