Ruff*Ryders*

Late yesterday a large package was delivered to OPR while we were busily preparing for next weeks hectic lineup including: a SoCal Media Tour, the Fleet Feet Running Conference in San Diego, and the Bike PressCamp in Deer Valley, Utah. With deadlines bearing down on us, the box was shuffled off to the side until the scramble subsided. Thankfully, when I came in this morning the box was opened and sunglasses flooded onto the floor. The newest shipment of Ryders Eyewear had arrived.

Although we are usually the ones playing Santa Claus with our clients gear- it is always exciting to dig through those incoming boxes and ball out with a few of the new styles ourselves. I am a sunglasses fanatic and will barely venture outdoors without a pair (or two) on my person. That being said, I was giddy as an eight year old on Jolt when I saw the contents of the box. Ryders has added a bunch of new styles to their Chill line that will instantly up your hip-cred beyond your wildest dreams.

While I can’t unveil too much- I hope you enjoy these shots of the Dingo rocking a new pair of Shreddies.

Gore-Tex TransRockies 2010: A run through the Peaks of Hell

I might have grown up within a tight community of hard-core runners, but I never imagined in the wildest of hallucinations that I would take part in anything longer, or more excruciatingly stupid, than a marathon. Runners are all-right by me- but throughout my childhood I always held a sneaking suspicion that every one of them was slightly insane. This thought still hasn't completely left my mind- to this day, when I diligently wake up early to put in a few miles with the Dingo before heading to work.

My horizons were abruptly altered this past fall when I began working at OutsidePR. Our firm was founded with the mission to effectively publicize the most high profile, core outdoor brands- so joining the team subliminally binds you with the expectation that you are prepared to handle and embrace any and all types of extreme/adventure/endurance masochism. I may not have realized this stipulation right off, but it slowly sunk in when terms such as adventure race and ultramarathon became a common part of our daily dialogue.

Further magnifying my entry into this society of psychopaths was the realization that our client – the GoreTex Transrockies Race- is one of the premier adventure races in the United States. This multi-day, six-stage race draws participants from across the globe to compete in one or two-person teams for a purse of over $20,000. In the midst of the Colorado Rockies, the course runs from Buena Vista to Beaver Creek, through the heart of the White River, and San Isabel National Forests. Runners subject themselves to nearly 25,000 feet of elevation gain, reaching altitudes of over 12,500 ft.

My duty while in Colorado this August 22-27 will be to accommodate the members of the press covering the event, while reporting on the behalf of GTTRR, and participating when necessary. While I am rather eager to confront such a challenge, the issue still remains that I have never run anything in the realm of 20 miles in a day, not to mention at 10,000 feet. The only things I am particularly versed at executing at such an elevation are submitting to the whims of gravity and hauling ass down the mountain through powdery fluff-flakes; or imbibing far too many of the delicious microbrews available in Colorado, and promptly falling down numerous times as my confused mind convinces me that I’m the next Ricky Martin on the dance floor.

To say that I’m apprehensive is an understatement. On my last trip to Colorado I managed to convince one eager photographer to enter a team and cover the event. This friendly South African, Paul Shippey, is a man of many talents, one of which is running. Take a peek at his GTTRR blog if you are wondering how a real man prepares for an odyssey as this. As for me, I’ll be surfing, hiking, running short distances through the extreme elevations changes of Golden Gate Park, and pretending that I’m going to cut back on the brews and tubes. But hey- we all know that’s not going to happen. If you have any advice on how I should protect my dehydrated ass from the wild, unforgiving Rockies, please let me know.

Constantly on the Run

Been grinding today- first at OPR, now off to the shack. One thing is for sure- Chomps Energy Chews work wonders. They are like little crack bits that make words spring ferociously from your fingers. If you ever need a boost in the water, eat 4-8 of these tasty guys 20 mins before suiting up and you won't even be communicating with your brain when it gets iced down on the paddle out. Then once you are out there you will be paddling in circles like a madman.

The crash from the caffine isn't exactly ideal, but neither is work or sharing Crabs with Marina chicks...

Artist of the day:

Salmonella Dub. Plug them in to Pandora and dub/groove/trance your way in a misty spiritual haze through the work day. Love them.

Vagrant Gypsy Life

A chilly, whipping wind battered the tress today as I tried to focus inside the walls of OutsidePR. The sun shone brightly through the window of our WWII era officers home- yet Dodger paced the floor restlessly and my mind churned like the wind-torn waters of the bay a half mile away.

When I don't surf, run, or get outdoors for at least a small portion of the day I operate at a much lower level. Today, while procrastinating, my mind pondered longevity and putting myself in the barrels of my dreams. Sometimes you have to reevaluate and decide where you want your current sessions to lead you in order to thrive.

Reaching goals therefore, requires conscious and unconsciously planning and positioning. You can't just keep saying- if only I quit this I'd be able to make it at that, or- maybe next year I'll sell all my stuff and leave. When the end goal is getting in/on the water every morning there really is no excuse if we put our minds to it. What is holding us back?

The freedom granted by controlling the overall structure of your schedule can be very rewarding- that is, until you become exhausted by trying to juggle too much, or struggling to make rent. I have reached another fork in the road that is both exciting and daunting. Do I continue to work multiple jobs, in order to maintain the status quo of minimal obligation, or conform to a certain degree in order to gain back some semblance of stability? And if I do commit to normalcy- is there no more opportunity to strike out on my own, both on the road and as a entrepreneur?

Matt bought a boat last week and his reality is starting to bloom. I am pondering importing goods from the orient, working with hops, landscape design, architecture, running tours, and running amuck. I miss the long, muggy evenings PPPing at the East Chop Beach. This poem, written by the Poet Laureate of England in the first half of last century, reminds me of those laid back times; let's go back to the seas again... the vagrant gypsy life.

I Must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,

And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,

And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray dawn breaking.

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

John Masefield