2003 A2A Ultra Inline

Athens 2 Atlanta 87-mile team skate

Skating 87 miles of Georgian gentle rolling hills seemed like an unreachable dream at the end of half-distance 1999 A2A. I was happy with my 11.3 mph. Actually, I didn't care about the speed; I was just glad I didn't get on the SAG wagon when my legs really wanted to. I also remember some faces come up the last hill before Dacula. They reminded me of patients passing kidney stones. How could a normal human do another 38?


_The Dream
The impossibility made it a cool challenge. I told Jack Neal I'd do the full distance with him the year he turns 60. I imagined I'd roll in Piedmont Park around dusk with all kinda foot and muscle pains, and I would understand why people cried at end of Iron Man. I hoped I would be in time to watch Jack claim his age group prize. But I thought the more likely outcome was I'd send him an email in March and say I couldn't train because of work.

3 layoffs and 4 years later, I became a more dedicated skater. I committed to skate A2A with Jack and other TX Flyers. I was skeptical about the team approach: I couldn't imagine Mike and Chris Ritter slow down enough to skate with us mortals. But I had nothing to lose; it beats my original plan of trying to hang on to my 60-year-old friend for as long as I can.


_The Preparation
The team made everything easy. I didn't have to worry about when and where to train. I had a team to practice going down the hill with only 1 person with clear view of the road. I was forced to train at low heart rate. I figured out how much fluid I need per hour and how much food I could tolerate. The only thing we didn't go over was how to pee, which I learned from Eddy.

Brenda took care of all the details: training and travel schedules, flights, hotels, van rental, restaurants, and even supermarkets. All I did was showing up and whining about having to get up early. 9-time participant Fred flew to the event just to support the team.


_Pre-race Dinner
I was a little down Saturday night at Chilli's, where I had pre-race dinner with Jack in 99. Jack's training this year didn't go well. He abandoned the race after 4 years of anticipation. Duane was ill and wasn't breathing too well. I felt weak from sleep deprivation. Then the rain came.

I was determined to skate the next day, regardless of the weather. Heck, I have short legs. I'm genetically blessed to make sharp left turn at bottom of the hill, puckered or otherwise. All I need is a healthy back in the morning.


_Athens
I was ecstatic to see the dry road Sunday morning.

The start line was the most relaxed of all major events. There was no 20-min team warm up. No one practiced the final sprint. People just skated around greeting each other. No one fought too hard for position after the gun went off. After some gentle pushing and shoving, we got our red and yellow pace line.


_Easy First Miles
It didn't take too long before we started to pass others, especially going downhill. Our long tight train was much faster than the small packs. Several skaters kept passing us going uphill and were quickly swallowed. Gravity of many, wind resistance of one. This was fun!

Everyone was fresh and stable. We enjoyed the weather and scenery. We were a chatty bunch.

Chris Ritter and Mike worked so well together pulling the pack many skaters gave up out-skating us and just joined our pack parasitically. A few didn't feel right sucking our wheels and went to the front and offered to pull. We didn't care if other skaters use us to save energy. Our objective was to finish the event safely as a team; the time and placement were secondary.


_Pucker Hill
At some point we had a pace line of 40+ various bright color shirts hanging off 12 red-yellow jerseys. Awesome sight. I was in the 12th position going down BP Hill. I opened 5 feet in front of me then sneakily sprinted to close the gap to shake off the attachment. The lead skater of the new pace line didn't quite know how to react to the sudden wind resistance and the sharp left turn; his line went into pieces. It was a rare chance for me to try these little team tactics without worrying being dropped by the pack. It was great.


_Little Puppy on a 20-foot Chain
Many cars greeted the skaters with hand waves employing variable number of fingers. A few dogs also greeted us enthusiastically as we roll by their homes. One rottweiller came close to the road, barking. What a cute little puppy!

"It's OK, he's on a chain." Someone said reassuringly.

Next thing I knew we had the most unsafe looking animal in Georgia running next to us dragging a 20-foot chain. He skillfully cut through the pace line and played chicken with an oncoming Buick. The canine won! He was unable to keep up after a few more minutes and dropped out of sight. Everyone gave a sigh of relief. Or maybe he stopped chasing only for celebration dance after the victory over car.

Like Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction," the beast reappeared out of nowhere, not looking particularly pleased. I wanted his recovery speed. The 2nd stalking didn't last as long. Perhaps he didn't find just the right calf to sink his teeth into. Maybe he was already full from eating a skater from the lead pack.

Hopefully the puppy found his way home.


_Bonk Alert
Some of our teammates got weak. We shuffled the team members around for better positioning. Biff fell off the pack briefly, but we didn't drop our teammates that easily. He was hurting but was determined to hang on.


_Brief Encounter w/ FL Pegasus Flyer
We caught our Florida friend Paul on a short steep climb. He didn't have sufficient momentum to catch up to our pack but went on to win his age group. You da man, Paul.


_Steeplechase
I've skated some rough roads, but this is the first time I skate a race with actually break on the course. Due to some efficient bureaucratic communication (example of sarcasm), a small section of the course had no surface. Everyone rolled slowly on the 1-foot wide concrete, tip-toed over rocks and mud, then climb over concrete barriers covered with blankets.

Later we heard Eddy's pack just ran over the mud.


_Dacula
Soon we reached the town I always mispronounced and was famous for a pumpkin story in newspaper. 10 of us cheered on as our 38-miler crossed the half distance finish line. I was so proud of them knowing how hard Biff worked to come this far and seeing how Tonya conquered the hills.


_Into 3 rd Quarter
Critter and Mike continued to pull. We passed and picked up skaters. All the sudden I heard a small pack coming fast from behind and thought maybe Eddy overslept. It was the 52-mile lead pack. They looked fast. They looked skinny.

Duane continued to do well and showed signs of breathing. Jason and Little Chris seemed recovered from helping Biff earlier. Tiffany and Brenda still looked strong. Everyone was comfortable in their places and started chatting again. It was a social skate on the gentle rolling hills. It's also obvious all legs are a little tired from the climbs.

One problem we did not have was direction. Brenda would use her cut up map and shout out the turns and distances from the back. The lead skaters look for street signs. Rest of us just concentrated on skating. We had motorcycle police escort for a long stretch, which helped tremendously. Another perk of going with a large team.


_Unscheduled Stop
The unthinkable happened. Our king of mountain, who probably has red polka dot tattooed on his torso, got severe cramp. After a brief rest, he continued to skate with a little help from teammates. At some points we were sure we'd reach Piedmont Park with a missing man, but we got through the remaining gentle hills together. Not letting Dave go is my proudest team achievement. Thanks for hanging on, Dave.

We also earned the right to make fun of him until the A2A 2004.


_50-mile Stop
Fred, Tonya, and Biff waited for us with each skater's feedbag on the curb. David sat down with obvious pain trying to consume everything with potassium. We swapped water containers, loaded more energy food and resumed with what we though was sufficient supply. Only 37 miles to go. I thought rest of the trip would be easy as long as Duane's lungs and Dave's legs continue to move.


_Challenges
I learned to climb by trying to keep up with Dave. It's only logical that my quads started to give out too. I kept up with the group but was unable to help others.

Coach Mike, who won 38-mile in 2000, finally got tired. He rested in the middle of the pace line and continued to direct the pack. Critter demonstrated his superpower by pulling against strong wind for much of the way. Chris, you're not even human. Rick was also strong near the front, always ready to take over.

Apparently I didn't learn from Hotter'n Hell where I threw away a water bottle. As temperature rose, I lost water quickly. I started to look for extra supply. Fortunately Speed Spray Bob showed up with water bottles and bananas every half an hour. It would be difficult to finish the trip without his support.


_The Big Long Downhill
Not everyone felt strong by the time we reached Silver Hill. We went down the long hill in scattered packs. Duane and my 2-man train reached a measly 42-mph behind Jason's 1-man bullet. This was disappointing but everyone made it safely.


_Atlanta
The rolling hills finally ended. We were on relatively flat Atlanta streets. My legs stopped cramping. The streets were so patchy I wanted to call out "crappy road next mile" instead of pointing out each bump and manhole.

The traffic got hairy by lunch hours, but police manned the intersection usually gave us priority.

We went through the Restaurant Street 5 hours into the race. I got really hungry. I hoped the sandwich waiting at finish had half a cow in it.

We asked the non TX Flyers in our pack to go ahead so we would go in as one unit.

We reached Piedmont Park with spectators welcoming us. It was a beautiful moment. Great weather. Great support. Great company. No blood. Everyone stopped talking about food and got a little emotional as we realized this is the final stretch. The pace line became horizontal. 10 of us crossed the finish line, hand in hand.

Wished it were longer.
Wished it were 7am so I could do the whole thing again.
Wished Jack were there.


_Post Race
I sat on the grass and talked to my teammates and other friends. I was happy to find out Eddy and Stacey both won their divisions. Barry didn't skate. The missing road and head wind prevented any new non-default record this year, but Eddy managed to blow his competition away by 7 minutes.

After sandwich and soda, I was ready for another long skate. Went to the hotel and took a shower. Suddenly all I wanted to do was rest. I fell asleep on a couch at award ceremony amongst hundreds of skaters still pumped with energy.

We went to a burger place for dinner. The items were logically named on the menu. I picked the obvious -- Coronary Bypass. Wondered whether the little black dog ever had Korean for dinner. Wondered if my friends knew how much I appreciated them. Wondered if I'd be in a team this good and feel this proud again.

Still can't believe I finished A2A!

2003 Hotter n Hell

Hotter n Hell 50-mile skate

1 year delay
It started out as a joke. I was going to skate Hotter n Hell 2002 with Texas Flyers. Duane found floor space for everyone and volunteered to make dinner. Donnie called us from the course Friday afternoon about the unskatable road surface. I carbo loaded at Duane's house (good job on the pasta, Duane) and went home.

Someone joked they should have 6"-wheel version of speedskates for rough road. I'm a Darwin Award fan, I figured, why not. The 13 lb skates should increase my odds.

I came close to not skating Hotter n Hell 2003, which requires getting a room in Wichta Falls or getting up early in the morning. I lack these skills. Fortunately Fuzi Dave took pity on me and sublet his hotel room. Fuzi also helped me with the toughest part of the even: getting up on time. I actually had time for a sit-down breakfast and for replacing a popped wheel, which I overpumped while whining why they couldn't start the ride at 1pm.


The Start
The weather was beautiful at the start, definitely not hotter than. The road toward back of the bike line was so long my ride became HH52. Saw Donnie, Dave Ahadi and 2 other skaters. Tony and Olga stayed at the back w/ the skaters Dave informed me doing 50 miles in Coyotes is not easy.

I skated up and down the spectator section while trying to convince my GPS and camera not to turn themselves off by vibration and ungentlemanly language. Many riders and spectators were curious about my doing the event in the odd-looking skates. Most questions had to do with whether I was crazy. My answer got shorter and shorter as the day went on:

"I don't know, are you?"
"No, just Stupid."
"Absolutely."
"Yes!"
"Yep"


Easy first miles
Donnie and I waited over 40 min for the road to clear. It was good to finally put the electronics aside and get some exercise. I saw Donnie quickly disappeared in his 5-wheel skates. I slowly pass tendon bikes and baby trailers and occasionally stopped for photos when my camera happened to be on. I saw a few riders crashed into curbs because they had problem handling < 5 mph speed in the crowd.

The crappy but skatable surface quickly turned into black ice. I stopped and refueled at first 2 rest stops. Great support, great weather, great road, great people. I started to enjoy myself and thought maybe I could've done the 100 km.

The unprepared Idiot.
After the first rest stop I got overconfident about my speed. I threw away the 3rd water bottle because it got in the way of the camera bag. I don't remember much of the road right after rest stop 2. I became obsessed and was busy "fixing" my GPS and camera. I finally accepted that carrying the extra gear was a mistake.

Soon I came to a T-intersection and didn't know which way to go. This was when I realized I forgot my map. I waited under the bridge, and 3 wise-looking local cyclists came up and showed me the way. 4 of us stayed together for much of the ride.


Rest stop 3
100k and 50-mile routes met at rest stop 3. Hooked up with a happy and relaxed Fuzi on his hybrid bike.

Several Dallas bikers said hi; they ride at Whiterock on Tuesdays or Thursdays and saw the Texas Flyers. More people told me how cool the Coyotes were. The words "tall" and "stud" were used.

Highway 44
I felt less and less studly by the minute as I start to have problem keeping up with my newfound bike friends. I see myself toe-pushing and could do nothing to correct it. Blisters developed inside the hot socks, 3 on each foot. I took pride in their symmetry until 1 popped and its sister blister didn't. I missed my custom boots. My heart rate started to go nuts as the temperature approached hell.

I must have looked pretty pathetic at this point. 1 of my new friends suggested I could hang on to her jersey. I politely declined. Being a bicep-less but macho male, I suggest racing up the ramp to Interstate 44 access road.

Fuzi and I impressed the girls by flying up the ramp. This was the only section of Hwy 44 I felt confident. The road surface was less than black ice. It gets worse as I ran out of water. My feet were on fire; the legs were running on sour milk; heart rate was on the wrong side of the anaerobic threshold. I was about to bonk. Someone mentioned 15 more miles to finish. I didn't know if I could do 5. The rest stop was nowhere in sight. I started to consider grabbing the cute girl's jersey. It's better than sagging. I sure could use that 3rd bottle of water now.

It suddenly dawned on me: I could just slow down. My friends adjusted their pace. I made it through the crappy road drafting behind them.


Big rest stop
Boy was I happy to see the overdue rest stop. I skated through a dried up ditch to get to water station. All-terrain skates come in handy once a while. I didn't feel so bad after hydration and cold towel. Scarlett tele-encouraged me on Fuzi's cell phone.

I couldn't find my ride buddies as I walked out of the port-a-potty. I felt a bit lost. I wondered if Superman ever felt this way when he walked out of phone booth.


Sheppard Air Force Base
The crappy road surface ended soon after the rest stop. I started to pass bikes again. I was strong, fresh, happy. I entered the base with a large pack. More spectators cheered us on. I stopped and took photos of airplanes. I stopped to thank the volunteers at the rest stop inside the base and realized I was near the end of HH 50. I didn't want it to end. I want it to last longer.


Final miles
My wish came true. I came to a long straight road with new pavement.
The 6" wheels barely rolled on the long stretch of black chip n seal. I duck-walked and wonder if urethane wheels would be easier. Hundreds of bikes passed by shouting encouraging words, especially the ones I passed at the airbase. No one asked me the crazy question any more. One rider actually hit the brake just to high five. This is the type of events that make guys hug each other, and not just sideways.

I was in no rush. I no longer cared about taking photos or keeping pace. I just wanted to remember this day. I reflected on the sequence of events that let me to Coyoting HH 50, starting with an impulse buy on eBay and not quite knowing what to do once the 7" high-heel arrived. I thought about all the friends who skated with me Tuesday nights. I recalled skating from Fort Worth to Dallas and bonking at the ballpark. I don't know why I do things like long distance skating, but I love doing it. Maybe I am crazy.

I chatted with a few more cyclists as we rode by the closed stores near downtown. We heard the announcer at the finish line and saw the century riders coming in from the opposite direction, each one looked exhausted. After 2 right turns, I sprinted, caught a century rider, drafted, and finished with him. I was so grateful my body didn't fail me.


Post ride
Talked with some Pegasus Flyers bikers at finish line about the absent Flyers. Went to the water and banana tent and chatted with riders met on the road. Drank like a fish and ate like a monkey. Life is good.

Tony and Olga came to Fuzi's room for shower. Except for Tony, we spent most of the time lying down waiting for dinner. Tony found comfort putting his forehead on the socks on table.

After a big dinner, I drove home and got ready for the Texas Flyer Sunday morning skate. I faced the great challenge of getting up for the 7 am A2A practice without Fuzi's help. At least I didn't have to worry about over pumping the wheels this time.

2003 Collin Classic

Collin Classic 30 mile skate

Indecision

I couldn't decide to skate or bike the event. By the rainy Friday night, I figure the road would be partially wet and told a few friends I would bike the 55-mile route. I missed riding, and through the Great Skate of TX I'd already donated this years quota to the big bearing ranch in the sky.

I woke up to a beautiful Saturday sky and 89.7% of my neurons wanted to skate. I took the bike out of the trunk and tossed in the skate bag.

Start

This is the biggest bike rally I've attended, and hundreds of cyclists practiced just-in-time management of waking up late. After waiting in the line for parking, the line for promised not to sue, and the line for event pack, the century riders were ready to go. As I headed toward back of the very long start line, I heard many riders expressing doubt regarding the rollerblader's (inline skater's) ability to participate. "You're gonna do what!" "How do you stop?" No one asked me where Gordon was.

Being intellectually unremarkable (moron) I failed to check the equipment before leaving the house. The left skate missed 1 wheel and axle. I felt slight perturbation of confidence (screwed) as I started at the very back of the pack without warm up.

After going at 5 mph for a while, I jumped behind a few fast cyclists who also ain't good at getting to event on time. I didn't get much draft as they dart in and out of the 15-milers. I pulled some back muscle during the zigzag portion of the course. I wanted my mommy.

The Course

Fortunately it wasn't a normal skating muscle. I felt fine once the road was clear enough to go straight. The course was very skatable. I kept waiting for the bad surface in Don's report to show up; it barely did. The black stuff is not smooth, but it's not as bad as some parts of the Tuesday night route. Over all it was an easier ride than 2002 Mesquite Rodeo Ride. I would've done the 55-mile if it weren't for the missing wheel and bad back.

There were some rolling hills. Long and gentle. The only tough hill was 1 mile before the finish. Many stood up pretending to be Lance Armstrong. I pretended to be Dave Guadiz and smiled as I passed them.

There were rest stops approximately every 10 miles. They seemed more and more attractive as my legs started to complain.

The people

I didn't see other skaters on the course except the few who pretended to be cyclists.

Everyone was nice to me, even the sheriff. I got encouragements from cyclists as I had problem staying in the pack going down hill. I ended up grabbing the bottom of their seats, which made interesting shadows.

My pack sneakily tried to drop me once when I said hi to Fuzi.

Post event

Lunch was served in the high school cafeteria. I ate hot dogs with the people I met on the 30-mile course. These are bicycle enthusiasts who don't necessarily care how fast they're going, not your typical Richardson Bike Mart Saturday crowd. We talked about Hotter n Hell and other events.

Wish more skaters were there.

2002 Long Beach Marathon

2002 Long Beach Inline Marathon

Tried to drive the 26-mile course Saturday morning. This was nontrivial since some turns weren't opened to motor vehicles. I casually abandoned the difficult parts of the course. I decided skater in front of me would know where to go.

I arrived at the expo half way into Chad Hedrick and Heather Elliot marathon workshop. Chad was teaching weight transfer and edge control. Not sure how useful such information was 1 day before the race. Half of class apparently already could double push; the other half struggled to get any outside-edge at all. Most wanted to be there just to skate w/ Superman.

I noticed Chad wasn't using the Chad-signature wheels I would use in the race. Chad supposedly endorsed these more expensive item. It was the only 84-mm wheels I could find after Northshore people bought all the popular stuff.

All the expected manufactures showed up. After getting my annual hug from lovely Skategrrl Kathie Fry, I test drove Rollerblade's new models. When I mentioned the pressure point I felt, the rep immediately guessed that my feet were too wide and basically told me the entire line of skates ain't for me. Interesting sales approach.

In the afternoon I made some effort skating parts of course that were not accessible by car. I met our FL members Paul and Stacey on the bike path. Just as 3 of us realized we didn't know where the course was, we met 2 women asking about race route. Paul turned on the charm and enthusiastically gave the 2 attractive ladies all kinda helpful information. Stacey accused his father of being a "clean young man" (not exact quote). After finishing A2A just the week before, Stacey had food poisoning and was unsure about her readiness for Long Beach.

The Race.

It was dark when everyone got to the start line. The temperature was low enough I barely sweated during warm up. My heart rate monitor said 224, which was a reasonable number if I were a hummingbird. It's the unadvertised beat-doubling feature of Polar sensors.

The advanced start was a zoo.
As soon as we crossed the start line, everyone wanted the same positions.
This led to constant forming and breaking of long pace lines. Several people crashed minutes into the race. A skater landed on her right ear; I saw the sunglasses frame snapped in slow motion. Scary stuff. After clicking skates couple time, I decided to play it safe and hide behind a lone skater who refused to join the fight. I eventually fought my to the front when most gave up changing their positions. I looked at my HRM, 186 (93% max). I should be OK as long as I stayed in the draft and didn't have to counter any attack before my heart rate slows a bit.

First 6 miles had many turns. Hay bales were placed at strategic positions. At one spot the orange cones were so confusing the lead motorcycle led the pro men in the wrong path, and the 3 pros who memorized the route broke away and won the race.
Advanced lead pack (motto: we could skate like the pro if we pretend) took the same wrong turn. The problem w/ U-turn having 100+ skaters behind you in a race is you can't just power slide into a 180 unless you want to test your helmet. By the time I stopped, ran over the grass, jumped over dirt, the directionally gifted were long gone. It felt like the race had restarted and some were allowed to start early.

A few of us sprinted and quickly realized the futility. I stayed in a small pack lead by 2 San Diego skaters and began our chase of the huge group 400 yards ahead. I found a tall steady skater to block the wind; few miles later I realized it was Paul. I concentrated on falling into my strides and saving energy; all the practice behind Critter's ridiculously long strokes was paying off.

We swallowed many skaters into our growing pack between mile 7 and 12, but a group of 40+ skaters managed to keep the distance. They disappeared at the end of the bike path alone the beautiful morning Pacific. I could swear one of them looked back and gave us the evil smile.


Before we entered a U-turn I saw Stacey skating alone on the other side of the street looking tired. Food poisoning was not a optimal activity before endurance sport. I hoped she was OK. She managed to maintain her speed; we never caught her.

Half way into the race we saw what could be the lead pack and picked up the pace. I pulled the pack and worried whether my legs would hold for another 13 miles. Then I saw the woman of my dream--the one who helped pull! We closed the gap and found out they weren't leader.

Some guy in Hyper skin suit pulled much of the way in his 4-wheel rec skates. We could hear him coming behind our pack shouting "AAAAAH," and all the sudden he would pass the pack as if he were wearing blue war paint and holding Wallace sword. Braveheart would slow down to lead the pack then disappear until the next charge. He did this so many times I started to think they were twins or triplets racing as 1 person.

We continue to pick up and pass skaters shed off the front packs, including a racer shouting encouraging words sitting at a bus stop. People were less and less willing to pull. My HRM says 165. Not a good sign. The lead pack was probably increasing the gap. It was tempting to push the pack faster, but I didn't know how the 30 skaters around me would react. A solo break away probably wouldn't do any good either. Wish Dave G and Duane were here.

We made the final turn just before mile 24. I couldn't see any skater in front of us. No more chasing. A few half-hearted attacked started and faded. The group seemed to slow down even more. I realized having 20+ skaters in front of me w/ 2- miles left was not a good idea. I decided to take the lead. As I started to move up from the left Paul opened a gap in front of him to let me into the 3rd position.
It's wonderful to have a teammate.

The attack finally started w/ less than a mile to go by the energized Hyper guy shouting something that's not "freedom" and suddenly opened a 10-yard gap. Thanks to Paul, I was fresh enough to chase him down, and our 2-man pack had what I thought was a comfortable lead. What a rush! Unfortunately we were both sprinters (AKA endurance-challenged), 3 other skaters caught us before the line.

It was disappointed to finish so far behind the leaders, but I was ecstatic to have finished the race safely and have enough left for sprint. It's also the first time I finished 26-mile course in less than 2 hr. The curse is broken.

Saw Stacey sitting by the curb looking beat. She skated much of the course by herself. Hope she'll recover soon from illness and the race.

Most pro men I talked to at finishing area appeared bitter about being directed off the course. The exceptions were K2's Josh Wood, who missed the wrong turn, and Eddy, who had a huge smile as if he won the race. Gotta hand it to Eddy.

2002 Great Skate of Texas

race report: 2002 Great Skate of Texas Inline Marathon

Hats off to David Darr for making the 1^st Annual event such a success.

Bonnie Blair was the guest of the honor at the dinner banquet. Cancer survivors, including Bonnie's brother, gave moving speeches on their experiences and future of cancer treatment and prevention. K2's Dean Burke (finished after our Chris and Jason :) gave an inline speedskating 101 talk, completed with a race video provided by Bont's Debbie Rice. I felt bad keep aiming the flash at Bonnie's face. Sigh, nothing screams out _amateur_ like a point-n-shoot camera on a $20 tripod. Bonnie was very understanding when I apologized. I finally met our virtual member Paul in person with whom I had discussed his Greek-God-like physique. His daughter Skate-Like-Wind Stacey also made the trip from Florida.

I planned to take 5k and 1-mile pix on skates. The 5k skaters were much faster than I expected. Yeah, I was having trouble keeping up w/ little kids. I never reached the leader of 5k. I stopped chasing after catching up w/ little Marvin the Energizer bunny.

I lingered too long on the 5k course and missed the start of the 1-mile Fun Skate. I barely got there on time to make the wrong turn w/ some front skaters. Yeah, my gift for getting lost triumphed again. I didn't take many photos on the 1-mile course. It was fun just hanging out w/ Bonnie and our skater friends, and I was anxious to start the 25k race.

After Dean told me K2 team would try to do 27 ~ 28 mph with a mouthful of meat at the dinner, I gave up on my goal of not to be lapped. But I stuck with my original strategy: hang on to jelly boy for as long as I could. Dave and Duane's pack dropped me during the 4^th big lap. Renee Coffman from Houston was nice enough to bonk around the same time so I didn't have to skate alone. We picked up and dropped a few skaters alone the way. I wanted to give Renee high five as we finished lap 4—unlapped!—but was too tired to raise my arm.

After I finished 25k, I tried to take pix with my shaking hands and screwed up all kinda Nikon moments. I did witness a girl panicked at the big hill and fell going 20+ mph. Scary sight. I was surprised at how little injury she sustained. She seemed to be in good spirit 20 min after the crash. I wish I had a chance to talk to her; I was late for a wedding (not mine).

It was exciting to see the result in Dallas Morning News Monday, particularly on Chris and Jason's beating the pros. Wish I were there to see the final sprint.

Johnny the event's official snapshot taker

1997 Western Hemisphere

race report: Western Hemisphere Inline Marathon

Johnny does marathon

Do you want to brag that you can do marathon in under 3 hours but are too lazy to train? If so, rollerblade is the sport for you. There are numerous other reasons to rollerblade. I personally started because study shows that bimbos prefers 5'9" good looking geeks over 5'6" good looking geeks, 3 to 1.
I participated in Western Hemisphere In-Line Skate Marathon in December 1996. This is my second in-line skate marathon. I learned an important lesson in the 1995 marathon: sometimes it's necessary to refuse free drinks. There were many Gatorade stands along the course, and I found that getting drinks from people is spirit-lifting fun. The goal was to snatch the little paper cup from the volunteer's hand w/o spilling or slowing down. 15 miles into the race I was able to grab 2 cups per stand; I was rather pleased w/ myself. Toward the end I found out there's nothing like skating uphill while really having to go. The other problem I encountered was lack of training. I hadn't taken any 3+ miles skate trip since the end of day-light-saving time. I found out about the marathon 11 hours before the event.
I was wiser and more prepared in 1996. I even practiced 1 hour everyday the whole week before the event, except the 3 days that rained.
I got through the toughest part of the marathon w/ relative ease, you know, getting up in the morning. The race started 20 minutes before the published time in the Culver City newsletter, so I started the race 15 minutes late. It took me forever to catch the slowest of people who had enough sense to arrive more than 5 minutes before the race. The police directing the traffic seemed to have no respect for people who didn't start on time. I was directed off the course. Twice.
The skaters' speed was a function of their equipment. The leading pack consisted of men in tights, followed by shorts-wearing people whose skates made funny noises. Behind them were the wimps who wore more protective gears than jousting knights. The last group consisted of cheerful people who were busy swapping recipes and debating political issues such as boxer shorts vs. briefs. During the first hour I passed social people and armored people. I was also passed by several skaters who apparently had problem waking up. The social people seemed to have the most fun.
After 10 miles, I was mostly skating along, except for passing people who couldn't get up in the morning and didn't know how to pace themselves. The men in tights were so much faster than us mortals it was pointless trying to catch them. Part of the course was on Vista del Mar. The morning ocean was beautiful.
The skaters and runners' courses merged at our turn-around point. That's where I found out how fast I really was--I had problem keeping up w/ some runners. Somehow this led to my skating faster than my muscles were designed for. Pretty soon my legs went numb. I think I broke some kinda slow record during the last 5 miles. But I started to kick my boots hard and swing hands high when I saw the finish line. I tried to act like I knew what I was doing <= the TV camera. I'm so shallow.
In case you're curious, I finished the 26.n miles in approx. 2.5 hours. This means if you randomly pick a skinny Kenyan man and paint wheels on his feet, he could beat my time--unless he drinks too much free Gatorade.

bio from 1997

This was written for the company newsletter.

Johnny Chen

I'm a Programmer Analyst working in the Soar Group at the University of Southern California's Information Sciences Institute. I primarily work on the Soar IFOR project maintaining the Soar ModSAF Interface. I also help with maintenance of the Soar software on occasion.
I started at ISI on April 1, 1996. My last day at ISI will be December 3, 1997. I plan to move to Dallas, Texas in December 1997 and start working in Dallas in May 1998. Here is my resume in HTML , MS Word , ASCII .

Background

I left my family in Taiwan and came to the United States at the age of 13. I learned to enjoy sports in public junior high in Texas. I spent most of my time learning English and doing different sports: football, basketball, martial art, etc. I got my first computer in the 8th grade: an Apple II clone. I spent ungodly amount of time doing what personal computers were really good for--playing games. I also spent few geek hours here and there memorizing 6502 commands (couldn't afford an assembler) and the 0th page content in the Apple.
I focused my high school years on books. I would've focused on girls except I was too short to play varsity football. Inspired by "Color of $," I went to Baltimore to become a hustler after high school. I practically lived in the smoke-filled 24-hr pool hall, where I surprisingly found out that real life was not at all like the movies. I waited and waited and waited but Paul Newman never showed up, and I wasn't making enough $ on the pool tables. My first clue was that Balabushika in the movie wasn't even a hand-made cue. Fortunately my parents helped me out because I told them I was in college. I later tried a real Balabushika. I think it's so hyped mostly because the artist is dead.
I played and studied hard in Johns Hopkins (*there are S's after both "John" and "Hopkin") where I founded the pool club, led a collegiate team (ACU-I), participated in over 10+ other extracurricular organizations, stayed up all night to get on the CM2s, and tried to figure out if P==NP. Too lazy to read the descriptions in the course catalog, I always signed up for many courses and dropped the ones I didn't enjoy. Due to lack of forethought and planning, I "almost" finished the requirements for bachelor degrees in CS, EE, and math and for master degree in CS by the end of my junior year. I ended up staying for the 4th year to finish the requirements for the 4 degrees.
I was in Baltimore when the Cowboys had their 1-15 season; ain't my fault.
I started doing serious research in Syracuse University in 1991 because a girl was in Toronto, and I couldn't find summer jobs that didn't involve saying "do you want fries with that?" in Buffalo or Rochester. The research led to my first publication. In 1992 I left my pool cue in Texas and entered UCLA grad school to do AI. I also worked part-time in Cedars-Sinai Medical Center doing nuclear medicine. My job in the hospital was to teach the computers to find the heart on SPECT and MRI images. The PhD thing didn't work out. I started working in Westside Billiards Cafe (next to Hard Rock) as the equipment man and pool instructor. I was, again, unable to make a living shooting pool and had to work full-time in the basement of Cedars where they made patients glow under the gamma cameras. In addition to developing algorithms in computer vision, I also did system administration and wrote medical software using Motif. My last job title in Cedars was "research biostatistician." I still don't understand the deep reasoning behind my becoming a biostatistician; I once heard something about the job involves washing test tubes.
I left the radioactive and pool jobs and started working at ISI on April 1, 1996.

Goals

Ever since I came to this country, my goals have been
1> being able to dunk, preferably 2-handed, and possibly backward or even upside down while doing a spit
2> not to go bald
I've been working on reaching the rim for past 20+ years; I mostly just wave at the thing. I considered buying a pair of them shoes that cost as much as Apache helicopters, but are more technologically advanced. But I heard that the shoes are responsible for Shaq's free-throw ability. Come to think of it, I could change my goal to something more practical, such as getting a $120000000.00 contract for a job that requires wearing shorts and running shorter people over. A second thought, I better stick to goals that are more achievable.
I guess one out of two ain't bad. At least I hope it's one out of two.

Hobbies

In my spare time--as well as rest of the time--I enjoy basketball, volleyball, bowling, tennis, racquetball, pool, snooker, ski, water ski, jet ski, swimming, football, and rollerblading . I've pretty much given up martial art as a competitive sport because I happen to believe size matters. I still swing my nunchucks once a while when watching TV and amazingly haven't broken the tube as my mom has predicted. I'm currently looking for pool and tennis partners. My high-run in pool was 39 (As of 1992. I haven't played much straight pool since, and my shot-making ability has gone down the toilet). I suck in tennis, but I like to hit hard and am always willing to run.
I'm in the process of becoming a movie geek, which is another way of saying I'm a pathetic nerd w/ no life. I went so far as trying to make a living as an international action star w/ acting skill of your average Idaho potato (official motto: I can't act worse than Mr. Van Damme). I believe the only reason I'm not already a 5'6" action hero who looks tall on the screen is "Muscle from Taipei" doesn't sound as good.
If I had more sense, I'd pay more attention to my Fidelity retirement account investment performance. Maybe one day I'll actually need a Taco Bell or Fry's employment application.