Plan B

Yesterday's return trip back from IC to NO was very long and tiresome. Our flight out of Moline, IL was in the late afternoon, but since we had to check out of the hotel for 1:00 and then make the hour's drive from IC to Moline, we ended up lounging around the Quad Cities airport for a bit over two hours. On the plus side, they have free wireless there. On the minus side, there's not much else. So I sat alone down at the end of the concourse, where there was an outlet to charge up the laptop's battery, catching up on work and staring out on a very quiet runway.

Our next stop was Atlanta where we had long layover, so we had a distinctly uninspiring dinner at the airport's Chili's restaurant, and then spend the next hour and a half watching the SuperBowl at Gate E-16 with a bunch of other weary travellers. At around the 2-minute warning, the person at the Delta desk walked over and asked if anyone needed tissues! The flight from ATL to NO was a typical late-night flight. The plane was full and everyone on it looked tired and grouchy. I was no exception. I was in the middle seat (we had gotten the last two seats available on that flight), and the older woman to my right looked a little eccentric. To my left was a college student adrift in iPOD land. The first thing I noticed about the woman to my right was her black and white calfskin boots. You know; the kind with the hair still on them. Soon she pulled out an Apple laptop (you knew it would have to be a Mac, right? The footwear was the clue.) and started working on some long document as if she was a writer. Eventually she shut down the computer and I waited for the inevitible. Sure enough, she looked over and asked where I was from. She was surprised that I was a "native." They always are. She told me that she had figured I was from the northeast by the way I was dressed. I wasn't sure if I should take that as a compliment or not, but anyway at least there was someone to talk to since The Wife was sandwiched between two huge people in the row ahead. As it turned out, this woman had lived in New Orleans for the past 20 years, and her husband was the author of "Breach of Faith." They have a small house in the French Quarter that they are trying to sell. So then the Katrina conversation started. They are all pretty similar. Where did you evacuate to after the storm? How was your house? What do you think about the Mayor? The Congressman? The Governor? The Corps of Engineers? Will the city recover? What about healthcare? What about the real estate market? I have to admit, it's getting tiresome. I think I may finally be coming down with "Katrina Fatigue." I was tired and uncomfortable, and I'm sure I wasn't very articulate, so I hope she forgets my name! Arrived home just after midnight. Did you notice that I didn't get to exercise? Me too.

It was really hard to get out the door this morning, which was no surprise of course, but I did it anyway. The temperature was in the low 40s, and I intentionally overdressed a bit on the assumption that I'd be going a little easier than usual. The last three or four weeks have been disasterous for what passes as my training program, or routine, or whatever it is, and the bottom line is that it will be weeks before I can get back to some reasonable level of fitness -- assuming of course that there aren't too many more interruptions. I think it's about time for Plan B. I am going to have to force myself through some evening workouts a few days a week if I am to have any hope at all of getting back to where I want to be. I guess it's time to set the track bike up on the old wind trainer.

The older I get, the more fragile my training program becomes. I'm sure that's why the only other person up on the levee at 6:40 this morning was Joe. As is typical for a Monday morning, he latched onto my wheel and stayed there the whole way. Having been off the bike so long, I was having a little trouble gauging my own effort level against the strong wind today. We passed Howard who was riding the opposite direction, but otherwise the levee was deserted today, and despite my moderate pace that ranged from 19 to 23 mph, I got home feeling sufficiently tired.

Some photos by a gastroenterologist who went to school in New Orleans and attended the Krewe de Vieux parade over the weekend are here. Consider youself warned. This Krewe always comes up with some great stuff. The theme this year was "Habitat for Insanity." You really have to keep a sense of humor about around here, you know. The themes for the various "floats" below should give you an idea:

CRUDE – CRUDE Flew into the Cuckoo’s Nest
SEEDS – Follow the Yellow Brick Road Home
CRAPS – HOME, HOME AND DERANGED
PAN – Edwards, Now More than Ever
SPERMES – SPERMES Gets Its Head Examined
INANE – Mystic INANE Asylum
COMATOSE – Habitat for Hispanics
MONDU – Chockfull of Nuts
LEWD – Post Traumatic Sex Disorder
MISHIGAS – Rebuilds the Tower of Babel
KSAL – Load to Recovery – A Cuming Event
DRIPS – D & D Gets Hammered and Nailed
UNDERWEAR - Alice in Underland
TOKIN - High Anxiety
MAMA ROUX – The Beauticians’ Village
BOURBON – Always Time for Levee-Tea