Please sir, can I have some more?

I promised there was more coming, so here is more.  It started snowing here in Germany a few weeks ago.  Within a day or two it accumulated to about a foot.  I was pretty pumped to see the town covered in snow.  I went for a run on the trails and it looked even better.  The entire ground, normally blanketed in bright green moss, had been painted white with snow while the trees boasted a nice coating of their own.  I didn't get a picture since I was running but I managed to get a picture of the trees outside my apartment before the snow was melted away by rain the following week.

Since then we've gotten a few dustings on top, nothing more.  It was still enough to get me pumped for the skiing season.  I'm looking to plan a weekender in the Alps with some friends after the holidays.  Speaking of, I'll be coming back to PA this weekend!  I've been hording my vacation days so I'm able to spend three weeks relaxing at home with an additional week of work in Exton.  In all I'll be home for four weeks, which ain't bad.  With the German vacation schedule I'll still have 14 days of vacation for the next year.  That gives me about three weeks to play with, which is way more than we'd get in the US.  I'm looking at a trip to Gardasee, Italy in the spring with my mountain biking buddy from work.  We'll probably go for a long weekend.  After that I'll start looking at a trip to England.  A colleague of mine offered me a place to stay and a tour.  I'm thinking another long weekend trip.  That still leaves me with plenty of time to plan another trip or two before my time is up here.  I haven't put too much thought as to where else I want to go yet, but I've gotten a handful of suggestions.  I'm thinking Spain is a must.  It's all just words right now, but I'll post the pictures after it all happens.

Kicking some virtual ass!

No, I have not forgotten about this blog.  It's just that I've been spending a lot more time with my Playstation since Call of Duty: Black Ops came out.  That sounds like telling someone "it's not that I don't love you, I just love (insert name of love affair here) more."  My computer is a bit jealous too so don't feel bad.  For those not in the know, Black Ops is a first-person shooter video game based on the Cold War and involves a lot of shooting and outsmarting other players across the internet.  And it is ridiculously addicting.  I wouldn't call myself a gamer,  but I feel like some people who don't play video games at all have the wrong impression about games like Call of Duty or Halo where the simplified objective is "to kill people."  Yes, you kill people.  But it's not just the virtue of shooting someone that draws people to play such games.  It has a lot to do with entertaining your imagination as well as testing your strategic abilities.

Lots of folks like getting lost in books (I'm one of them).  Books give you the opportunity to imagine yourself as one of the characters, doing all the crazy things that they're doing.  Movies provide a similar outlet in that lots of viewers will imagine themselves as one of the characters, making them feel like a super hero, a genius, a badass or whatever.  Video games let you do the same thing but with a level of control.  That control is very rewarding in that you know when you've done something wrong, and failed, and when you've done something right, outsmarted the enemy and downright kicked some virtual ass.

I haven't turned into a hermit yet and I have proof.  You can click here to check out some pics of me hanging with my friends at a bar that just opened up in town a few weeks ago.  Girls like me here.  It doesn't hurt to be the only guy in the group that will dance either, after a few weissbiers of course.

More to come soon.  No lie.

Where's my stamp?

As I might have mentioned to a few people,  I was in Budapest this week.  A colleague was giving a presentation/training on our current pumps to some of our reps and distributors around the area (Hungary, Romania, Slovenia, etc).  I was there mostly to observe since this the same presentation that I will be giving all across the US when I return.  There were 16 of us that had gotten together at the Ramada hotel representing about 8 or so different countries and everyone spoke English, sort of.  The presenter is from England so he was the only real English speaker.  Americans don't really speak English according to England, so I didn't count.  Americans pretty much stole the English language and then started changing things we didn't like.  No wonder England doesn't like us.  We steal everything from them (e.g. music and David Beckham).  Some of the group could understand more than they could speak, which was fine since Netzsch would be doing most of the talking anyway.

Let me take a step back for a second.  I met up with my colleague from England and we took a taxi to the hotel.  We got there around 2PM and didn't have to be anywhere until 8PM for dinner at the hotel.  So we dropped our bags off in the rooms, grabbed a few maps and headed out into town.  Budapest is divided into two areas, Buda and Pest (pronounced Pescht).  They are divided by the Danube River.  Our hotel was on the Pest side.  Anyhow, we walked into town and managed to navigate to the subway and locate a place where we could get some food and a couple beers.  Afterward we trekked down to the river which would lead us to the Parliament building.  It's one of many buildings there that still maintain that old style architecture that looks like it came from ancient Greece or Rome.  Magnificent sculptures and artwork on the outside of the buildings.  Well we got a little too close to the Parliament building and a security guard in a green poncho swooped down to the ground like batman to scold us.  A little startled by this angry man, we laughed and continued on our way.  My partner in crime thought it was funny that he immediately started yelling at us in English rather than Hungarian.  I suggested that he knew we were foreigners because no other idiots would hop over the chain-linked fence that surrounds the building.  After that we used our inherited manly sense of direction to get back to the subway that would get us within walking distance to the hotel.  We even managed to buy the correct tickets from the automated machine rather than going up to the teller.  After getting off of the subway we were greeted by more security guards at the top of the escalator asking to see our tickets.  Fuck.  I had just thrown mine out in the trashcan at the bottom of the escalator.  I figured I was already off the subway so I didn't need it anymore.  Well they weren't buying it.  My accomplice and I both tried to talk our way out of paying the fine but they weren't budging.  6000 forints ($1 US = 200 forints).  Having been defeated, I payed the 30 bucks so they would shut up and we could get back to the hotel for dinner.  My stomach was a rumblin!

Dinner was pretty interesting.  The food was good, but the portions were pretty small.  I'm still hooked on the American diet which means I don't want to see any white space on that plate.  Fill it up!  I ate everything that was put in front of me and made short work of the bread bowls.  The rest of the night was filled with lots of international jokes and conversation that kept us up until about midnight.  The presentation went fairly well the next day.  I enjoyed the witty jokes that were mixed in while also learning a bit more about some technical issues regarding our pump design.  The technical information proved to be too much for some people while others were simply overloaded.  The presentation took about 8 hours, plus all the coffee breaks that kept everyone awake (mostly).

After the training was over we all got ready to go out for dinner at a local Hungarian restaurant.  Again, the food was good.  The portions were a bit better than the first dinner we had, but still falling short of the 'American standard.'  Following dinner we drove around to some other historical buildings that were dressed in the same ancient looking architecture as the Parliament building.  Imagining how these building were made without all the modern technology we have now is mind blowing.  It's incredible how they were able to much such large structures back then and make sure that everything is in perfect alignment.  We made about 4 or 5 stops before arriving back at the hotel around 1AM.  Lucky me, I had to be up at 6 so I could be on time for my flight back to Munich.  I was pretty destroyed by the time I made it back to the office.  Somehow I snapped out of it just before a web conference that afternoon.

When I got to Budapest no one checked for my passport.  There was no check in point when I got off the flight.  You simply pick up your bags and leave the airport.  Where the hell is my stamp?  What good is a passport if you can't fill it up with stamps of where you've been?  I want proof dammit!  I asked someone at an information center and she told me that you can travel pretty much anywhere in Europe without needing to show a passport (other than to get your boarding pass).  There are a few countries that this does not hold true with, but they're like the red headed step children of Europe.  I made sure to hold onto a handful of Hungarian cash and coin, so at least I've got something to show for being in Budapest.  Aside from nearly getting arrested for trespassing and not having a subway ticket that is.

Prideless Independence

A week or so ago I had a conversation over the phone with a friend of mine, all in German.  At first I didn't think too much about it.  Heck I've been here for six months I ought to be able to hold a conversation, even if I still sound like a 3rd grader.  The next day when we got together, he told me how surprised he was that I never once broke out of German.  Even more surprised was his girlfriend.  She had asked who was on the phone and was taken aback when she learned that I was on the other side of the call.  It would have been a dead giveaway had we been speaking English, but since we were conversing in German there was no direct indication that it was me.  I'll admit, both of their reactions made me feel good.  It was a sign that learning to speak German, somewhat fluently, wasn't going to be impossible.

A few days later, I revisited those thoughts and it made me realize something else.  Since moving to Germany I've become more independent as well as learning how to ask for help.  That's not an oxymoron.  I've always thrived on being independent.  For as long as I can remember I've always been one to do things on my own, to do things my way and to do it without help.  Yeah, I was that stubborn ass and I still am.  It is that quality though that drives me.  It is the fuel that gets me through grueling track workouts, the fuel that gets me up the mountain, or simply the fuel that gets me through a shitty day at work.  It has been the driving force behind my determination and persistence in nearly all that I do.  My tenacious character isn’t all gravy though.  In fact it’s come back to bite me in the ass on a few occasions.  Like when taking a gamble that I was right about something, only to get it really wrong and watch it blow up in my face.  Or procrastinating something for too long because I was too stubborn to ask someone for help.  But when learn from our mistakes.

Living in Germany has taught me how to better balance the two.  There are times where I needed to be self sufficient while also needing to check my pride at the door.  Case in point, my survival instincts kicked into high gear when I needed to get some food in the fridge.  When I first got here, I had no means of transportation other than a good pair of running shoes and no means of calling anyone unless I wanted to make like Croc Dundee and wake up the whole neighborhood.  So I laced up my shoes and started my hunt for town.  On the border of walking home in defeat after not finding a store after an hour of searching, I made a final push and asked someone for directions (in German).  I made it to the store that day and stocked up.  I could tell similar stories of finding the laundry mat, or establishing a bank account, or getting a cell phone.  Some things I could manage with a determined search through town while other things I needed to ask for help from my friends.  I wasn’t really interested in messing up something like a bank account or getting raped by a ridiculous cell phone plan.

Being independent has taken on a new meaning since moving to Germany.  It means being able to get past the fear of trying new things while knowing when to let go of your pride and ask for help.  I checked both at the airport.

Boundary Line

The climbing vs. running analysis spawned from thinking about my climbing technique, strengths, weaknesses, goals and my interest in trying new types of climbing.  

Spending a good deal of my time at the climbing gym after work (at home), I generally flock to the boulder walls as many do.  It's a great way to build power and expand your quiver of climbing maneuvers while sharing the excitement of working a project with other friends and climbers.  It's also more convenient than enlisting a climbing partner to share belays with on the lead wall.

I really enjoy bouldering and the sensation you get after unlocking the moves to a tricky problem and nabbing the send.  After spending month after month in the gym and occasionally outside, my bouldering strength went up.  I pushed myself to climb outside of my comfort zone and started sending problems that were a grade or two above what I perceived to be my climbing ability.  It wasn't long before I started to wonder what I was capable of on roped climbs.  What could I do if I pushed myself outside of my comfort zone in lead climbing the way I had in bouldering?  That's when I started looking at my strengths and weaknesses as a climber and compared them to that of my running abilities.

While lead climbing together, a mentor of mine told me that I climb with intent in that every hand and foot placement is chosen carefully and mindfully to prepare for the next move, a skill that is generally present among efficient climbers.  Efficient climbers.  Kinda sounds like a distance runner doesn't it?  I started making comparisons and quickly found that my strengths as a runner (stride efficiency, moderate power, moderate endurance, race strategy) dictated my strengths as a climber.  Racing mostly at 800 meters - 5k, I fall right into the 'mid distance' or 'sport climbing' range.

I started redirecting my efforts to top rope and sport climbing at the gym whenever I could snag a partner.  Before long I was toping on 5.12's and leading 5.11's.  The grades themselves were nothing to brag about, but for me it was huge progress.  When I stopped thinking of climbs as impossible or 'above my level' I started climbing harder. I learned to do away with the fear of failure and started pushing that boundary line out farther and farther.  Now that I know more about my strengths and weaknesses as a climber (and a runner) I know where to focus my efforts to push the boundary line out even more.

"Fear nothing.  Defy your boundaries."

Climbing vs Running

Coming from a running background, I think of different climbing styles in terms of race distances.  Bouldering is most like sprinting because both practices require raw strength and power with dedication to form.  I look at roped climbs as mid-long distance events due to the focus on endurance and efficiency.  During some eh, spare time, I gave the analogy more thought.  This is what I came up with.

100, 200 meters = Bouldering
400 meters= High Ball Bouldering
800 - 1600 meters = Sport Climbing / Top Rope
3200 - 10k = Marathon Sport Climbing (Sharma style)
10k - Marathon = Trad/Big Wall Climbing
Triathlon/Ironman  = Mountaineering/Alpinism

I didn't really put much thought to top rope but decided to throw it in with sport climbing under the 800 - 1600 meter range because most top rope climbs are the same length as single pitch sport climbs.  Marathon sport climbing gets its own category because people like Sharma have noticeably pushed the limits of single pitch sport climbing.  A lot of the routes he's established, like the ones in Catalunya, Spain or Yangshuo, China, required a special rope made by Petzl.  The next tier is Trad and Big Wall climbing.  I chose the race equivalents above because most Trad climbs dip into multipitch territory.  Trad climbing is often the gateway drug into Big Wall climbing just like 5k's and 10k's eventually lead to half marathons and full marathons.  Often times marathons lead into the ultimate challenge of Triathlons, Ironman's and Adventure Racing just as Trad and Big Wall climbing may one day lead to full-on mountaineering and alpine climbing.

I didn't add ice climbing to this list because I didn't want to unfairly place it somewhere.  I would probably put it alongside both the Trad and Mountaineering/Alpinism categories because the skillset is different than other forms of climbing, just as marathoning and ultra-marathoning are far different than your local 5k.  In marathons and beyond, you have to worry about replenishing nutrients midrace, unlike a 5k or 10k.

The comparison was just for fun, but if you have any comments feel free to leave them below.

Funkin' Foot

These last few days of having a hole in my foot have posed a bit of a problem.  I generally walk or bike to work, or anywhere else I need to go for that matter.  On Monday I was able to walk to work (my bike was still in the parking lot from not riding it home on Friday) since the hole had already begun to close over the weekend and was starting to feel better.  Thanks to the new hole the doc made that afternoon and the plastic apparatus he placed in there, I wouldn't be walking anywhere far.  By Tuesday afternoon I got fed up with my immobility and rode my bike home using mostly my left leg and very slight assistance from my right.  I could only place my heel on the pedal but I was able to travel pain free, sort of.  Stopping was a bit challenging because my natural tendency is to put my right foot down first.  Not smart.  I rode to and from work the next day and had the plastic insert removed that afternoon.  Now the wound could officially start to heal and I would be able to wear a shoe again.  NOW WE'RE TALKIN'!  Yesterday I was able to walk around without anyone noticing a problem.  My arch is still tender where the nail went in but it's healing nicely now.


So for the last week I kinda felt like this guy



The nail was the same size.  My reaction wasn't quite the same as Marv's, but it sure didn't tickle.  Today I'm finally able to wear a sock and shoe again, which means I can cover up the colossal funk that spawned from my foot being bandaged up for 7 days.   I can even ride my bike with my feet properly positioned on the pedals.  The doc says I should be completely pain free and ready to rumble within the next day or two.  WAHOO!  As much as I love having a 'get out of jail free' excuse for playing video games, I'm looking forward to playing outside again and getting back in the gym.  The guy I weaseled into climbing with me before all this happened will be away on vacation next week, but I've got him locked in for climbing the week after.  That gives me plenty of time to make up for the training I missed out on because of this:

After the hole was re-opened and slightly enlarged

Nailed Down

The two things I love to do the most are run and climb.  I've been hitting the trails more often to satisfy my burning desires to escape the cage that is my apartment.  I'm still lacking big time in the climbing department.  Being in Germany, you would expect me to have climbed in the Alps already.  Or at least on some mountain around here.  Neither is the case.  The tricky thing about climbing is finding a partner that you trust.  That trust doesn't come easy.  It generally requires multiple climbing sessions together and a thorough knowledge of the sport and its many risks.  Since departing the U.S. I have been severed (almost) from my trusty adventure partner and have yet to find a substitute.  Actually none of my friends are intrigued by the idea of climbing outside and so far only one has agreed to climb inside with me.  I jumped on the opportunity last week and weaseled him into going climbing tomorrow after work.  Friday afternoon, the plague returned.  In search of some wood for a freestanding hangboard I'm planning to build, I went dumpster diving in the bin at work.  I found a few pieces that I thought might serve a purpose in my design before a stealthy 1/8" nail found its way into the arch of my foot.

As signals of pain made their way to my brain I quickly raised my right leg and watched the 4" long nail reveal the other half inch that was previously residing in my foot.  Within 3 whole seconds after stepping on the nail I was out of the dumpster sitting on the ground with my shoe and sock torn off applying pressure to the hole in my foot.  Feeling embarrassed about not seeing the nail, I wanted to get somewhere that I could clean the wound and bandage it up before finding someone to take me to the hospital.  That plan only last about 90 seconds before I lost my calm and the lights went out after walking 50 yards.  I didn't even make it out of the parking lot.  Someone making a delivery lifted me off the ground and dragged me inside the security guard booth where I was given a glass of water.  I quickly came to and had to answer a bombardment of questions, in German.  I explained who I was, what I was doing and what had happened, also in German.  How's that for "Aware and Oriented x 5?"  I had to repeat the entire rundown again plus answer a few more questions when the paramedics arrived to wheel me away to the "Krankenhaus."

About an hour later they were about to discharge me before I started firing off a few questions of my own.  Not able to remember when I had my last tetanus shot, I wasn't too keen on walking out of their without one. I found it interesting that no one had confirmed whether I had had a tetanus shot recently.  I remember the paramedics saying something about it and I thought they meant that they were going to give me one once I got to the hospital.  False.  Now I realize that they were asking me if I had one and I mistakenly said yes.  So much for that German course.  Anyway, I asked the nurse if she was going to give me the shot.  When I explained that I had no idea when I had my last tetanus shot she consulted the doctor who informed her that it had to be within the last 5 years.  Definitely did not have a tetanus shot in the last 5 years.  She agreed it was best to give me the shot and let me on my way, after which I called a friend to come pick me up.

I spent the rest of the weekend with my feet up, surfing the internet and playing video games.  Monday came around and as instructed I went to see my doctor.  Yes I have a doctor here in Germany.  Mr. Agha  and his staff of nurses know me by first name.  He had to re-open the wound to let it bleed out to prevent infection.  With one nurse restraining each of my legs and one nurse on standby, Mr. Agha cut into my foot and recovered two hefty pieces of rubber originating from my shoe.  Thanks to the nurses at the hospital that did such a great job cleaning it out!  Before wrapping my foot in a whole roll of gauze the doc put some plastic apparatus in there to keep the wound open for the next two days.  "Wonderful."  I go back tomorrow to have it removed so the wound can finally start to heal properly.  Needless to say I won't be climbing tomorrow.

Back to Abnormal

A while back I proclaimed my intent to sign up at the gym here in Waldkraiburg.  I finally got around to doing so last Thursday.  I've been in the gym three times now (not including when I'll go today after work) and relishing in the familiar sensation of being sore.  Since coming to Germany I've physically tested my body on a number of occasions, but it's nothing like the workload I'm used to subjecting myself to back home.  I covet the daily 5 milers and 4+ days of climbing each week that were routine.  I've yet to obtain a car and my array of friends lacks interest in physical or outdoor endeavors.  This leaves me with limited options for companionship in kicking my own ass at the closest climbing gym or shredding my tips out on the cliffs.  That being said, going to the gym (regular gym) in conjunction with running and getting outside on my bike is seemingly a good way to spend my time in between the more lofty outdoor adventures.

However, this regimen isn't likely to feed my appetite for too long.  Sooner or later something has to give.  Perhaps after a few visits to the climbing gym I'll be able to track down some other loonies like myself to venture into the wilderness with.  If that doesn't happen it won't be long before I either start going insane or start planning a solo trip.  Outdoor pursuits aside, I'm back to being injury free and my fitness level is rapidly returning.  I won't say I'm 'back to normal' since many will argue that I don't particularly qualify for normal.  I weighed myself at the gym yesterday on their scale that also tells you body fat percentage.  5.9% with a healthy BMI of 20.5?  Yeah man, certainly back to abnormal.

Instinct

Running before work has not been successful.  Running after work has been alright though.  I replaced my shoes about 2 weeks ago after taking a look at what I'd been running on.  Every time I ran made my left calf muscle hurt more and more.  I think this is why:

Just a hunch

My orthodics are long past due for replacing as well, but they're insanely expensive.  I'm looking to get away from needing to wear them if I can.  A friend told me about a store that would be hosting a race.  Any store that hosts a race must have a few employees with solid running shoe knowledge, so I opted to check it out.  My assessment was dead on.  I could tell by the shoes that they carry that somebody there knew a thing or two about running shoes.  The selection was mostly Asics and Brooks but consisted of their top models.  I already knew my foot type and strike pattern, but I let the guy check me out anyway.  After trying on few different models I was pretty much sold on one pair.  The guy helping was trying to put me in a lesser known model from Brooks, but I wasn't having it.  Having read some reviews of this shoe, I knew what they were all about and they just didn't compare to the other models I had tried on.  It was a recent release that Brooks more or less decided to drop after it didn't receive the feedback they were looking for.  They have a great selection of running shoes and this didn't really add much to their line-up so they took it off their website.  I figured this guy was trying to get these shoes out of his stock so he could bring in a different model.  It's not uncommon for shoe stores to do this.  They will never put you in a shoe that isn't right for you, but if it's pretty close to a shoe that is right for you then they're going to push that one a bit harder to get it off their shelves.  No harm done, I just didn't want that shoe.  I walked out with a pair of Brooks Adrenaline GTS 10's.  I've run in several older versions of this shoe so I was familiar with the fit and feel.

While at the store I couldn't help but sign up for the race.  Sure, I wasn't in very good shape having not run for a month or better because of that ugly hamstring injury, but this was just for fun.  Hmmm, fun.  I didn't get much training in during the following week because of work.  A bunch of Netzsch employees, and distributors, from America came to Germany for a water treatment conference.  I went to the conference on Wednesday and got invited to dinner with our guests on three days out of out of the week.  Saturday came up fast and I had only run on Monday.  Oh yeah, I'm so ready for this race.  I woke up at 7AM to get ready and decided to take a glance at the race flyer.  The race was on Sunday.  After double checking the date against my watch and my cell phone, I hopped back into bed for a few extra hours of sleep.  I made sure not to waste the day and went out for a few miles later on.

7AM came again Sunday morning and I made sure to eat and hydrate well before the race.  My friends came to pick me up an hour before the gun would go off, and asked which distance I was planning to run.  A bit confused, I justed looked at them.  I had been thinking this was a 5k and found out that the race was set up for 7k, 14k and 21k.  I should pay more attention to what I sign up for.  I settled on running the 7k but wondered why the obscure distance.  I realized the logic once I did the conversion to miles.  21k is about 13 miles or a half marathon.  We got to the start with about a half hour until the start and the friends I'd soon be running with didn't appear too concerned with warming up.  Short on time, I went to get a few laps and some drills in before the gun.  I was really just planning to treat this race like a normal training run but when I heard that gun, instinct took over.  I strode out with the leaders for a while before settling into a rhythm.  About a mile in, the first hill appeared.  It didn't look all that bad so I approached it with liberal speed and shortened my stride a bit.  When I got the to top I realized no one was opening up on the downhill.   This was my chance to let gravity take over and move up a bit.  I kept with this strategy throughout the race and managed to work my way up quite nicely.  At the 1km to go mark I started eying up the runners ahead of me.  They didn't look much like kickers which left me wide open to pass on by.  I silently closed the gap before hittin' the throttle at 200meters.  I crossed the line at 33 minutes and feeling great.  My friend who wasn't racing told me that I had finished in 8th place.  Hmm, not too shabby.  I suspect that most of the serious runners opted for the 14 and 21k races.  My time wasn't anything to brag about but the race was fun and I was happy to be running at my normal pace again.  More training and more racing await.  Next year I'm going after the 21k!

Untimely Motivation

I started the weekend off by going to the beerfest in Mühldorf this weekend, spending yet another night in my proper 'German' attire.  The climax of the night had to be when my friends got me to stand up on the table with them and taught me a very interesting dance to a popular folk song.  Friends from the table across from us thought it was hilarious and captured the act with their cameras and phones.  I'm venturing that the pictures will surface on facebook eventually.  Perhaps I'll share them here, if I don't destroy the evidence first.  Some friends wanted to go again on Saturday night.  I reluctantly went along as I did not want to be out too late the night before an early morning ride.  As it turns out, my friend and I were right in not wanting to go as the entire place was packed.  Reminder: beerfests are like carnivals with all the rides and such, and they serve lots of beer in 1 Liter mugs.  Saturday is the most popular night to go and there was not one seat left in the house.  After over an hour of endlessly walking around in an unsuccessful search of a place to sit down, eat and drink, my friend and I decided we'd had enough and went home.  I didn't bother to ask him if he went back to pick them up later as he said he would.  He was pretty heated about event, as his girlfriend was the one that insisted on going and then decided that we had to find a table rather than just heading to the bar.  So I decided not to bring it up with him again.

I was happy to get home early, in anticipation of the mountain biking ride scheduled for the following day.  Sundays are the day for the weekend warrior to embark on adventure since there isn't much else to do.  No stores or businesses are open.  So aside from house work, blahhh house work, Sundays are best for getting outside.  However, after settling into bed I got a text message from my biking partner telling me that he was in dire need of a rest day.  A bit bummed, I understood completely.  Some days you just need a break.  Instead I decided on going for a run, and not a 12k.  I backed it down to 5 miles today and kept the pace down as well.  I didn't feel all that great since I hadn't eaten anything yet, but dismissed the feeling in favor of capitalizing on the present surge of motivation.  I paid the price.  Just 2 minutes into the run I could feel that my breathing was a notch faster than usual and that my stomach felt like it was imploding.  That's more or less what it was doing; eating away at every bit of fat/energy left inside me.  It was one of those runs that you just have to battle through.  Couldn't motivation have waited until after I had eaten?  On a positive note, my hamstring didn't cause me any pain today.  I didn't even notice any tension. 'Sighs of relief.'

My plan this week is to run in the mornings before work.  I always tell myself that I'm going to start running in the morning but I've yet to really commit.  I might go once or twice before concluding that I'm still too tired for this crap at 5AM.  I get plenty of sleep as I am generally in bed by 10:30 during the week, so I can't play that card.  The issue is that my body is simply used to getting up at 7, regardless of what time I went to bed the night before.  It's routine.  So I just have to force myself into getting up at 5, hmm maybe 6, until my body adapts and accepts it as routine.  Come on motivation!!!!

On a side note, I replaced the tube to my camelbak a few months ago after it was claimed by mold.  The bladder isn't so difficult to dry out as you can generally find something to stick inside it (aside from the thing that camelbak sells) to let air in.  But how do you get air into the tube without taking the valve off?  What's your solution camelbak users?  Do you hang it upside down or something?  I'd like to find an effective remedy so I don't have to replace any more tubes in the near future.  I can sense someone telling me to read the instruction manual.  But when do guys read instruction manuals?

Time to kick the plague

That ugly bruise on my hamstring has disappeared completely.  It didn't give me any problems during my last biking trip either.  Both good signs that I'm pretty excited about.  I went out for a short run last week, thinking that an easy 5km would be alright.  It probably would have if I hadn't changed my mind.  The 5k loop that I was planning on doing is 100% flat and the scenery, while a nice wooded area, is the same throughout and I wanted something a bit more interesting.  So I decided to change course and follow a trail that parallels the roadway and eventually enters a town that a friend of mine lives in.  Having made the trip by car several times I had a feel for the distance and estimated that it would take me about an hour to run out-and-back.  This run is much more interesting.  I arrived at my turn-around-point at approximately 33 minutes.  Right on target.  I had taken the pace a bit slower than usual so I could pay more attention to how my hamstring was holding up.  It was a bit tight, along with my calf, so I took a few minutes to stretch before making my way back.  I knew from the start that there was a well known hill that I would have to climb on the way back.  This was what I came for.  Still feeling OK, I decided to keep the pace down as I had on the way out.  Better not to push it too far yet.  Nearly 10 minutes later I was facing the hill.  Long and rather steep looking.  Short strides, lean forward.  No problem.  I was up the hill in no time and not feeling beat up at all.  I made it back at 68 minutes.  After cleaning up and getting dinner I logged the run at mapmyrun.com and discovered that my 5k turned into 12k (7.82 miles) and that my pace was around 8:30/mile.  Around a minute slower than usual.  Given the mileage and my usual pace, I would have normally clocked in around 58 minutes.  How bout that 1 hour estimate?

There's still a small knot lingering in my hamstring, but it's getting smaller and should be gone within another week or so.  I'm going to chance it on a bike trip into the mountains on Sunday.  I can't wait to kick this plague of injuries.  I haven't done much climbing since I've gotten here, but I'm looking to remedy that next weekend in Frankenjura.  Depending on how my finger reacts, I may opt to get it checked out.  I'm pretty fed up with not being able to climb on it.  It's about time to figure out what's wrong with it so I can do what's needed to get back to climbing status.

In addition I'm looking to get back to running status.  I've been wanting to get into racing shape for some time and I've got enough motivation built up right now to do it.  A friend of mine suggested the Leadville Trail 100 to me and it got me psyched.  This ultramarathon is in Leadville, CO and loops around 100 miles of the Rocky Mountains and climbs nearly 3,000 ft.  Although mostly known for the 100 mile mountain bike race, they also host a number of shorter races.  I'm really psyched on training for the marathon.  Not quite as bad ass as the 100, but it still looks awesome.  I figure on running it after I'm officially back from Germany, so that gives me more than a year to train properly.  I've got good opportunity to run at altitude here since I'm fairly close to the Alps.  I plan on signing up for a few road and/or trail races to supplement my training here and get used to racing longer distances again.  At this point I'm not looking to beat any specific time since this will be my first ever marathon, and a rough one at that.  This will be solely about enjoying the run, the people and the course.  I'm looking forward to training at full strength once this hamstring injury lets up.

Alps Trip Rewind

The recap of my recent trip to the Alps is a bit tardy but it will have to do.  No, Alps does not always mean snow, but it does mean AWESOME!  Netzsch owns/rents a cabin in Zillertal, Austria that houses 12 people if you follow the rated capacity (dirtball climbers could fit way more).  We rallied up 10 people, some from Netzsch along with their respective ball and chain, for a weekend full of drinking and grilling.  While most had no plans of leaving the cabin, a few of us only figured on sleeping there.  Four of us brought our mountain bikes and set out to explore the surrounding mountains.

We hit the trails, in this case paved or gravel roads, at 8AM.  Our "veteran" leader had advised us all to eat well and not drink too much or stay up too late.  What do you know, he's the one with a wicked hangover while the rest of us are ready to tear it up.  I took point with the drunkard's girlfriend and began the climb.  Starting at about 900 meters above sea level, we climbed 1000 more up to about 2000 meters at the peak.  This was my first trip riding with clipless pedals and I absolutely loved it.  Cyclists praise them for the additional power and efficiency you gain, especially while riding uphill.  I concur.  I felt much more connected with my bike (nah, really?) and felt like I had more control.  Aside from struggling to click in when starting back up, I only had one fall because of the pedals.  That's because my dumb ass thought I was slick and clipped one foot in before trying to start up again after we had paused in the middle of hill.  Well I had some trouble getting started again and the foot I wanted to put on the ground to stabilize myself was clicked in.  So down I went.  I got back up and started off again, without clicking in until I was moving steadily.  

During water breaks we'd peer over the staggered switchbacks to see how our "leader" was doing.  Nearly to the top, his hangover began to fade and he caught up (we waited a bit).  At the top we took a break to have lunch and refill on water before tackling the downhill section.  I normally hesitate to build up too much speed on downhills for fear that a rock or root I didn't avoid in time would send me flying over the handle bars and down the mountain.  Feeling a bit more in tune with my bike that day, I decided to try ramping up the speed a bit.  Flying sounds fun anyway, so what the heck?  The only time this decision caught up with me was when two guys on ATV's came flying up the trail around a bend and I had to slam on the brakes to avoid being obliterated by one of them.  I managed to get off trail in time and stop my bike, but my body continued moving in an upward pivot around my front tire and then slammed down onto the frame once gravity took over.  I had a nice bruise from it that went away in a few days.  

After that we struggled to find this small trail that spurs off from the main one and would lead us back to the cabin.  We never found that trail and ended up going down a bit further than planned.  This meant riding back up 300 meters of steep elevation to get back to the cabin.  The way back was marked with trail signs and the group gave me the green light.  ;-}  After the long downhill section I was feeling well recovered and ready for some climbing.  What seemed like endless switchbacks finally lead me to the cabin.  When greeted by the cabin crew and asked where the others were, my only reply was "hinter" meaning "behind."  When the next member of our group came in, the cabin crew suggested that I was been back for a half hour already.  Since they were mostly drunk and I was the one wearing the watch, I say it was only 10 minutes.  I managed to snap some pictures during the ride a few pics of the outside of our cabin.  Have a look here.

Battle Gear

I came into work Monday morning intending to start some testing with the concept pump, right after sipping a cup of coffee while putzing around on the internet until 8 o'clock, per usual.  8 o'clock came and I was informed that a pump we had been running an endurance test on had erupted.  I quickly realized why I hadn't heard the normal buzzing of the pump on my way in to work.  It was not because the test was finally finished.  The pump was finished.  It hurled the ceramic slurry it was pumping all over the lab, which then began to flow outside.  I don't know the volume of the tank, but I'm sure a few pics will give you an idea of the sloppy mess that I would be tasked with cleaning up.

 The tank all covered in gooo!

The wall too

I can't show the pump, but you get the idea.  We haven't figured out what went wrong yet, but the splatter patterns tell us that a valve was likely closed and the pump started building pressure.  That pressure eventually has to go somewhere, so it found a way out.  All over the floor too.

This stuff is a ceramic compound that gets super thick and clumpy when it starts to dry.  It's almost like a clay.  This was sure to be a mess so I needed some battle gear.

 Duck boots

Coveralls

Now that I was all suited up, hazmat style, I went to work.  The first thing on the list was to get it out.  I had to get majority of the floor cleaned up before I could go to work on uncovering the pump.  Against my better judgement, I opened up the gate, grabbed the water hose and squeegee and started washing it out of the lab.  This stuff was pretty thick so I wasn't so sure it should go down the sewer drain, but that's what I was told to do.  So on with the show.

I knew this stuff was going to go all over as I continued adding water.  So I built a blockade!

My blockade, ahem! Containment barrier.

Eventually enough people got upset seeing me wash this crud down the storm drain and called the professional in.  I didn't argue one bit as most of the responsibility went from my hands to his.  A guy came with big truck capable of sucking all the crap out of the drain and cleaning off the lot.  Afterwards he blasted the pipeline with high pressure water to be sure that it wasn't clogged up.  The good news is no one was upset about the whole thing and no fingers were pointed.  Oh man if this shit happened in the US?  This would not fly.

Anyway, they had someone else come in and clean up the lab the next day.  I haven't been down to look at it yet, but I've been told it looks a lot better.  Perhaps I'll be able to do the testing I had planned sometime next week.

Full Throttle

For the past week I've been waking up scratching at bumps that weren't there the night before.  Don't get excited, I recognized them as spider bites.  I've had my fair share of them being as how I spend a good deal of time in mountainous activities and I've learned to distinguish them from other bites or forms of poison ivy.  But how am I getting all these spider bites at night?  In my apartment?  Then I saw him, the teeny tiny little critter responsible for my mysterious itching.  He managed to escape me on our first encounter, but I'll be looking for him.  I was hoping he may just decide to leave but this morning I walked through a tiny web he created across the archway into my living room.  Beware little buddy.  Authorities have been instructed to squish on site.

The bruise on my hamstring has nearly vanished but it's not quite ready for the rigors of climbing, mountain biking or running yet.  Soon enough though.  I'm heading to a cabin in the mountains of Austria in two weeks.  A few us are bringing our bikes up, so my ham better be ready by then.  The weekend after is the reschedule date of the climbing trip in Frankenjura that I had to bail on a few weeks ago.  Injuries don't really agree with my full-throttle personality but they come with the lifestyle I live.

None of my current injuries kept me off the go-kart track yesterday though.  The track was super slick from all the rain the night before, but my friends had already made the reservation and they don't let you reschedule.  So we gave it a go.  The corners were streaked with black rubber along the line that most drivers take around each bend.  On most days this a good indicator of the best line to take around the turn, but not today.  Rubber on rubber makes for horrible traction when water is involved.  So we took the turns high and wide.  Most of the time.  I quickly learned that if you tried to brake in the blackened areas of rubber while going into a turn, you were guaranteed to spin out.  And I did, dozens of times.  So high and wide, no exceptions.  By the time I got a feel for the track, the kart and the conditions, it was too late.  The race was practically over and I was getting owned by the other drivers.  It was still a ton of fun though.  The karts go pretty fast and you have to wear a full helmet.  Next time I'll know better and hopefully the conditions will be better.  I'll be out for redemption and it will be full throttle the whole way.

And the smoothies too

Before I had the chance to go climbing this past weekend, I pulled my hamstring the week before while warming up for a casual company soccer match.  Raining and somewhat cool out, I did not warm up enough before doing a few sprints before the match started.  The miscalculation cost me to sit out the game and continue to hobble for the next few days.  It wasn't until a week later that I finally noticed the gruesome bruise on the back of my leg.  It scared the absolute crap out of me.  I was familiar with the pain having injured both of my hamstrings on multiple occasions.  Such a bruise has never accompanied any of my past injuries.

Nearly two weeks after the event, the bruise has begun to fade and the pain minimized.  I can walk around and ride my bike with no pain, but I have yet to try anything much more physical.  Frequent stretching has told me that this little bastard intends to stick around for a while longer.  Being as I am not one to sit still for too long, I plan on signing up for gym within the week.  "Jim, you just said you pulled your hamstring."  Yeah yeah yeah, shut face.  I've rehabbed myself enough to know how to cross train and work other muscles when one isn't feeling up to snuff.  I've got a plan, no worries.  About this gym though.

I haven't paid a membership to many gyms other than the climbing gym, but I know that they generally hold a fairly hefty price tag.  So when I came across this gym in town offering a membership for 20 Euro per month, I had to see what was up.  Bottom line, the gym is nice.  Very good equipment.  So for 20/month (flat rate) you get basic gym usage whenever you want.  For 30 Euro per month however, you get unlimited gym usage, unlimited access to the "help yourself" smoothie bar, access to the vibraflex machines and access to the tanning beds.  You bet your ass I want the all-inclusive package.  The point that really sold me was the vibraflex machines.  I'll try to explain for those that aren't familiar.  The simplest version is a platform that vibrates about two axis.  To use the machine, you stand on the platform and do things like lunges and squats.  You can also do push ups and dips on it.  The basic principle is two-fold.  First, it forces you to balance and engages more muscles in the exercise.  Second, the thing vibrates at 30Hz.  That means your muscles contract 30 times per second.  I've used one before at a rehab facility after having surgery on a torn meniscus.  Well it worked.  So I'm pretty excited to have the same machines available at this gym at such a low membership fee.  OK, so I want the smoothies too.

Supplementary Habits

The two-week “you thought you were finished with school sucker!” German course is officially finished and I am now a professional in the art of Deutsch sprechen. Sike! My German still sucks but I’m speaking much better than I was when I got here. When anyone gives me crap I just tell them I’m American. Surprisingly I haven’t been beat up for that yet.

So the status of my climbing-injured finger doesn’t appear to have changed since the last time I tried to hang on the trim molding around the door. I’m going climbing next weekend anyway. A climbing friend from the States lives a few hours from me and invited me up to her place to climb. Since I am a known masochistic outdoor adventurer, I accepted. I plan on taping my fingers up to the point of nearly cutting off circulation and hopping on a few easy climbs before succumbing to taking my rightful place as belay bitch for the rest of the day. I’ll also be taking my fancy camera along to snap some sweet shots of the area. Regardless of my level of success at climbing next weekend, it should be a fun trip.

I really do miss climbing though. It’s nearing 3 months since the last time I climbed anything more enthralling than the 3 flights of steps it takes to get to my apartment. If I don’t notice any progress in healing then I will have to temporarily supplement my climbing addiction with other endeavors. Namely running, mountain biking, drinking large amounts of German beer while meeting excessively attractive fräuleins, reading novels and playing games that distract me from anything productive and OCCASIONALLY dabbling in the study of the German language. Hmm, on second thought I better bump the “language study” part up a few notches in priority since it currently conflicts with the potential for meeting said excessively attractive fräuleins. I better get on that.

Lay down the hammer!

Has anyone been watching the World Cup lately?  Given the time that it airs in the States, probably not.  We have the advantage of the games airing at 4PM and 8:30PM.  I remember people skipping class to see the games during my freshman year at Widener.  If you think that's a bit overboard, you should see how big the WC is over here.  They have huge tv screens outside at some places for public viewing.  Biergartens are the most popular site to be at for gametime.  Imagine the outdoor seating at your local sports bar, multiply that by about 6 and then add a 1 Liter mug of beer in each observer's hand.  Then you're getting close.  Don't forget that Germany is still in the running to win the whole thing.  Remember when the Phils won the Word Series?  That's how ALL of Germany will be if they win the cup.  The Germans have incredible national pride and don't hesitate to show it one bit.  People were driving around blowing their black, red and gold vuvuzelas and honking their horns after Germany beat England.  Mind you it was about 10:30PM when this happend.  Damn vuvuzelas.

I was in Munich for the game against Argentinia.  This was expected to be a tough match for Germany, but that first goal set them on a rampage that ended in a 4-0 shut out.  Aufwiedersehen Argeninia!  I won't be going back to Munich for the game on Wednesday.  I'll suffice for watching it on my friend's nice HDTV.

After the Argentina game I went to a bar with a few friends and played my first German drinking game.  It wasn't much of a drinking game except that it is incredibly more difficult, and entertaining, when drunk.  Additinionally the loser buys the next round of drinks.  Anyway, the game is played on the top of a large log.  More like a tree stump honestly.  It's 2 feet in diameter and about 3 feet off the ground.  Table height.  Each player is given a standard nail, the kind with a nice, big, flat head to aim for.  The game starts by tapping the nail into the log with a hammer, just barely enough to get it to stand up.  Now the fun starts.  Each player must hit their nail into the log until the nailhead is flush or below the surface.  But you have to do it with the opposite side of a pick hammer.  Like this one:

Get the idea now?  To make matters more difficult, you are not allowed to place the hammer overtop the nail during the wind up.  You have to start your swing with the pick end touching the edge of the log.  One upstroke and lay down the hammer!  Add a few beers and this game is way more fun than beer pong.  The first person to sink their nail into the log completely is the winner and the last person to do so must buy the next round of drinks.  Then it's game on again!  Oh yeah, and don't put your drink on the log (table).

M&M

So it would seem like I'm due for another post.  Well get comfortable.  I've got some catching up to do here.

To star things off, I have to talk about my first trip to Munich.  I was scheduled to go there for a language course lasting one week.  Classes were roughly 9-4 with a 45min lunch break.  During that week I stayed with a family that collaborates with the firm that I took the course through.  They more or less rent a room out a student taking a course there, with the cost being built into the overall cost for the course.  Work paid for the whole enchilada so I wasn't too worried about that.  Anyhow, I took a train into Munich and it was like no other train I've been on.  First off all, I walked in and saw stairs.  Stairs on a train???  Heck yeah, I'm goin' up!  It was a double decker train.  The train had rows upon rows of bucket-style seats, never more than two per row, with some rows faced towards each other for groups traveling together.  Each seat was generously padded and had a small trashcan, with a lid, at each window seat.  This thing was clean.  The train ride took about 45 minutes but along the way I noticed a few people wearing backpacks.  Not just regular backpacks, backpacking backpacks.  Climbing backpacks, with climbing shoes attached to the outside.  I knew I was heading in the right direction.  I had already researched a few climbing gyms in Munich so I knew their had to be a shop with climbing gear somewhere in this city.  I would be on the hunt.

When I got off the train, I took a taxi to the family I would stay with for the week.  Let me tell you about this taxi.  It is NOTHING like what you would find in Philly or NY.  All the taxi's here are Mercedes with full leather interior.  Some are sedans and some are station wagons.  There is no barrier between you and the driver.  It honestly feels like riding with a personal chauffeur more than riding in a taxi.  The rearview mirror has a few buttons and the meter display, showing you travel distance and fair price in real time.  Lastly the drivers aren't Arabic or any crap like that.  Just regular ass men trying to earn a living.  Not a bunch of dirtballs either.  Anyway, when I got the house I met the man of the household first and was pleasantly surprised by his friendliness.  Combined with strong English speaking skills, I felt very relieved.  We exchanged stories over coffee and I learned that he is an artist for a living.  He mainly does sculptures with stones.  Sometimes the sculptures take up a while wall or room.  Some are meant to be centerpieces inside large buildings or offices.  You know how companies like to jazz up their buildings these days.  Half of his time is spent on his artwork and the other half is spent painting houses.  Gotta pay the bills somehow.  I think it's pretty admirable that he's found a way to live his passion while still managing to be a good provider to his family.

So, the language course.  I took the subway into Munich, which by most counts is very convenient and cheap.  I bought a pass that allowed me to ride any of the subway lines and buses for the entire week for about 13€.  I'd call that a deal.  Once I got to the course, I realized that I would be sitting one-on-one with an instructor.  I expected this.  What I wasn't quite ready for was how much German this instructor was going to spit at me right off the bat.  She started talking at me like I should understand.  When I informed her that I didn't understand, she continued to try and explain, in German, what she just said.  Did you not fuckin' hear me?  NO ENTIENDO DEUTSCH DUMBASS!  Mind you I took a fairly inclusive entry exam online several weeks before arriving.  Upon filing out this exam, I was also asked to indicate my background in German.  ZERO.  So when this lady started speaking to me in German and getting upset when I didn't understand her, I wanted to curse her out and ask her if she bothered to read my file.  Eventually she got a whiff of what I was trying to tell her and she began speaking a little English.  However, the tone remained much the same as she continued to teach mostly speaking German and expecting me to be able to understand.  Since nearly every  word she spoke was new to me as of the moment she spoke it, it took a while before I was able to dissect what she was saying.  This wasn't like any class you'd come across at a university.  I was mostly being talked at instead of getting any kind of explanation.  Since I don't do well with being talked at, it took a lot of self control to keep my thoughts to caged up and just take notes.  Lunch came and I couldn't have bee more happy to escape.  I walked around the block to see what kind of shops were nearby and settled on a sandwich place before making my way back to the class.  The second half of the day was with a different instructor.  He followed a similar pattern of talking German at me except that I could barely decipher his words.  His pronunciation was horrible.  At least I could pick out words when the other instructor spoke, even though I didn't know what they meant.  I had to stop him a bunch of times, but I made it through the rest of the day.

When the next day started off the same way as the first I had had enough.  I needed to set the tone now if I was going to get anything out of this course.  I set her straight pretty quick and she began speaking more English.  The day went much better afterward.  It was a little frustrating when she wasn't able to translate certain words.  I wasn't remembering certain words that she had mentioned the day before.  For instance, she mentioned three words that she said all meant "for" but in different ways.  Well that doesn't help.  How am I supposed to know when to use which one if you can't tell me the differences?  I got pretty pissed off and made a note to look this words up when I got home.  Google translator revealed the secret that she could not explain.  One word actually meant "for", another meant "since" and the other meant "at."  Trusty ole Google.  I informed her of the translations I had found and she immediately agreed.  So why couldn't you explain that yesterday?  Grrrr.  I had a different guy in the afternoon and I much preferred his approach.  He began with some German but actually asked if I understood and then proceeded to go over it, in English, so I could understand.  He was much more methodical about how he taught.  I was much happier.

The rest of the week got a little better.  I still got frustrated occasionally, but that's mostly because I've been trained as an engineer to ask questions until I know exactly how it works and why.  I was looking for a little more insight to how the grammar works and for some clearer, more literal, translations of some words so I would know when and how to use them.  After some pestering and some research I got what I was after.  I continued taking notes and firing off questions when I needed to.  Since they threw so much at me in one week, my plan was to just keep it all organized and then study it later.  It would have been way too much to try and memorize right away.  Note cards and post-it notes have been doing wonders.

So after the course was over around 4, I want walking around Munich.  I wanted to explore a bit.  I was hunting for something.  Mission 1 was to find a French Press.  My flat came equipped with an electric kettle that makes hot water in less than 2 minutes.  With that in mind I figured I didn't really need to buy a coffee maker.  A French Press would be cheaper, doesn't need wasteful paper filters and I'd be able to pack it easily when traveling.  The problem was I hadn't been able to find one in the small town of Waldkraiburg.  I figured Munich had to have one.  So I started off down what looked to be a main strip of stores.  The first store that caught my attention was one selling backpacks.  All kinds, from school bags to handbags.  I came across a 28L Deuter pack.  Since I was in need of something small enough for a bike trip but large enough to hold some gear, I snagged it.  The aluminum frame was nice, but I think the built-in rain cover is what really sold me.  So I checked out, put my books from class inside and slung it over my shoulder.  Onward.

I was in need of a new pair of shoes.  Nothing sport specific, just something comfortable but with a bit of style.  I sure picked the right street because there were a LOT of shoe stores.  I stopped in a few of them, but kept on moving when I didn't exactly what I was looking for.  The first sign of potential came when I stumbled upon a Timberland store.  They had some cool stuff, but I didn't want to make any hasty decisions because I saw a Columbia store just across the street.  They had an interesting selection but I wasn't quite sold.  There was a nice rain shell I might go back for though...  Moving on.

I was making my way a little further down when I was surprised to see a Starbucks.  I didn't really plan on going in until I saw the French Press sitting on the shelf.  HARD RIGHT!  I swooped right in and nabbed it.  I got a coffee too.

My last stop of the day was at North Face.  It was happy to find a few outdoor retailers around.  I walked straight back to the shoe rack and began to assess their stock.  Not too shabby.  I walked around the rest of the store before coming back to the shoes to make my decision.  I walked out with these.

The next day after class I walked down the same street, passing by all that I saw the day before, and continued my hunt.  I still hadn't found everything that I was looking for.  I found a whole bunch of shops that kinda reminded me of Modells or Dick's Sporting Good.  They seemed to have a surplus of your typical sports equipment.  Biking, hockey, running, soccer, swimming etc...  Not quite what I was after.  I was getting  to the fourth sports store of the day when I arrived at Schuster Sporthaus.  Tons and tons of sporting equipment.  Everything you could possibly think of for fitness.  The first floor was covered in Soccer gear.  The second floor was mostly running shoes and clothing.  The THIRD had mountainbikes, roadbikes, triathlon bikes and whatever else you can think of or need for a bike.  The fourth floor was mostly hiking and outdoor clothing.  This is when I started to drool over how awesome this store was.  The fifth floor sent my jaw dropping even further when I saw all the backpacking and hiking gear.  I nearly lost it when I saw the mannequin at the top of the stairwell leading to the sixth floor.  He had a harness on with cams, biners and slings on it!  Racing up the stairs I found what has the be one of the most amazing assortment of climbing gear in one place.  Endless amounts of shoes, biners, draws, slings, rope, and pro!  I'll let the pictures do the talking.  Check out the "Munich" pictures.

After experiencing Munich for a week it was back to Waldkraiburg.  Lame.  Before getting back to the daily obligatory task more aptly known as work, I went on my first mountain biking trip in Germany.  I went with a friend from work and his girlfriend.  We piled in the car at the ass-crack-o-dawn for the 1 hour ride to Rosenheim.  Our intention was to ride the trails around Samerberg.  (berg means mountain).  We ended up doing so without a GPS.  Needless to say, we took a few "unfortunate" turns and occasionally found ourselves attempting to climb what were clearly trails intended for downhill riding.  Oops.  Still a fantastic ride.  The landscape here is absolutely amazing, not to mention a few animals...  Again, the pictures will explain it better than my blabbering.  Check out the "First MTB trip in Germany."

Now it was back to work.  Things are starting to pick up as I'm becoming more involved in the project now.  I've been popping out 3D drawings like it's my job....  But I still managed to get my ass on the track a few times for some workouts.  I was recently introduced to some running trails that are labeled for 5k, 7k, 10k and 15k.  I hit up the 5k trail last week after tacking on 3 miles beforehand.  Next time I'll be after that 10k or 15k!

Now I'm back in Munich for one more week of this dreaded language course.  I did the note-card thing like I planned but I know that I'm going to fumble for the right words when the professor asks me something.  Or I just won't understand what she's saying.  Either way I'll be happier when this week is over and I can continue to learn German at my own pace and in my own way.  I'll let my computer teach me. (Rosetta Stone!)

Seeing as how my hands are cramping from typing this run-on post, I'm gonna call it quits for now.  Over and out.

The latest of late

I've passed the due date for my weekly expat update.  I got lazy, get over it.  I'm pretty settled in at work, plugging away with drawings and designs.  A component here, a piece there... the work is adding up but it's all manageable.  Mostly simple things that need to be drawn and dimensioned so we can find out the cost to manufacture it.  One piece at a time, it'll all get done.

The search for a sick mountain bike is over.  I wanted to get a bike that I could take into the REAL mountains out here.  Something I don't have to worry about collapsing underneath of me when I land a jump off some rocks.  I wanted to be sure that it had good components that would last.  There is no doubt that I have found and purchased the right bike.  It's green!

The components are a respectable level of Shimano (XT-combo) with a solid full suspension and disc brakes.  Time to tear it up in the mountains!  A guy from work is going to take me out to break it in during one of the coming weekends, when the weather breaks.

This past weekend I found the laundry mat.  Just in time.  Until recently getting the gear and clothing that I mailed to myself, I was running low on clothes.  More specifically I was running low on underwear, even after the relief shipment.  So I was on a mission to find the laundry mat this weekend.  I asked a fellow apartment dweller if he knew of a place in town where I could do my wash.  After quickly explaining, in German, that my German was still horrible he went to get his son who surprisingly speaks English pretty well.  He then explained to me where the laundry mat was.  Off I went and no such luck.  Right where the kid told me to go was a dry cleaner.  Balls.  I couldn't blame the kid, I could "clean" my clothes here.  Just not in the manner I was looking for.  I peeked in the store to find no washers or dryers.  No dice.  Onward.  After cruising around the small town for a while I started to realize that they would not put something as boring as a laundry mat along the main strips.  I started looking to some of the bordering side streets, making a perimeter around the somewhat circular downtown area that is Waldkraiburg.  My logical reasoning had paid off.  Just barely off the main strip, just enough not to be an eyesore, was the laundry mat that I was looking for.  I happily pulled out the bag of clothes from my pack and followed the instructions above the washer.  Coming prepaired, I settled into the book that I'd brought along for the wait.  After making some generous progress in the pages of my book, I retrieved my now clean and dry clothes and headed for home.  That's not before stopping off at small burger joint on the way.  It was a little sloppy to be honest, as I was not expecting this to be a fast food type of place given the appeal of the outside.  Just the same I happily drank my coffee and ate my double cheeseburger.

The way they serve coffee here.  Real coffee has froth!

The rest of the weekend was fairly uneventful as I chose to read for most of the day.  After getting restless from sitting for hours, changing positions trying to avoid getting stiff, I could no longer resist the urge to run.  I had only gone for a run once since my running shoes came in with the rest of my gear.  The roads were calling and I could deny them no longer.  Mindlessly suiting up in my moisture wicking runner shorts and shirt, I strapped on my Nike watch and took to the streets.  Whenever I find myself in a new place, I generally look to a run to get a feel for my surroundings.  I took this opportunity to venture out beyond where I had already ridden my bike.  The trails around here are incredible.  A vast amount of the roads here are accompanied by nearby forest and have trails that run parallel to them.  Some are close to the roadway and serve as walking and bike trails for general travel.  I hoped on one such trail that follows the contour of a fairly popular road, one that I was confident would continue for a long time and would permit me to run without dwelling on my direction.  I made a good choice.  This road was endless and the trails re-connected as intersections broke the gravel path I ran on.  At one point the road would be sandwiched between to thick walls of pine and then suddenly fan out into the open fields of farmland.  Enjoying the scenery a bit too much I noticed the winds pick up.  Not too far off were the storm clouds I was looking for.  At nearly 25 minutes into my run it was time to shift gears and head home before mother nature decided to unleash havoc.  I made it back before the clouds did, getting out of shower just when the thunder and lightening began to pick up.  Perfect timing.  Then I made chicken carbonara with pasta for dinner.

The past week or so I've been gearing up for this presentation on I project I'd spent a lot of time working on before departing for Germany.  The presentation was to be delivered to some upper management folk here at NETZSCH Germany.  That presentation was today.  Presidents, department managers, research and development directors, etc.  Seven people in all, but each exceptionally important to the company in a different way.  My presentation lasted for nearly two hours as I had expected it.  What I had not expected was the amount of positive feedback and praise for all the work I had put into this project and presentation.  My boss' boss's boss.....the guy in charge of the department I work in, awarded me 1000 € as a bonus for coming to work in Germany and giving such a good presentation on my project. WHAT!?!?!?!?!  Sweet deal.  It's almost like I didn't drop a whole paycheck on that bike....

Week 2

Week two has commenced and I'm starting to settle in.  Work is getting more interesting.  I've been given the task of retro-fitting our pump to fit into the dimensional constraints of a competitor's pump.  Basically we have a customer that doesn't like our competitor's pump anymore and wants to put ours in it's place.  The pipework has already been fitted to the dimensions of this other pump and the customer doesn't want to redo everything.  So I get to design some mods to our pump to that it will fit.  I spent the last week drawing up some ideas in 3D (since everything is done in 3D here).  Real design work!  Sometime next week we'll talk about it and decide what we're going to do.

I still haven't gotten my clothes and gear from customs yet.  Someone from our shipping department contacted me about a packing list and a declaration of goods.  I had to confirm that there were no alcohol, drugs or weapons in my stuff.  With all documents forwarded along, all I can do now is wait for them to finish and tell me when I can pick it all up.  I hope it's soon.  I've been rotating between 3 sweaters and two pairs of jeans for the last two weeks.  I think the guys at work are catching on.

After going to the bank and making a few calls to my bank in the US, I discovered that I can't just transfer money from one bank to the other.  I don't understand why not.  If I have the account number it doesn't seem all that difficult to me.  I pay my bills just by supplying an account number.  I wonder if I could set up a bill payment to my German bank account....  Anyway, I found out that I get free international withdraws from ATM's and that I can take out up to $1000 per day.  Not a bad deal to be honest.  I can take out money at the ATM outside the bank and then walk in and deposit it.  I also avoid any kind of transfer fee.  Good deal.

Earlier this week I got a few particulars about the language course I'm supposed to take.  Starting June 7th I'll live with a host-family in München for a week while I attend the course.  The course lasts from 9-4 each day and is said to be pretty intense.  The program requires living with the host family in order to totally immerse you in the language and force you to use what you've learned.  It's going to be pretty wild.  The good  news is that I won't have to worry about work stuff while I'm there.  After this week, there is a 2 week break before I return for a second week.  I'm looking forward to being able to speak to Germans without a translator.  It's kind of a pain when you can't talk to anyone at the bar.

On Friday I decided it was pretty important that I get a bike so I can ride around town and figure out where things are.  I went to the closest bike shop and picked up a secondhand mountain bike for 100 €.  Good enough.  Saturday I threw on my pack and took the bike out for a spin.  First stop was getting a haircut at a salon that a friend from work goes to.  This was going to be tricky.  How am I supposed to tell them what I want?  Easy, a picture!  Lucky for me there was someone there that spoke good English.  So I explained to her what I was looking for with the help of the pictures I brought.  She then relayed the requests to the hairstylists and we were good to go.  Before I sat down they asked me if I would like a coffee.  Yes please!  That's so cool that they ask you that here.  It made me feel pretty relaxed.  It also helped that the hairstylist was good looking.  She took her time with the cut and did an awesome job.

Happy with my new cut I decide to go and explore the town a bit.  Riding down the street the first thing that catches my eye is a giant sign with a skier doing a backflip with his skis crossed.  I take a closer look at the store and notice Deuter backpacking packs on display in the window.  I hit the brakes, pull over and lock up my bike.  When I walk in I'm immediately drawn over to the packs.  Most of them are Deuter, a German brand that I'm familiar with from outdoor gear shows, gear shops and outdoor film festivals.  Sweet packs.  On my left I see a small rack with spools of rope, cord and webbing.  A little higher and I find the Edelrid slings and Mammut draws and lockers.  Not a very big selection, but still comforting to know that it's here.  I continue to walk around the store and take inventory.  The store is an odd combination of an EMS and Dick's Sporting goods.  There's a good selection of outdoor clothing and hiking shoes/boots with a small section of sleeping bags and tents.  There's a fair selection of running shoes which I also like.  Yeah I stopped long enough to see which models they carry.  Moving on I see they carry an assortment other sports equipment, most dominant is the fußball(soccer) equipment.  Soccer is so much bigger here than it is in the states.  It probably won't be long before I need to buy a pair of cleats for pick-up soccer games.

Deuter packs

I decided to part with my bike in exchange for walking and really taking my time to get to know the town.  Continuing my stroll I find dozens of little coffee shops with a wine shop scattered in here and there.  I also noticed a bunch of places selling fresh fruit.  Not having much room in my pack, I decided to make a fruit run the next time I come back.

Next I stumble across a book store.  Another weakness.  Not expecting to really find much, I walk in.  I don't recognize any of the books or authors at first.  As I proceed to browse the shop I notice German versions of books that I'm familiar with, most notably is the Harry Potter series.  I've read the first four books in the series, but being as that the copies here are in German I keep walking.  Eventually I get to a section that reads English.  I'm fucked.  I know I'm walking out of here with a book.  I just finished an awesome book called "A Million Little Pieces" and I'm dying for another adventure.  I won't get my books until all my stuff is released from customs, so I'm in need of a book.  I recognize a few of the titles, and after picking up some of the others I determine that they're not worth buying.  Back to the ones I know.  I read the back cover of a half dozen books and none of them thrill me.  I'm left with one alternative.  The Twilight Series.  I was kind of hoping to find something else when I saw these books here.  No such luck.  I delved into another vampire series by Laurel K. Hamilton well before the Twilight books came about and I really enjoyed them.  I intend to finish the series actually.  Being as that this other vampire series was entertaining I figured I'd give this one a try and ignore any stigma that may come about from reading a "love story."  There and vampires and werewolves, it's gotta be good!  Look at Underworld.  Those movies were awesome!  So I bought it.  I'm about 30 pages in so far; no real opinion yet but I'll be sure to comment on it later.

At the end of my tour I stop at a sandwich shop that I'm familiar with.  A friend from work took me here for lunch the day before.  Liking what I had, I came back.  They roast turkey on a vertical rotisserie device and then scrap off shavings to make a sandwich.  It kinda looks like the chopped up meat you would see in a cheesesteak except that it's turkey.  It's sooo goood!  They serve it on a kaiser roll that they flattened and grilled in a sandwich press; the kind they use for panini sandwiches.  They cut the roll about 3/4 of the way through and then stuff it with turkey the way you would a pita.  Anyway, they dress it up with a mayonnaise-like sauce, lettuce, onion, tomato and sprinkle a paprika seasoning on it to make it spicy.  Gooood stuff.  It's pretty cheap too.  3 €.  One of those and a drink is all you need.

Throughout the day I noticed tons of bike racks.  There's one outside every other store almost.  So many people bike to get around here, I love it.  I've even seen a bunch of old people riding around.  Some of these folks have to be in their 70's!  Crazy!  So cool though.  I hope I'm biking around town at that age.

One of many bike racks in town

Now thats a bike rack!  Look at all those spaces!

My European loot left over from the day

I got home and relaxed for a bit before making dinner and watching the Bayern München game.  They got shut out by Inter Milan.  Boo!


I'm beginning to feel the effects of this six hour time difference to the east coast.  It's made it really difficult to chat with friends.  When I hop online after work everyone at home is still in the middle of the work day.  When they get home from work, I'm in bed.  That makes real-time conversation an inconvenience or an interruption for someone no matter what time it is.  I've been getting by mostly on facebook comments and wall posts.  Emails are certainly better when I have a lot to say but I find myself waiting longer for a response since most would prefer to send emails from their computer instead of the short messages that are so easy to send from a phone.  I'm trying to be as patient and positive as I can, but this six hour time difference makes for some solemn hours in my apartment.