UNTITLED CHAD DARNELL PROJECT

Like a Backbuilding Tornado

No real news to report.  Executives are saying nice things about me.  A few people have passed but want to meet with me.  More people are interested.  We're waiting on other people.  I believe if I understand corrently what is happening, the studios have weekend reads.

All good stuff.  All very good stuff.  Apparently I have A LOT of meetings being scheduled for next week.  I may have to raid Marcellas' closet.

So I took a spin class today at Eastons.  I went in thinking it was going to be Catie.  Sweet, zenlike Catie.  And it was the nazi... Tori.  I began to whimper, "oh, no, no, no, no."

Tori is awesome.  Halfway through the class I thought I was going to throw up.  She told me if I needed to puke, to go outside on the roof (through the door to the spin room) and use a planter.

The words, "harder!  Faster!  Harder!  Faster!  Come on!  Burn your ass!  Is your ass burning?!  Harder!" are burned in my little brain. 

And there were only TWO of us in the class.  Love Eastons.  Love Tori.

BUT!  I did manage to snap a pic on that damned parking sign.  Explain this to meL  I don't get the NO PARKING ANYTIME, when clearly you can park there for 11 hours OR park there if you have a permit.   I swear the City of West Hollywood only posts signs like this to confuse you.

36 Miles

They lied.  It said "30 Miles."  Nay.  It was 36.

Team Easton (Easton Gym on Beverly) heads up this ride which is through WeHo, Bev Hills, out to the beach and back.  Team Easton rocks.  I'm going to definitely train with them as much as possible.  Easton also offers participants free spin classes.

When Darren and I arrived, I saw Eric Mueller, who I had no idea was doing the ride.  I've known Eric for years.

The ride was simple - done it several times now.  Dean McDermott, Tori Spelling's husband is apparently a member of Team Easton.  Nice guy.

My plans have changed for the afternoon so I have no idea what I'm going to do with myself.  But it will involve eating red velvet cupcakes at some point.

AND... ask and ye shall receive... I'm at $2,600!  Which is $100 over my goal.  Thanks to my wonderful angel and Jacob Glass! 

Thank You!

I just logged in and saw that I have a few more donations!  A huge thank you to Melanie Lynn and Erik Patterson for their donations!  They, along with the fabulous Jerome Gonzales now have me at $1,840.  So I'm just under $700 more to go.

If you find yourself with extra tax refunds or are looking for a way to write off next year - GO HERE AND DONATE!!  Every little bit helps.  And look at it this way - you don't have to train for two more months or sit on a bike for a week in June!

<45 miles

I discovered today that is MUCH HARDER to ride slowly than to go fast.

Darren has been jet setting all over North America for the past month and I have taken over as his personal slave driver/ trainer.  Today was our first ride together in nearly two months.  Since we last rode together, I've gone into the clips, done several "half centuries" and flipped over my handle bars.

I didn't ride last weekend because my body was still in a state of shock from my Cirque du Solei performance the last time I was on the bike.

Today was through Griffith Park, around the studios, up into Glendale, way out to La Tuna, then up and around Montrose, coming back through La Canada and Glendale.

I saw Chad Allen at the premiere for SHELTER (whole other post... go see it.  It's brilliant) and I knew that he was doing the ride because he's the only other rider named CHAD.  Darren and I had discussed doing this ride and Chad was doing it as well.  Chad and Darren also went to school together.

I didn't get much sleep for some reason.  I went to bed at midnight and seven hours should have been plenty.  But I woke up at 5AM in which I apparently was dreaming about the title change for the Hollywood script.  (It's currently titled LUCY FAY'S MAGIC HOUR, but in my dream, I was apparently trying to decide between "DIVA," "THE LEGEND OF LUCY FAY," or "DIVA: THE LEGEND OF LUCY FAY."  I don't know why.  I've never heard or thought about these titles before.)  So I couldn't go back to sleep.

It was cold and at times damp.  The ride itself was rather nice.  Except for one thing:  La Tuna.

La Tuna is a canyon that is straight up hill for five miles.  It makes Mureau look like a speed bump.  I don't know why these training ride leaders will go over the exact same safety speech week after week, go over the exact same details, but then when discussing the ride, NEGLECT pointing out, "by the way, this is five miles straight up hill."

On the one hand, while I would have grunted a lot, I could have been up and over that hill rather quickly.  But Darren isn't in his clips yet, so it took him a lot longer.  And I tried to stay right behind him, until my legs were about to explode from going so slow, so I would shoot ahead and wait for him and the tops of a leveling off.

It also made me realize how conditioned and powerful my legs have become over the past few months.  But going slow nearly killed me.  In fact, going slow was harder than any other ride I've done.  Once I decided to just pass him and wait for him, I ended up passing EVERYONE on the hill.  But once Darren gets his clips, it will be a totally different ride for him as well.

We arrived in Montrose which is like Twin Peaks.  I live less than five miles from it and never been there.  It's beautiful.  We stopped at the Black Cow Coffee Shop for our break and then returned. 

There was a longer ride out to 60 miles, but Darren needed to get back.  There was another stop at the Descano Gardens to look at flowers, but I just wanted to get home, so we kept going.

When we got into Glendale, I made a few short cuts to get us back to our cars faster.

I've spent the rest of the afternoon eating the new thin crust BBQ Chicken pizza from California Pizza Kitchen, passed out in my living room watching BATTLESTAR GALACTICA.  I'm supposed to be in three places tonight, but I just want to sleep. 

Delayed Reactions

So that little fall I took...

I look like an extra from the first fifteen minutes of SAVING PRIVATE RYAN.  I have a bruise on my inner thigh that I swear is a direct imprint of the handle bars.  I have bruises all up and down my legs that I didn't notice until today.

I felt fine Saturday after I got home, other than the hurt wrist.  By Sunday morning my left arm was throbbing.

I woke up this morning and my neck and shoulders were killing me.  I feel like my head is lopsided.

I couldn't go to the gym.  I can move all my limbs, so I know nothing is broken.  It's just a lot of pain.

I swear the it's screwing with my head as well.  I've been in a funk all weekend.

I'll live.

In other news - looks like I may be going to San Francisco next month with Brendan and the guys to do a ride.  I'm just waiting on something to come through.  I'm just hoping that it comes through.  Otherwise it wasn't worth it anyways.

50 Miles

I was supposed to do 75 miles today.  But three things kept me from doing it.

1) The map was wrong.  Twice before we got to mile 10.  Fortunately for me, I was with people who knew where they were going, but I wasn't going to chance doing the 75 mile route and ending up in Nevada because the route was wrong.

2) Charlie, Jon, Ryan and I had plans to do a 10K tomorrow in Griffith Park.  Charlie and Jon have since dropped out, so it's just Ryan and me.  (So I didn't want to completely tire myself out.)

3) Mureau.  The thought of having to go back up Mureau after doing 60 miles killed me. 

The route included options for 25, 50, and 75 miles.  The majority of us did 50.  (I was way too nervous about getting separated from the 75 mile group and taking a wrong turn.)  All roads led back up Mureau, which is a two mile climb in Calabasas that made me cry last time. 

I also had plans for tonight, and I didn't want to be getting home in time to shower and then go out - and the 75 mile ride was going to be long.

The clips really are the difference of night and day.  I'm in very little pain and I kicked Mureau's ass today.  I was up and over that hill in ten minutes and it took me over a half hour the last time.

But the best part?

I flipped over my handle bars.

I can't say I fell... It was more like a stunt as done by a muppet.  There was a tiny bridge less than a mile from the end that was wide enough for two bike riders, but still, very little clearance.

Well, I was apparently invisible to said asshole, or he just thought I was going to levitate over him, because he didn't move, and I swerved to miss him, hitting the wall and somehow by hitting my brakes, sent me over the handle bars and landing on my wrist.

My right foot unclipped somewhere mid-air, but my left foot remained magically intact to the clip.

I may have used language reserved for a David Mamet play in responding to the moron when he asked me if I was "okay."

I was more concerned that I had broken bones, but I was fine.  I had a scratch on my arm, my left forearm aches a little, but that's it.  It scared me more than anything.

41 Miles

Yesterday was the 41 mile training ride and my first time out on the road in the clips.

The good news:  I didn't fall once.  There were a handful of times that I got out of the clip on the right foot and the bike swung to the left and I almost fell to the left, but I was able to clip out before falling.

The bad news:  My shins are killing me.  Killing.  Me.  When you clip out, the "pedal" swings back and around and if you don't move your leg, you get whacked.  And this thing is made of metal, so coming at full force, it's like a lead pipe clubbing your shins.  My shins are bruised black and blue.  And every time it would happen, it would take my breath away it hurt so bad.

And then I slipped on my shoes in the Whole Foods, which was our pit stop and I busted my ass AND my legs went under a metal display, where I whacked my shins again.

So I didn't fall ON the bike.  I fell walking through a grocery store.

We were all over the city.  We started at the Gay and Lesbian Center on McCadden in Hollywood and went up Cahuenga, down Barham (past Universal Studios), turning on Forest Lawn (past Warner Bros), into Griffith Park, then down to Riverside (past Disney, through Toluca Lake - where I nearly met my death by car door - through North Hollywood, Studio City, Sherman Oaks), down Van Nuys Blvd, around a neighborhood, into the pit stop at Whole Foods.

Then up Sepulveda, down Sepulveda (running alongside the 405), to Venice Blvd.  Then Venice all the way back to Hauser then up, back to Hollywood.

It IS a completely different ride with the clips.  I was much faster.  I started off with Jim at the back of the pack, but after ten miles, I felt like I was going too slow.  After the pit stop, I took off with the fastest team.  I matched them spin for spin up Sepulveda, but lost them downhill.  (I haven't figured the aerodynamics of making myself faster going down hill, and frankly, don't think I SHOULD without killing myself).

I found them at Santa Monica Blvd and finished with them.

Aside from my battered shins, I wasn't exhausted.  I was tired - anyone who just rode a bike 41 miles around Los Angeles would be tired - but a fifteen minute nap and I was fine.

I was going to ride this morning, but I went out with Charlie last night and it was late by the time I got home.  (And we lost an hour thanks to Daylights Savings).  But I think from this point on, I'm going to have to train both Saturday and Sundays.

Going Clipless: Take Two

Let's go ahead and get it out of the way.  I fell.  Twice.  And I blame Victoria Beckham.  And yes, it hurt like a bitch and I broke my kick stand.

Last night, went to JD's birthday party at the Standard and went out to Jerry's with Charlie and Jon afterwards.  We stayed out till about 1 AM, so I slept late.

Got up and checked my e-mail, only to learn who won PROJECT RUNWAY.  By accident.  I had plans to watch it after I got the clips on the bike, but no.  Someone decided to share their excitement as to who won.

Went back to Helen's and they switched out my pedals. 

Came home and did as I was told.  I stood up on the bike and practicing clipping in and out of the pedals, while I watched PROJECT RUNWAY. 

That's when I saw special guest judge, Victoria Beckham smile - and it startled me.  She NEVER smiles.  I literally, alone in my house, outloud cried, "she just smiled!" and went crashing to the ground, snapping off my kickstand as I went.

I also have a huge new bump on my knee and a small cut.

About ten minutes later, I fell again.

I had plans to be at a spin class, but I figured, I may as well go to Griffith Park and fall in the grass.

So I loaded the bike up and went out to the park.  And surprisingly, I never fell.  I rode around for about a half hour, so I feel like I can click in, stop and restart.  I'm sure I will fall again.  At some point.  I'm tempted to ride with my rollerblade wrist guards this weekend.

This weekend could be the death of me.  There's a huge ride on Saturday which is all over the valley.

35? Miles

 

Today was my least favorite ride so far.  It was called "The Star Maps" tour, (based on the "Maps of the Movie Stars Homes" which starts in WeHo, then moves through Bel Air, Brentwood, down into Santa Monica, kissing the beach and then coming back.

The riders were hard core.  Like I mean, hard core.  I love my Shifting Gears team with Doreen, Jim and Brendan.  These guys were certainly nice enough, but I missed my old team.  I guess I'm processing like I did in high school... "Oh you HAVE TO start training on both Saturday AND Sunday!  AND during the week!  There are only 14 more weeks."  What was simply advice, my head processed as "you're an idiot if you're not riding 10,000 miles a week.  Why are you even on this ride?"  In my head I wanted to say, "Brendan and Jim would never make me feel stupid!  This is my first time!  Give me a break!"

And we got lost.  After we all got there, they decided to ride up Bundy.  (People outside of LA County will remember this from hours and hours of Dateline specials during the OJ Trial.  Bundy was the road Nicole Brown Simpson lived on and was the road OJ took to get back to his home.)  If we had been OJ, we would be frying in prison, because the lead dog missed a turn and we went up Kenter.  The Bundy addition wasn't on the route slip and even after Tom said a half dozen times, DON'T GET ON KENTER, we did.  I assumed the lead dog realized this and knew a cut through.  Sadly no.   This addition added to our miles.

Eventually we stopped and turned around, seeing as how St. Mary's was not going magically appear on the wrong street.  More hill climbing and we all met up.  Still, nothing, NOTHING was like that hill in Calabasas at the end of that 50 mile.  That is the hill to which all other hills shall be compared.  That hill didn't just kick my ass, it took my name and social security number.

Then it was back down and out to the beach.  Because you have to "hydrate" so much, my bladder was about to explode when we got back to Westwood, so I asked to stop and we took over a Coffee Bean.

Didn't see any stars on this ride, but I did see a girl who looked like Summer Glau, the female Terminator on SARAH CONNOR CHRONICLES.

Today was the last day with the pedals.  I'm going to take the bike tomorrow to get the clips on it, then take a few spin classes so I can practice clipping in and out.  Then take the bike to Griffith Park so I can fall.

I got home, showered, had lunch and passed out for two hours (mainly to slow myself from eating my way through the kitchen).

And now it's off to Trader Joe's.

Going Clipless

My body decided that I would not train 50 miles today.

This was the conversation in bed this morning.  "Hi, good morning, Chad.  No.  Lay your ass back down.  If you still feel the need to work out at 11PM on Fridays, then I'm not moving before noon on Saturday.  So lay back down.  It's warm here.  It's soft here.  That's it.  Good.  Oh, sorry, move that wrapper."

Why is there an empty Balance Bar wrapper in my bed?

"Because I was hungry, dammit!  You work out so late, then make egg whites when you get home and come 4AM, I'm up doing some sleep walking and sleep eating.  Now, seriously.  I really don't want to do another training ride until you get those clipless shoes.  You have no idea the amount of work I have to do.  So help a leg out."

But it's just--

"WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING!?  DOWN!  LAY DOWN!  Listen, you.  I held strong all through this past flu outbreak over the past week, but I'll take you out if you even think about getting out of this bed!  Get the shoes.  We'll talk after that."

So I went back to bed.  Summer called at 9:30 to tell me she was in Savannah and wanted places to go eat.  I eventually rose at 10:30 and caught up on some DVR.

And at 3PM I decided it was time. 

I got in my car and got on the 110 South and sat for a half hour.  I was planning on going to the Helen's Bike Shop in Santa Monica since I know them, but I couldn't take it any longer, and went to the one in Arcadia.  This required about an hour of surface streets, but at least I was moving.

They were very nice.  But they also shared that there are three stages to going clipless.

1) Watch a movie while clicking and unclicking out of the clips, so it becomes second nature.

2) Go to a field and do it, but fall in the grass.  (Why?  Because "YOU ARE GOING TO FALL.") 

3) Hit the street and fall at your first stop sign.  Why?  Because "YOU ARE GOING TO FALL."

I got news for you.  I'm not going to fall.  Why?  Because falling scares the crap out of me. 

And two hundred dollars later, I have the pedals and the shoes.  I didn't take the bike because silly me, I thought the pedals would be easy to put on.  Not even Linc could figure out how to get them on.  So the bike and the pedals go back tomorrow so they can put it together.

I think I will go ahead and do the 30 mile West Hollywood ride tomorrow with the normal pedals, just because I'm afraid to miss a training ride.  Like panic sets in, afraid.

When I did the Dublin Marathon, I trained for the first three months and did not run a block the last three months before the marathon, because ALIAS started back shooting and Fridays were always late nights and the training was on Saturday.  I finished the marathon, but I was beat up.  I had to walk from mile 19-24.  My legs were so swollen that by mile 24, I couldn't stand up.  I would literally walk-walk-walk fall in a puddle.  Get up, walk-walk-walk fall in a puddle.  By mile 25 I considered just rolling like a little log.