A day off

So I’m on my spring break this week. And just like pretty much every spring break I’ve ever had I’m working. Spring break always seemed like a cool idea, but I never had time or money to really get out and do anything. Most years I had research to do, even in my last year of undergrad. The year prior to that was the 1998 ice storm in Montreal, my school decided that the loss of a week of classes at the beginning of the semester would be compensated by having no break that year. And some people wonder why I never really have any pride in the institutions I’ve studied at.

Though now that I’m a faculty member I decided that I needed a bit of a break, so I took Monday off, giving me a nice three day weekend. And for a change it actually was a weekend, I didn’t work on lectures, grants or grading like I normally do. I just sat back and relaxed and even manage to get in a couple of bike rides, after more than a month of not riding (I’m still not sure how that happened).

I recently picked up an iPod shuffle, with the new pricing on them I couldn’t help myself. After all I had been hoarding Deirdre’s iPod mini for ages now. I knew the thing was small but I was shocked at just how light the thing is, I think my earbuds actually weight more than the shuffle. So on the ride I took Monday I decided that I would take it along with me; I was riding down the PCH and anything to silence the car noise is appreciated. Thankfully the ride is a safe one with a large bike path/shoulder so I wasn’t at risk not having my hearing while riding (something I find I need in heavy city traffic riding). The beauty of the shuffle is that I could just clip the unit to my sleeve and run the earbuds under the jersey to my collar. I did learn however that my heart sounds like a cricket. Well, it does when the shuffle is turned on (playing or not) and the cord passes over the heartrate monitor I wear riding. The radio frequency transmission sends chirps through the earbuds, but only if the wire is right on top of the transmitter, so that was easy to avoid.

Harder to avoid are the habits of a northern cyclist. Riding in Edmonton I could be out for four or five hours in June and barely get a tan. I learned very quickly that that wouldn’t be the case here. Riding only for about two and a half hours got me some nice lobster-like skin coloration. You have to love southern California, when I can get a bikers tan in March.