At the bar after the ride, some of them were still surprised that I had hung in there and completed the entire 43 miles. I was overweight, slow, and I didn’t have the fancy bikes they had. Although it wasn’t at all meant to be malicious or demeaning, when they doubted me during the ride, I started to doubt myself too.  I started to doubt my ability to even do the full 50 miles during the actual MS Ride, and wondered if I had finally bit off more than I could chew. What was I thinking? I’ve ridden between 18 and 23 miles three times now since late April. And here I was, trying to ride 50 miles, attempting to keep up with people who take spin classes during the week?

I’ve always been a fighter. Back in 1992-1994 at CHSN when I lived in Rockland, I took AP courses in Bio, English Language, and American History. When I took the AP American History in my junior year and AP English Language in my senior year, I didn’t immediately perform well. Both respective teachers, accustomed to working with the “smart” kids, suggested a few early months into the classes that I should drop, and move into the Honors version instead. Both times, I was devastated. I liked being in the courses. I was pushing myself, and I was learning.  I didn’t want to drop and give up. I’m a fighter.

Maybe the teachers were reluctant to have me waste their time and my time. Maybe they felt it would just be better for me. Instead, for both classes, I opted to stay late every week after school to work on practice essays and assignments with my respective AP teachers. Seriously, every week. In the end, after the doubts, I passed both AP exams with a “3″ score, which meant I passed. Both of my doubting teachers were surprised and proud of me. I’m a fighter.

On this ride, I was being doubted and doubting myself. Yes, it’s true that I’m not currently as fast or as young as I used to be. I’m 34 years old, I don’t have they energy to stay up late anymore, and my body is more creaky. But so what? Some things don’t change. I’ve been calling this “The Year of the Turnaround.” I have been adamant about going back to basics, and focusing on improving myself. Being true to myself. Being who I am. After all this time, I felt that I had not been true to who I was, what I am capable of, or achieving what I wanted in life. I had stagnated under the weight trying to raise two young children with my wife, and maintaining a house, and all the new expenses. It’s been a daunting task for both of us these past five years.

Five years later, the stress is beginning to lift for us, and we’re happier now. The kids are getting easier to manage, and we’re getting things done. This year is the year of the comeback. I call it “The Year of the Turnaround.” My wife and I are finally focusing on taking care of ourselves, enjoying life a bit more, and smiling. We’ve been going out more, got the house painted, and been cleaning the clutter and detritus that has accumulated over five years. Personally, I want to return to being the man I used to be, and that includes getting back in shape.

So when these people on the Sunday ride started doubting me, it felt like a setback. I doubted myself and what I was trying to do. Trying to improve. Trying to be. I could have given up, taken the easier route, and let them go on ahead, while I should turn around. I’m happy to say declare that some aspects about myself never changed. I never stop fighting. I hung in there. I did it at my own pace, but I rejoined the group, and I made it to the finish line.

Don’t call it a comeback, I’ve been here for years. I’m a fighter.

Joel Ipe, Danger Seeker!

I’m of two minds about working from home. I do appreciate the option when circumstances inhibit you from being in the office, such as sick kids, contractors coming over, etc. Nothing prevents you from working, and it provides an employee with flexibility. What’s the alternative? A wasted sick or vacation day.

I used to have an employer who didn’t trust employees with working from home, due to the fears that they wouldn’t do work while at home. We had laptops, remote access, and, you know, work to do, but management was afraid of the possibility that the staff would be home watching Maury. In my opinion, it was an irrational fear. With my current employer, the flexibility makes sense, and it works for many of my colleagues.

That being said, for the 2-3 days a week that I have been home to work, it’s been a little lonely. When you’re not in the office for a stretch of a few days in a row, I have found it lonely to not have other colleagues to see, work with, or even simply to chat with. On a vacation day, you can sit and watch tv, or run errands, and be happy in your jeans and sneakers. When I’m working from home, the tv is off, and I’m sitting there in an empty house, and you feel isolated. It isn’t even that I could take a drive at lunch, since I’ve got no ride.

The days I’ve come back to the office have been nice, since I can interact with living, breathing individuals. The three weeks are almost up, so I’ll be glad to take a break from being at home, and get back out there with the rest of society.

Well I remember. I remember don’t worry.
How could I ever forget, it’s the first time, the last time we ever met.
But I know the reason why you keep your silence up, oh no you don’t fool me.
The hurt doesn’t show; but the pain still grows.
It’s no stranger to you or me.

And I can feel it coming in the air tonight, Oh Lord…

In the context of my life right now, it should mean nothing, but I’m having trouble sorting out my emotions.  At the gym tonight, I heard the Beatles song “Let It Be”, and I thought it was good advice. It’s most likely going to be a few days, so bear with me if I seem morose.

[Thanks to my friends who don't know what's up, but know something is up, and are trying to cheer me up.  Your efforts are much appreciated. I'll get through this -- just give me some time.]

When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

And when the brokenhearted people living in the world agree,
there will be an answer, let it be.
For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see,
there will be an answer, let it be.

Let it be, let it be, …..

And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me,
shine until tomorrow, let it be.
I wake up to the sound of music, mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be, …..

Reporter Raakhee Mirchandani & her fiancee

An article by Raakhee Mirchandani, a features reporter for the New York Post. I came upon a mention of the article (dated March 14 2009) from Anna John’s HERstory blog, and it took me some time to locate the original article — Melting Not – Why Young People Like Me Started Dating Within Our Race.

Interesting article, which is similar to, I think, a few others, and partly my own.  I was open to dating non-Indians back then, but I knew there was something in my heart a little special about that exciting, pretty, Indian woman who later became my wife.  Everyone has to find their own “someone special”, and I do believe that you can only be happier when that special someone shares some of your interests, understands where you come from, and what’s important to you.

Again, I’m not a person who subscribes or preaches that for “You have to marry someone from the same race!” for the ultimate relationship happiness. That’s something people from my parents’ generation has always chanted. However, if you are both coming from the same culture, you are already starting the foundation on a relationship from the same core value — be it spiritual, cultural, or whatever. For me, finding someone who could also appreciate some good gulab jamun or a masala dosa (not to mention being very funny) really hits you.

I think the same applied to my wife, but you can always ask her for her side of the story. She’ll tell you that I was a jerk, but she’s just talking about today.

First order of business, I celebrated.  I bought steaks on Sunday, in preparation for a celebratory dinner.  Monday night, I marinated them, and had them ready for some grilling.  Tuesday night, I asked a friend for more tips on grilling, as I didn’t want to screw up my steaks.  Too late.  I’m not sure what happened, but it all went awry. 

The good news was that the mashed potatoes and the mixed veggies made inside the house before grilling the steaks came out great. However, once I broke out the grill, it went downhill. The left burner wasn’t working properly, so I had the middle and right only to use. I had them up on high to get the grill to 400 degrees.  I put the burgers and steaks on, and came back in 8 mins to flip the steaks and burgers in 8 mins, but they had mostly charcoaled to a crisp on one side.  Out of four steaks and three burgers, one steak was pretty bad, but the other 3 steaks were salvageable.  The burgers were charcoaled to cinders.

Part of the problem was probably that I was trying to grill by a dim outdoor light and a flashlight. Once the steaks were medium-well, I brought them in, and my wife and I spent some time slicing off the charcoaled portions. Still edible, but not the greatest.  I had to throw out the fourth steak (the most charcoaled), and all of the burgers. It was a learning experience, as I’ve never grilled steaks in the dark before. I was a bit depressed, but my wife cheered me up, and we later ate ice cream and watched TV on the couch after the kids went to bed. This week, I gotta check out what’s wrong with the left grill burner.  Next time, I’m going to grill when there’s still light outside.  Grilling by flashlight wasn’t fun.

Second order of business, I took today (Wednesday) off. It was a wonderful day of unstructured time. I dropped the kids off late (9am), ate breakfast while watching TV, and chilled out.  However, in just a short while, I remembered that I’m not a “do nothing and enjoy it” type of person. I get bored, listless, and generally…. feeling guilty.

I did some handyman (handy husband?) stuff in the kitchen to fix and organize the drawers/cabinets that had loose knobs — no easy feat as you have to empty and take apart the drawers to tighten the knobs.  Since I was doing that anyway, my wife had recommended last night that I clean them up while I’m at it.  I did that too. Organized the junk in the drawers that have accumulated like detritus since we moved here in 2005.  I had fun using my cordless drill/driver.

I also vacuumed, reloaded the dishwasher, cleaned up the stove, removed all the infant stuff we don’t need anymore, laundry, took out the trash and recycling, and some other stuff I think. I also made dinner before I picked the kids up in the evening! It was a busy afternoon, and that’s how I like it.  I really do enjoy my free time when I’m accomplishing something!

It all depends on what you want, and what you want to pay for.  I wasn’t aware of all the psychological and marketing thought that goes into the location of an outlet store, the pricing, the discounting, etc. Maybe I’ll take that with a grain of truth.  In the end, I’d still follow the recommendations the author lists:

• Pay attention to details.
• If you don’t know, ask.
• Research prices before you go.
• Deepen the discount.
• Check the clearance racks.

I find that I like Brooks Brothers, and have been shopping for my work clothes there since I starting working out of college back in ’99.  However, I don’t like to pay the outrageous prices at the regular stores.  I find the “346″ brand pretty good (or “good enough for me”) quality at more reasonable prices. I bought my first two suits for work back then, and they’ve been great quality.

I compare that to college, when I would blink, and the semester would be half over.  First day of class.  Blink, mid-term exams. Blink, final exams. Blink, the summer was here. Blink, new school year. How the heck did that happen?

Life seemingly slowed down a bit once I was out in the workforce.  It was a busy time, but it seemed as if life was proceeding at its own normal pace.  There was none of this “Where did the weekend go?” nonsense.

After I got married, and the kids came, I’m not even going to bother stating the weekends passing by quickly.  The months and years were whizzing by at “Ludicrous speeed.” I will think back to some event, and I’ll realize that it was, oh, 2007.  I’ll then proceed to be shocked that, wait, that was two years ago. How can two years feel like last year? I wonder if the rest of my life is going to be like this? I’ll start talking to other people about how “Before you know it, the kids will be all grown up.” And I’ll become that grumpy older guy at the office who’s always complaining, and disliking all the new kids.

Conceivable? The way time is whizzing by, probably so. I’m not complaining or freaking out here.  I’m just stating the obvious, and how shocked I am every day.