2009 – My Year of Unemployment

Today marks the end; in a few hours the book will close on 2009.  Yearning for better times further down the road, it is virtually unavoidable to avoid looking back, sneaking a quick peek into the rear view mirror, reflecting upon what has been and what has not. 

Like many, I have my own thoughts on 2009 and I suppose it should come as no surprise that upon musing, I find myself struggling to assign proper words to capture all that was – and all that was not for me over the past 365 days.

As a kid, the concept of time was often mysterious to me, but now as an adult, the elusive nature of time is better understood.  I now see how it is that rhythmically, time has a clever way of reinventing itself into something different.  Shrewdly, with skills akin to that of a practiced elder, Father Time has a way assembling weeks from a few days all for the purpose of creating a month.  And jus like that, before you realize it, and without unnecessary bravado, Father Time has amassed enough months to unfold yet another a year. 

I never understand how it is that planning for the year ahead can seem like such a long time, yet that same year will pass before you realize that it has come and gone.

As the current year is brought to an end, I cannot believe that I’ve been without work for all of it.  How is it possible; where did the time go? 

And so it is for me in 2009, the year that has at times felt painfully slow, perhaps deliberately unhurried, but as evidenced by the New Year rapidly approaching, has already come and is anxiously awaiting to exit.

It’s almost impossible for me to think about my year of unemployment without asking hindsight-like questions of myself. 

Essentially, my unemployment began when Kelly and I decided to leave Chicago in order to relocate to Washington.  In most situations, resignations are followed by a two-week transitional ‘notice’ period; as it was, my transition was fifteen months.  In retrospect, the ill timing of our move is obvious, coinciding with a pending recession of historical nature. 

I often ask myself what if we stayed? 

Of course, remaining simply would have meant trading one set of wants for another.  I love living in the Pacific Northwest and question why we delayed the move as long as we did.  Kelly and I wanted out of Chicago just as badly as I now want a job. 

Sometimes I wonder is it better to be living unhappily in one place with a job, or completely satisfied in another without?  In actuality, the question is moot, as I suspect that had we stayed in Chicago, I’d still be in possession of my former job yet longing to live elsewhere.

I also ask myself what if I had looked for work locally with more aggressive fervor?  You see, upon relocating I was offered a great opportunity to work remotely, but without any long-term commitments.  I loved the arrangement and the accompanying assignments, and consequently did not look for local employment with the devotion I could have. 

Was I foolish?  Was it reckless to maintain such enthusiasm for my remote work arrangement?  I don’t know, I suppose it’s hard to say really.  I loved the work and the people; shouldn’t that count for something?

Often, like last night, I dream about my former life - one inclusive of gainful employment.  Like most, my dreams contain lots of fantasy and other nonsense, but lately also painful reminders of what was, and now is not.  

Usually, the setting for my dreaming is the workplace.  Not always my former office per se, but an office setting nonetheless, often complemented with former co-workers or colleagues. 

I suppose there is no denying the obvious, my dreams are simply the manifestations of feelings and concerns buried deep within my thoughts and subconscious.  Fears and other reservations I carry around like baggage and burdens inexplicably linked with unemployment.

Earlier this year I thought mostly about and focused my efforts on the pursuit of securing additional professional credentials to supplement my work experiences.  Beyond that I looked forward to possibly enjoying some time off over the summer. 

Perhaps I was naïve; maybe I should have been more careful about what I wished for.  Suddenly, my time off has transformed.  Days have become weeks, then became months, and now have become a year.  

At the moment, here I sit just a few hours shy of a new year.  For me it is bittersweet that 2009 is almost complete.  At times the year has been very good, other times not so much. 

All the same, one thing nags at me … for the life of me, I do not know where the time went nor how it passed by so quickly. 

What I do know is that tomorrow will bring a new day.  Just like always, Father Time will continue to amass a collection of days, unassumingly assembling the year that is to come.

A year is a long time; I wonder what experiences lie ahead that I cannot yet see.

Beautiful Civia

It's no secret that I have a love of bicycles. Marveling of functional simplicity, the right bike can be beautiful and utilitarian – both a transporter from here to there and a piece of art, all at the same time.

Atop a bicycle with wind whooshing past a childish and giddy grin, meandering about the asphalt road is a homeopathic remedy every person should experience. It simply doesn’t get any better.

And so it was that I began the quest of identifying a new bike for my wife Kelly. Yearning to join my desire in eschewing the need for an automobile, Kelly concluded that a new bike – one appropriate to the task of routine errands and travels, would be a welcomed treat.

The criteria was simply really, the bike had to be hassle-free, capable in year-round weather typical of the Pacific Northwest, and of course, must be strikingly gorgeous.

Enter the Civia Loring.

After a ridiculously over-engineered process of review, I suggested to Kelly that she saunter over to a local bike shop. There, she could have a look and get aquatinted with her future ride.

As I suspected, Kelly was no match for the Civia - it was love at first site.

And who can blame her really. With form following functionality, Minneapolis based Civia offers the Loring to be art disguised as a commuter/errand bike.

Generally, I’ve never been overly impressed with any of Kelly’s bikes – that is, they have been solid and functional; nothing more and nothing less. The same cannot be said of her new bicycle.

Simply, the Civia Loring is a spectacular eye-catcher. I’m ashamed to admit my jealousy. Of course, Kelly deserves such a jewel, but still…

In Search Of the Perfect Water Bottle

Lately, I've been spending a lot of time reading bike-related blogs. Such activity has been inspired - in part - by my desire to significantly curb usage of my car in 2010. I never would have guessed such a variety of commuting and other 'lifestyle' bike websites exist, but trust me, there are many.

And so it is, that more and more I find myself riding my commuter/errand bike quite a bit. In fact, I've really become quite "anti-car" over the past couple months as I go about completing my errands or when taking trips into Seattle.

Taking inspiration from a guy we know who's goal is to fill his pick-up gas tank no more than three times annually (although he does loan the truck to others who often fill the tank in exchange for usage), Kelly and I are aiming to commit ourselves to a similar limitation. While we have not yet finalized what our exact gas tank goals will be for next year, we are activity debating what is a realistic target. I'll keep you posted on our decision.

In the meantime, all this time in the saddle has prompted my search for the perfect water bottle. I know that such a pursuit is quite silly, especially since I probably have upwards of twenty bottles in my kitchen cupboard. Regardless, I continue seek a commuting/errand bottle companion - one that that doesn't boldly advertise to some race or bike shop.

With this goal in mind, you can probably imagine my excitement when I came across the 'humping bunnies' water bottle (courtesy of Cannondale).

Humping Bunnies water bottle

Seriously, how funny is that bottle? At $5.50, the bottle's price point is reasonable, and without question, the humping bunnies is has immediately ascended itself as my leading contender - the bottle all others will be judged against.

BI Runners

Shortly after moving to BI, I hooked-up with a local group of runners, unoriginally known as BI Runners.  Now, the better parts of eighteen months later, my Sunday mornings have involved a trip to a local bakery. 

BI Runners is loose group of runners comprised of varying ages and differing speeds, who meet at Bainbridge Bakers every Sunday.  The ‘usuals’ consist of a diverse and eclectic collection BI resident runners, most of whom I probably would have no other logical reason for association. 

I’m lucky to have connected with this group as they are a great group of people.

The unofficial, official run rarely begins on-time at the designated hour of 7am, but there is never any doubt that upon completing the morning run, all attendees will secure a coffee and pastry and enjoy some post-exercise conversation.

delicious desserts and pastry awaits

It’s been wonderful meeting and running with the BI Runners; just another reason why I love living on Bainbridge Island.

Swim. Bike. Run.

About twelve years ago I was talked into registering for the Chicago Triathlon, the largest multisport event in the world.  As the event approached, I found myself intimidated by the challenges of the combined swim, bike, and run effort.  Sadly, in the end I was a coward; I sold my entry to someone else.

Approximately five-thousand people partook in the race that day; I was not one of them.

But a few years later, I did muster the courage to again sign-up for a triathlon.  I told myself there would be no walking away; this time I would finish the race, which I did and I was instantly hooked.

And so it was, a small race in rural Illinois now serves as the anchor for what is my favorite pastime, my passion, the sport of triathlon.

I’ve never forgiven myself for selling that Chicago Triathlon slot.  I’ve gotten so much enjoyment from triathlon over the years, and had I not sold that spot, I could have even more memories.

As I headed into my third year of competing, I decided I would buy a proper Time-Trial bicycle.  Commonly known as TT bikes, these rigs fit and handle differently from their road bike cousins, in that the frame angles distribute the rider into an aggressive, more aero position.

TT bikes are meant for one thing – speed.  Generally, a TT bike handles poorly and is heavier than a standard road bike, but under optimal conditionals, a TT bike is as comfortable as it is fast. 

My TT ride is a Trident, handmade by a small frame builder in Maine - Aegis bicycles.  In the world of high-end bikes, my 2003 frame is ancient.  Many would argue that she is better suited for a museum than on a racecourse.  But I love this frame and as much as I covet a newer, sexier ride, I simply cannot let go of my Aegis.  

There is often an odd attachment between a person and their bike.  I have many bikes, but my TT bike is special, I hold particular fondness for her.  Often affections like the one I describe are strengthened with emotional glue, better known as memories, of which I could fill a library if I choose to document all of them.

For me, this bike represents my first ‘high-end’ bike, a milestone of sorts I suppose.  The purchase receipt reads just over $3,300 and I remember thinking that amount was too high, that I was crazy to spend so much for a bike.  I debated long and hard about that purchase, mainly was it wise to spend that much.  Doubts crammed my thoughts, but in the end, I decided that I would not let uncertainty and fear drive my actions as it did in that Chicago Triathlon a few years earlier.

I laugh now.  Not only to I cherish this bike, over the years I’ve continued to pour heaps of money into this ride, replacing every piece of equipment from that original purchase – less the frame, fork, and headset.  Today, I posses an insurance binder for double what I initially paid.  I would have never anticipated such a thing.

For eight years this bike has been a faithful companion, like an old friend – there for me.  I’ve peddled this machine for hundreds of hours, equating to thousands of miles.  Be it in a race or simply a training ride, my Aegis has served as catalyst for great conversation and powerful introspection.    She is battle tested and I have an unquestionable trust in her ability and companionship.  There is no denying I love this machine.

I’m sure there will come a day when I am forced to retire my Aegis, a sad day that will be.  Of course I could never sell her.  But until then, I am quite certain that my unfailing partner will be there for me as I call for her.