Sattelite Beach's #1 Fan

My trip is nearing its end. I have three full days of training left before I leave on thursday morning. I'm not sure I've had my fill yet. I'm comfortable here, and training happens to be fantastic. Each practice is more exciting than the last, and I feel like I've taken large strides in my progress.
There is nothing for me to worry about here. I just paddle, read, write, and play on the computer. What could be better?

Paddling here is truly a taste of heaven. The canals are beautiful and the weather is unbelievable. I missed Florida. I spent six months here in '05 and I forgot how much I enjoyed it.

I always thought of myself as someone who would have to live near a huge metropolitan city. At this point, I might have to take that back. Its been so pleasant living in such solitude that I think I might enjoy it for the long term. As long as I had interests that I was pursuing I think it would be cool.

Crazy Energy Kayak Muffin Recipe

2 c Whole Wheat Flour

1 c Oatmeal

1/4 c canola oil

1/2 c shredded carrots

2 tsp baking powder

1/4 c Flax meal

1/3 c brown sugar

4 eggs

raisins and walnuts to your hearts desire



Mix everything in a big glass bowl. Stir until your forearms get sore. If you're out of shape then do two to three sets, or until everything looks mixed together.

Put those little muffin papers in a muffin pan. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Fill muffin cups pretty full and bake for 15-20 minutes.

They are a little bland....but are a great pre workout mixture. Spread a little peanut butter and honey on top and you'll be set for at least 10k!!

Cupid Who?

My mom arrived this morning at about 11am.
She was sitting on the dock drinking coffee when I rolled in from my 12k paddle. I quickly showered, made oatmeal with walnuts and raspberry yogurt and joined my mom.
We chit chatted a bit; it was lovely. She happened to mention, this guy (we will call him Tyrone.) who she dated years ago. Our directionless small talk quickly took a u-turn.
My mother got fairly emotionally attached for a relationship that wasn't very involved. She stared down the canal and began to contemplate.
"I tend to be really attracted to men who-"
I cut her off and said "Unattainable?"
"Heh, yes but that's not what I was going to say. I'm attracted to brilliant men."
Tyrone happened to be trilingual and very accomplished in his field of work (Law).
"Were you in love with him?" I asked abruptly, realizing it was slightly intrusive to ask such a question so forwardly.
She didn't hesitate and answered "Yes, desperately."
She sighed "What a waste of an emotion."

Those are my Valentine's Day thoughts.

Learning to Roll Over

Finally, I'm enjoying a change in scenery. It feels lovely already. I can smell the ocean and there is a bit of humidity in the air. It's a nice change to Chula Vista's June gloom in February.

I was sitting in the San Diego Airport and as the plane was boarding I thought about not getting on. I could just call Jen and have her pick me up and pretend I was never supposed to come here.

Although it may sound like a vacation coming here, it's not. The training is going to be very hard and I will have endless amounts of time to myself. Time to myself is pleasurable at first. However, it's also somewhat confronting. You don't have any distractions and noise to shield you from the truth. After you run out of things to research on the Internet, get tired of watching TV, run out of books to read, and stop posting picture son myspace you are left with your thoughts.

I think it's important to be left with your thoughts, in hopes of sorting them out. However, sometimes the time alone plays tricks on them. Out of boredom you become more dramatic and change the meanings of the simplest thoughts.

The last time I trained in Melbourne I was healing a broken heart. I didn't realize that's what I was doing until now. I trained, ate, slept, and relived an entire relationship and break-up over and over again. Yeah, it's not the healthiest thing probably, but it did help me focus a lot of aggression on my paddling.

I hope this trip doesn't turn out to be another pity fest. I don't think I could tolerate the melodrama of it. I've already gotten over the initial depression that initiated my trip here. I do see the light at the end of the tunnel; it continues to get brighter. Therefore, I refuse to let this be a pity fest. Instead, I will treat it as a rebirth, a refocus, and a chance to recreate my old life anew.

You can't teach an old dog new tricks. Well first of all, I'm a firm believer that you can. Second, I'm not old yet.

My Bitter End

I started working at the Bitter End in October. It was purely by chance that I started there. My boss saw me outside and commented on my bulging biceps which ended up getting me a job checking IDs outside.

Before I started working there, I visited a few times. I showed up in cargo pants, with my floral button up tied casually at my waste. I had a few Coronas and laughed at stupid guys trying to pick me up. I remember meeting Richie Rich and his gym buddy. In an attempt to pick me up, he told me his friend and him hung out because they were both wealthy and had money to spend. I laughed in his face and sarcastically scolded him for speaking to people in such a manner. I don't think he ever really got what I meant. After I began working there I continued to see them every weekend drinking expensive shots and never really meeting any attractive girls. I thought that those two were a trailer to the other gold diggers and gold diggees that I would be working with and providing excellent customer service to.

I did meet my share up drunk ass wannabes, ass-holes, alcoholics, and clubbers. However, overall, I was wrong. I met a few people that provided some powerful insight and unknowingly suggested a few anti comfort zone practices to challenge myself with in my professional and personal life. I read few good books (Extraordinary Minds and Maiden Voyage) that were lent to me by a bartender and they substantially helped me through a few down weeks I've had. I also created a small social group outside of the normal athlete pool I choose from. Surprisingly, some of them left a mark on my life.

I couldn't help but feel really sad driving home after my last night catching fake IDs. I know I'm making the right decision by leaving and in a sense,I'm somewhat over the scene. Yet, I will undoubtedly miss the stories I came home with, the people I worked with, and I might even slightly miss the power of turning ass holes away because they're not wearing the right attire.

Every situation makes you grow as a person, and no matter how remedial working at a club is, I learned from it. Even if what I learned was that working at a club, no matter how much fun it is, isn't a conducive environment for what I'm really about.

I am not, nor ever was, really into drinking, or partying, or looking too cool for everyone. Even if did I project the image really well with a splash of my own style.

I am hardly looking down on the night life industry. In fact, after working there, I have a lot more respect for people that do. But by working there, I think people may have a tendancy to get sucked into that scene. Definitley not in all cases.
My point is, I have high expectations for myself. I don't want to just be around for someone elses entertainment. I want to help people, inspire people, or influence people to create better lives for themselves. Obviously, I would hope to do that in any situation I'm in. However, I know I have more to offer then wearing belly shirts and catching fake IDs.

In honor of stepping out of my comfort zone, I'm through with the Bitter End at least for the time being. When you flirt with something you know isn't right for you, even if it is fun, you don't leave space for the universe to provide what is right for you. I knew that all along, I guess I was just blinded by having so much fun.

Hal Rossoff

Mis Fotos De Espacio

First let me begin by saying how thankful I am for myspace. I know some of you consider yourselves above myspace. You may also think of myspace as the bacteria growing inbetween your toes or the New Jersey of the internet. However, myspace has ultimately brought people closer together. It remains one of the few, free, simple, pleasures I enjoy everyday.

You can call me a myspace addict. I check it and recheck it hoping my stalkees have messaged me. When my stalkers write to me I pretend to be disgusted and freaked out, even though I secretly enjoy it.

Lets not kid ourselves though, what I really like about myspace is its pictures. Jen and I spend entire afternoons taking pictures in the shower, on the balcony, and at the pool to get those perfect ab shots. We've expanded our horizons a little; now we are taking field trips to capture photos of our exciting lives. If we didn't have exciting lives before, now we do, just to show you on myspace!

Me: "I want to learn to sail. Yeah, I want to go sailing."
Jen: "My mom sails."
Me: "Are you serious? Could she take us? Would it cost anything?"
Jen: "No she's a member of the mission bay sailing club or something, so she could totally take us."
Me: "Oh that's so exciting! How about on Sunday?"
Jen: "Yeah probably!"
Me: "Oh Jen, think of the myspace pictures we'll get!!!!"
Jen: "Oh my god yeah! We can get them of us out on the boat in our bikinis!"

I don't know if I was more excited about sailing or the pictures I would get sailing.

Forget myspace addict, I think I'm a myspace loser.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

It's been weeks and I finally had a good practice this afternoon. I'm not sure if it was mental, physical, or both but on the water, I've been feeling like a steaming pile of shit.

The training center is burning me out. I'm hardly ever by myself. When I am, my mind is just as noisy as my company. Sometimes I just want to have dinner in quiet. But the dining hall is always packed. I feel like I'm living in my email account and I'm constantly being bombarded with spam. I'm always approached with volunteer opportunities or invitations to focus groups. All I would like to do is enjoy my green tea soy misto in silence.

I miss home. I miss having my own kitchen. I miss playing my music and watching what I want to watch on TV. Yeah, I'll admit it, I don't like sharing. Kindergarten was the only grade I went to and somehow I missed all the sharing is caring lessons.

I had an interesting conversation with one of my team mates last night. She is a close friend of mine, but we don't spend very much time with each other. We have very different training styles so we tend not to do workouts together.

We talked about our team, and she mentioned how we really need to unite and push each other more than we do. She talked about how its much easier to race and train when you're doing it for someone other than yourself.

It sort of struck a nerve with me. I realize I like to do things by myself and for myself; by making that choice I think I am dampening the experience.

Most of the time I'm surrounded by people and I still end up feeling lonely. Maybe what I'm looking for is right here. There are a million people here in my same position and maybe all I need to do is make them my family. Maybe, the team mates who I hate training with are my blessing in disguise.

It's just something for me to think about.