Considerate: careful not to cause inconvenience or hurt to others.(1)
I'm continually appalled by the inconsiderate nature of people as they moved through the world.
On the sidewalk: I see scooters parked not just on the sidewalk but completely across the sidewalk as if no one else in the world is every going to use the sidewalk. Often I find them laid across the bike lanes. I think that is not just inconsideration, but deliberate.
On the bus: I often see men find the 3 seat benches to sit on, which, admittedly are more comfortable, but instead of "man spreading" on either end of the 3 seat benches allowing the possibility for at least one other person to use the space, he will sit directly in the middle, rendering all three seats occupied. For all those women who just nodded in recognition of this situation, pause for a moment and consider the woman on the bus who finds that same set of benches, also sits in the middle and set's her bags on both side of her equally guilty of "woman spreading". Your sex is not any more innocent or considerate in this case.
In public coffee shops and restaurants that have a "seat-yourself" option: I constantly see single customers come in and sit by themselves at a table made for five or six people. I saw today someone come in and begin to sit at a table for four even though there were many tables make for two, and I began to think ... how inconsiderate. To my relief, the individual looked around and found a table for two; I was relieved. As he began to settle himself in, I realize that he was just using the table for two to stage his bag then he sat astraddle that table and the table for four that was next to it. So, to my disappointment, he was actually even more inconsiderate than I originally thought.
I'm reading a book called, "Nudge" by Cass Sunstein and Richard Thaler (excellent book), and I realize that perhaps the cafe could find a different arrangement of the seats to encourage people to pick a spot that maximizes the comfort and needs of everyone. The bus system does it's best to encourage folks to at least leave the seats near the front of the bus for those that need them most, and some of the scooter companies at least force the riders to at least consider how they are leaving the scooter parked, but perhaps they could take a clue from "Nudge" and give more immediate feedback.
Sunday, September 29, 2019
Monday, March 18, 2013
Broken Record: Broken Spirit
I've decided to start chronicling my training for the BP MS 150 2013.
Here's a first post to catch everyone up to where I am.
I started this season with the plan of beginning with a 50 mile ride being ready to meet a midway point of doing 85 miles by the end of March. As a goal I had decided to get ready for the LBJ 100 which has an 85 mile route. That was a little over a month ago and to paraphrase Helmuth von Moltke, no battle plan survives contact with the enemy.
My first ride was ended with a flat tire on the cold, wet, windy side of Parmer lane where I and my riding buddy had to shield ourselves from the wind behind a gravel pile awaiting a friend to retrieve us.
From there I could only improve and I did adding a few miles at a time and mainly just battling the wind, my riding buddy and were able to do 48 miles the next ride. I rode again on my own and this time with the wind in my face I decided to turn around at the 26 mile mark for a total of 52 miles. While that was an improvement, my goal on that ride had been to make it up to Florence which would have been a 66 mile round trip.
This last weekend (March 16), what I was only battling was my own stupidity. That day I procrastinated leaving the house until well past any reasonable hour and decided to invite my friend along which allowed me to procrastinate even longer. When I finally did get on the bike it was already 11:30 on what would turn out to be the hottest day of the year thus far. Besides starting late, I hadn't eaten breakfast. I'm not a big breakfast person anyway, so I thought, "How much is that really going to help?". I took off anyway, the day was warm and pleasant and the westerly breeze was cool on my back.
I was about a mile or so from the car when I realized that I hadn't remembered to my water bottle fully, and thought, "gosh... I'm already getting such a late start and with three quarters of a bottle of water it's just not worth it to ride back and fill it up."
Things seemed fine, I was doing great and even having to stop and change a flat tire didn't dampen my spirits too much. I knew I was getting a boost from the wind behind me pushing me along and I decided that I was going push past my 52 mile limit and commit to a full 60 mile ride.
I got to my normal turn around point and with only a slight hesitation I zoomed forth into uncharted territory. When I did reach my new halfway point, 30 miles I was pretty pleased with myself. I stopped for just a moment to ponder my accomplishment, knowing that I was committed. When I did turn around, that very moment that I turned around, I realized the depths of my self-deception. Looking back on the strip of asphalt that stretched before me and feeling the wind in my face that had just been my kindest friend, I knew that she would be my most bitter enemy.
Battling my way back against the wind, I started thinking of my water bottle. My mouth was getting a little dry and I began to recall scenes from the movie 127 hours. I thought about the full bottle of water back in the car. I thought of the half dozen power bars that I had left in my camel back. I thought of the bowl of oatmeal that I hadn't made for breakfast.
Surely, I would reach a point where the wind would at least be blowing across my path. I struggled against the spiteful wind at some point literally standing still when I quit peddling. Rationing my water at sips at a time knowing there were no houses, looking longingly at the muddy rivers and creeks I was passing, with 15 miles to go, I came upon a house. The brass of the faucet gleamed as if it were itself glowing. It was an oasis in the desert.
I finally made it back to the car and collapsed for a while before I even felt like driving.
So, on a happy note ... I rode 60 miles!
Here's a first post to catch everyone up to where I am.
I started this season with the plan of beginning with a 50 mile ride being ready to meet a midway point of doing 85 miles by the end of March. As a goal I had decided to get ready for the LBJ 100 which has an 85 mile route. That was a little over a month ago and to paraphrase Helmuth von Moltke, no battle plan survives contact with the enemy.
My first ride was ended with a flat tire on the cold, wet, windy side of Parmer lane where I and my riding buddy had to shield ourselves from the wind behind a gravel pile awaiting a friend to retrieve us.
From there I could only improve and I did adding a few miles at a time and mainly just battling the wind, my riding buddy and were able to do 48 miles the next ride. I rode again on my own and this time with the wind in my face I decided to turn around at the 26 mile mark for a total of 52 miles. While that was an improvement, my goal on that ride had been to make it up to Florence which would have been a 66 mile round trip.
This last weekend (March 16), what I was only battling was my own stupidity. That day I procrastinated leaving the house until well past any reasonable hour and decided to invite my friend along which allowed me to procrastinate even longer. When I finally did get on the bike it was already 11:30 on what would turn out to be the hottest day of the year thus far. Besides starting late, I hadn't eaten breakfast. I'm not a big breakfast person anyway, so I thought, "How much is that really going to help?". I took off anyway, the day was warm and pleasant and the westerly breeze was cool on my back.
I was about a mile or so from the car when I realized that I hadn't remembered to my water bottle fully, and thought, "gosh... I'm already getting such a late start and with three quarters of a bottle of water it's just not worth it to ride back and fill it up."
Things seemed fine, I was doing great and even having to stop and change a flat tire didn't dampen my spirits too much. I knew I was getting a boost from the wind behind me pushing me along and I decided that I was going push past my 52 mile limit and commit to a full 60 mile ride.
I got to my normal turn around point and with only a slight hesitation I zoomed forth into uncharted territory. When I did reach my new halfway point, 30 miles I was pretty pleased with myself. I stopped for just a moment to ponder my accomplishment, knowing that I was committed. When I did turn around, that very moment that I turned around, I realized the depths of my self-deception. Looking back on the strip of asphalt that stretched before me and feeling the wind in my face that had just been my kindest friend, I knew that she would be my most bitter enemy.
Battling my way back against the wind, I started thinking of my water bottle. My mouth was getting a little dry and I began to recall scenes from the movie 127 hours. I thought about the full bottle of water back in the car. I thought of the half dozen power bars that I had left in my camel back. I thought of the bowl of oatmeal that I hadn't made for breakfast.
Surely, I would reach a point where the wind would at least be blowing across my path. I struggled against the spiteful wind at some point literally standing still when I quit peddling. Rationing my water at sips at a time knowing there were no houses, looking longingly at the muddy rivers and creeks I was passing, with 15 miles to go, I came upon a house. The brass of the faucet gleamed as if it were itself glowing. It was an oasis in the desert.
I finally made it back to the car and collapsed for a while before I even felt like driving.
So, on a happy note ... I rode 60 miles!
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