Ben Collins

  Not Gonzaga. Garfield High School, which is where I spent four wonderful years. If you want to get an idea of what my high school was about, rent the movie Heart of the Game. It’s a documentary about the cross town rival HS basketball program and it’s an inspiring movie. But they also show some scenes at Garfield, and their description of us as being ghetto is pretty accurate.

No more. Garfield just reopened it’s doors after a two or three year renovation that cost $107 Million. I haven’t been by to see, but I think Quincy Jones and even Jimi Hendrix (both went to my high school) would be just as proud as I am to see what a great job the city of Seattle did on this project.

I bet the bathrooms even have doors on the stalls now!

[photos:

Top: Ben and Noah after Graduation

Middle: The old front of Garfield HS

Bottom: Yes, I really did wear that jacket everywhere. And no, I really don’t look any different. And yes, our school was really ghetto on the inside.]

I signed up to teach a spin class at U of Washington. It starts in a week, so I have until Tuesday to build a repository of good spin music. Anyone have suggestions? (What I mean is PLEASE HELP ME!!!)

I’m also trying to figure out what I should be for Halloween this year. The only rule is it has to be better than my cookie monster outfit last year.

OOh! and check out the new comment notification feature, so after you leave a comment (hint hint to all you silent readers) you can be notified via email when someone else responds.

If everyone else didn’t suck, life would be easier. Ok, maybe that’s a little harsh, but sometimes the interactions I have during morning lap swim (or lap swim at any time really) can put me in a bad mood. Here is a short list of things that annoy me at the pool: (if you disagree, or feel that you may fit nicely into one of these items, please leave a comment and help me understand.)

1. Being told I’m too fast for lap swim, or that I should swim slower to accommodate other people who are in the fastest lane.
2. People who don’t cut their toe nails and kick you as you pass.
3. People who can’t swim butterfly, but try.
4. People who can swim butterfly, but refuse to do a single-arm stroke when they see you passing somebody in the other direction.
5. Breaststrokers in the fast lane.
6. Slow centerline swimmers.
7. Slow swimmers with bad form in the fast lane. (slow swimmers with good form are WAY easier to deal with).
8. People who swim sort of fast, but do it with such outrageously bad form that it’s impossible to get by them in a crowded lane.
9. Knee kickers (These are people who kick from the knee, rather than the hip, it doesn’t actually propel them forward, but it does increase the likelihood of me getting kicked in a way that will draw blood (see number two).)
10. Antisocial swimmers who won’t talk to you for two seconds to negotiate some lane etiquette.
11. People who know you’re doing a sprint set, but don’t ask when you’re leaving before pushing off in front of you.
12. People who ask when you’re leaving and then push off three seconds before you anyway.

That’s about all I can think of right now. What spurred this on was Saturday morning’s workout. I went to the Greenlake pool, where Brian Davis and I used to swim almost every morning. I haven’t been there to swim in months, but I slept through the 7am lap swim I normally go to on Saturday. I brought a set that was planned to the minute, so that I would have only about 120 seconds to spare in the 90 minute lap swim session. I was in the lane marked “very fast”, and flowing through my set when a few people tried to stop me and see if I could change the sendoffs to accommodate them. In December and January I probably would have agreed, but slowing from a 1:15 base sendoff to a 1:25 or 1:30 base sendoff would eat up my 120 seconds in no time, and take away from the purpose of the set. It’s October, and the season’s almost over, so I really can’t stray too far from my plan right now. So I said “no” and kept going. I guess the misunderstanding was that the group wanted the whole lane to do a workout together, and nobody wanted to do my workout. I didn’t really mind, I’m used to staying out of people’s way (or trying to) and going five seconds early or five seconds late every few intervals isn’t the end of the world. I just don’t understand why a group of seven swimmers wouldn’t just go to the masters workout held at the same pool, where 20 other swimmers of similar ability are doing workouts that are similar to what they write for themselves. If the masters group had a lane of people going my pace and doing workouts similar to mine, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Bottom line is, however, everyone that pays admission has the same right to be in the pool. I just don’t want to hear somebody tell me I need to leave because I’m going to fast for the “very fast” lane.

The seven day forecast for Seattle says rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, rain. There might be a “partly cloudy” and a “showers” in there, but those are just to make Seattleites feel better about the looming grey and darkness that will take over the city soon. This forecast is usually the first sign of Fall in the emerald city. Then again, it’s also the first sign of winter, spring and summer. One year it rained 100 days straight (I swam indoors, so it didn’t really matter to me. Plus, I liked driving in the rain because it was easy to make my car do drifts – now I hate driving and prefer to train outdoors.).  Today a storm is blowing through, so I decided to watch a couple episodes of Dexter while I rode my bike indoors. Then the power went out, so I listened to my iPod while staring at a blank screen with no fan on. After that got boring I called Victor, Chris Tremonte and Kevin Collington hoping that I could get a report on Scott Tinley’s Triathlon, which happened to day. Brian Fleischmann won, then Ethan Brown, and Victor Plata was third.  Chris was 10th and Kevin ended up 11th after a rough day. I would have been stoked to race, but at this point I probably would have had an even worse day than Kevin. I’m just happy to be riding my bike again, even if it’s only a limited amount. Loren suggested I just claim victory because nobody that beat me at the race last year showed up this year. True, but this year it rained and was miserable and even with bike splits over an hour the top two times were faster than the Greg’s winning time in 2007. I guess I have my work cut out for me at Tinley’s in 2009.

[Note about the photograph: I love this image, but I can’t seem to figure out who took it. The site I got it from is under construction, but when I figure out the artist, I’ll certainly link to him/her]

I don’t like to write about political events (it doesn’t really fit under the mission statement of my blog), but last night’s VP debate is all that’s on my mind today. I was fired up at the pool this morning, but I had the lane to myself, so I couldn’t even swim butterfly over someone to free up some energy. I know the biggest issues in this election are the war and the economy, but I figure we’re pretty much up shit creak with either candidate on those fronts. What really bugged me last night was the question about same-sex marriage. Biden had a great answer, albeit he avoided the question at first, but insisted that same sex couples should have rights akin to straight couples with regard to taxes, property, and whatever-you-call-it-when-the-spouse-says-let’s-pull-the-plug. Then Palin chimed in the classic telltale of an intolerant [I’m really trying to keep this post PG so I’m not going to write the word I just said in my head], “I am tolerant. And I have a very diverse family and group of friends…” REALLY?! She pulled the “I love [insert minority group here], I have TONS of [repeat minority group] friends.” Really!?! Do you? So you have tons of gay friends? People you consider a positive part of your life, and yet you don’t believe they deserve the same rights as you? What an elitist [in my head I’m repeating that same word from above.]. She probably thinks crying at the end of Brokeback Mountain means she’s “tolerant”.

Bottom line, marriage is a religious ceremony and the government should butt out. Biden doesn’t have to believe in gay marriage, so long as he believes in honoring the rights of couples equally.

Oh, and drilling in Alaska is not the solution to the energy crisis. How about we take all those bright minds that are trying to get into med school and get them to believe that engineering clean energy is just as rewarding of a career path. Pump money into grad schools and math and science programs and spur the economy with high tech jobs that actually help the world. Kind of like my friend Noah who works for NREL (National Renewable Energy Labs). He’s saving the world a lot faster than the average doctor. (Not that I don’t appreciate the handful of doctors I’ve visited the past 5 weeks about my knee, it just that there are bigger problems in the world than my ability to ride a bike.) Ugh, will somebody hire me as a part time mechanical engineer? I want to make the world a better place.

I woke up this morning and said nothing for about 25 minutes, then as I drove into the parking lot of the swimming pool it hit me: September’s over! “RABBIT RABBIT!!” I screamed to no one in particular. That’s right, Rabbit freakin’ rabbit.

Today was supposed to be recovery, but I got a little excited with this double descend set that Victor gave me, and I went kind of fast for a set of nine 300s. At least I consider it fast, I guess Brian Davis would probably call me a big wimp if I told him I was barely under 3:00 in a short course pool. He’s an ass.

Also, this month will be the beginning of the first serious group ride in Seattle. It’s being called the Rocket Ride and being put on by Todd Herriott and HSP. The best part, the ride leaves from Log Boom Park, which is a mile from my house, so I’ll be able to get in a swim and breakfast before I show these jokers how to ride a bike (ok, truthfully, the one time Todd had enough free time to do a hill workout with me I was owned in a way that still hurts to think about.). The ride route will be the same every week, but it will not be published. This is with the idea that people will go as far as they can before being dropped, then will have to come back the next week and try to hold on a little longer. So you have to earn the knowledge of where the ride goes. I hear it’s around 60 miles, but I’ll probably post the map on my Garmin Connect account after I do it on the 18th. Why the 18th and not the 11th (which is the first rocket ride)? Because next week I’m out of town. Which will be SUPER fun, but more on that in a later post.

Ok, I really didn’t think I”d write again before October, but since my last posting I’ve had a change of fate. Unfortunately Aaron Scheidies still has a lost wallet and feels that the universe is conspiring against him, but I had a great weekend.

Aaron stayed last night and we went to a Juju party where everyone brings an object that has brought them bad Juju this year and throws in into a fire. I threw a representation of everything bad that’s happened this year: The complete lack of energy from trying to lose weight by fasting on lemon juice last winter, the bruised heel that kept me from racing fast at Alcatraz, the lack of preparation for the heat in Mazatlan, and the condramalasia in my knee. All those things really sucked (and were probably avoidable if I didn’t lack good judgement), so I burned them.

Today Seattle had one of the sunniest fall days I can remember, I had an awesome bike ride with no knee pain, and I had my best long run since… well… It may have been my best long run ever. And with no knee pain. So, one day at a time with injuries, I’m going to keep babying myself to make sure that the progress I’ve made towards recovery is not reversed by bad choices.

Oh, I also went sailing this afternoon with Brian and his wife Marijana (have talked about her enough on here that I can drop the “his wife” introduction?). I got to drive the boat under two draw bridges, and we made the Fremont bridge open for us, which is surprisingly empowering. Sort of like pushing the button at a cross walk and making all the cars stop just for you – only bigger. We only had about an hour of daylight by the time we were on Lake Union, but it was enough time for a casual sail around Lake Union, during which time we saw the sun set behind Queen Anne Hill and the Space Needle.

So basically I worked out a ton and then my friends made me laugh enough to pump my system full of endorphins. So - though I’m still sad about Troy - I’m not quite so depressed about the month of September. It’s nice to have friends around.

Troy is missing!

We got home Sunday night and haven’t seen him at all. His food wasn’t touched while we were gone. He was in the TV room when my parents left on Friday and that’s the last we’ve heard from him. I’m going to go post pictures at the Sheridan Beach Club and hopefully he’s just camping out at a neighbor’s house.

He’s such a friendly cat that most of the neighbor’s know him, but a week ago he lost his collar, so if he’s with somebody that doesn’t know him they won’t know where to bring him! I miss my kitty.

The problem with posters is that I don’t have any regular pictures of Troy, it’s all funny pictures b/c he’s always doing something funny.

[above: Troy at my 4th of July party in 2004. he doesn't know his limits.]

[left: This is Troy humping my jacket. Yes my room is really that messy, though I have put away my suitcase.]

[lower left: Troy with my brother-in-law, Matthew.]

[lower right: Troy in the bathtub because he likes to be clean.]

Yesterday I moved my sailboat from Tacoma, Washington to Seattle. It’s about a 30 mile trip at most, and I figured worst case scenario was about a 6 hour trip, but with the wind at our backs and a positive mindset I was hoping for much less.

Wrong.  Here’s what Chris Tremonte and I wrote for our blogs while we were stranded in Elliott Bay waiting for Vessel Assist to tow us the last five miles of our 10 hour tour.

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Chris: Rather than just drive back from yesterday’s race in Portland, Ben Collins and I decided to drive to Tacoma and then sail his 27-foot Catalina "yacht" up to its new home in Ballard.  Unfortunately there hasn’t been much wind and the boat only has a 5hp motor.

[Below: Me typing into MS Live Writer on Chris’s laptop. Behind my head is Blake Island.]

Ben: See, a boat’s speed is a direct function of several things, the length of the boat (larger boats can go faster than smaller boats), plus the amount of power that goes into propelling the boat forward. The problem that Chris is introducing is that an absence of wind has forced us to rely on a one cylinder 35 year old diesel engine that I was unable to start until about a week ago. Well, it starts now, but about a half an hour ago smoke started spewing from the cabin of the boat, and Chris started acting a little loony.

Chris: and that’s why we’re stranded here watching the lights come on in downtown Seattle.  But let me go back to how we’ve been underway for seven hours and have only made it to the middle of Elliott Bay.  You see, when we have run the motor today (sadly, most of the time) we were only running it at about half power.  Ben was concerned about gas mileage and we were a bit short on gas.  But even after stopping to refuel at Des Moines, we were still puttering along at maybe 3 or 4 knots.  I made the joke that one of us should get out at Des Moines and walk and we could see who gets to Ballard first.  Sadly it now appears that would have been an easy victory for the walker.

[Left: Blury Seattle skyline. terrible photo]

Ben: I was just explaining to Chris that he should never give up an opportunity for a good story. This, however, is not why we both neglected to charge our cell phones last night, or why I left my GPS in the car, or why around 5pm we decided to say "screw it" and kick this bad boy into gear. No, sadly enough, we set out on our adventure that we would get my new (very used) sailboat from Tacoma to Seattle in under six hours and with as little effort as possible (aside from a few tacks and some sailor lingo). At this point, I’m just thankful it hasn’t been raining yet.

  Chris: the weather has been so nice today that I’m shocked at how few other boats we’ve seen out here.  We saw maybe ten boats on our way up and now we just see each ferry as it almost runs us over.   I suppose that’s what happens when you’re adrift in the middle of the ferry lane.

[Left: this ferry got REALLY close, but Chris’s cell phone died so this was our last photograph of the day.]

Ben: no seriously though, the last ferry to com by was REALLY close. As in museum voice distance. Wait, Seattle Traffic is calling me on the radio (our cells are dead, did I mention that?)…. brb… ok, the vessel assist is on its way, and now Chris and I are taking turns doing a periodic signal toward the boat, and typing in the blog. OK, my turn.

[Below: We’re the tiny black dot in between the freighter and the two other boats. Since out cell phones were dead my parents went to watch us be rescued from the Magnolia Bluff overlooking the bay.]

Chris: neither of has ever gotten Vessel Assist before.  We were wondering whether the Chucklehead Factor of needing Vessel Assist is greater than the comparable factor for roadside assistance.  Vessel Assist is rapidly approaching now.  Gotta go.

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So we made it back safely. Chris got to go through the Ballard Locks for his first time (it’s like a boat elevator that goes from the Puget Sound into the Seattle Ship Canal, which connects to Lake Washington.), but it was with the extra fun of being towed through. We were both very tired and hungry by the time we got in, but honestly, Vessel Assist was WAY faster than that Diesel engine anyway. Oh, and it started raining while we were being towed. So much for lucky weather.

[Above: Chris and I, finally in Seattle and docked.]

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A few months ago I bought a sailboat at a repo auction. It’s like buying a foreclosed house, only a sailboat is way more fun than a house, and costs much less. The boat had basically been abandoned, but is in nearly perfect condition. It’s a 1972 Catalina with a blue hull and a small cabin. I was gone all summer, which prevented me from spending the five hours it took to clean the boat and get the inboard diesel engine running. The main problem was a bit of a catch 22. The boat was moored in Tacoma, about 50 miles from where I live at the north end of Seattle, which is way too far to drive to work on a boat, but I couldn’t move the boat to Seattle until I had worked on it a bit. Had it been in Seattle I would have been sailing months ago, but as is it took me until yesterday to take the boat on its maiden voyage.

I went out with my dad, who helped me get the diesel running, and we figured out the basics of how to operate the boat. The winds were light, so we were able to figure out what we were doing without any stress.

Today I went out with my friend Peter. Peter’s three years of sailing experience with Seattle Yacht Club adds to my two years of summer sailing camp experience to give us a combined five years of experience on boats under 14 feet long. Obviously we’re qualified to take a boat twice as big out on our own (or maybe people like me are the reason Washington will be instituting a new law requiring boat pilots to have a license.).

We sailed out and back and a to and forth, and now I feel confident enough with the boat that next week after Nationals I’m going to make a voyage from Tacoma to Seattle. The tides for Sunday the 21st are such that the current will be heading north starting just before noon, so I figure if I leave Tacoma around 11:30 I can make the trip in 5 or 6 hours. I want to see if I can make it entirely on wind power, but if it’s a light breeze and the sails aren’t full, I won’t hesitate to give it a diesel boost.

Once in Seattle I am going to rename the boat and have a naming ceremony (any excuse for a party). The current name is Isis, which has no meaning to me. I’m taking suggestions, but what I’d really like is something with three layers of meaning. So an obvious double meaning (for instance if I were visually impaired, like Aaron Scheidies – who went a 1:58:30 at the Malibu Olympic Distance Triathlon, a minute faster than our World Record performance in Dallas last October – I could name it See Worthy), but then I want a third meaning that is more of an inside joke where you’d have to know me to get it (bc dot org knowledge is enough).