Welcome to Hollywood

Internal monologue of a man looking like the million bucks he'll never see-

"I'm strolling down Beverly, Dre beats pumpin' SHM. Ed Hardy hat pulled low over my bangs. Sweat pants tucked into my Uniqlo boots, damn it feels good to be a gansta.

I'm hungry, but miles away from the nearest juice bar. It's February so I'm shit out of luck. I must admit, this cleanse has done amazing things for my abs. Is that Lohan? Why is she digging through that trash can? False alarm.

Coffeee, coffeee, coffeeee! Boom and there is a spot on the patio available, things are rollin'! Skinny vanilla latte is abouts to gets drunk. My schedule just cleared up for the afternoon.

I am literally following the exact career path of Orlando Bloom at this point in his career. I am a lot more versatile though. I wonder if he goes to Hemmingway's too?

I'm pretty sure I nailed my most recent audition. No extra has ever prepared so thoroughly for a role. The City of Angel's is my playground and I am the king of the jungle gym.

Look at this idiot in the Mellow Johnny's shirt..."

This is the blogging equivalent of the walk of shame.

I haven't been writing much. Sure I've got excuses, a new promotion, lots of riding, and fun activties with friends and family, but in reality I've just been shirking my personal duties.

 I've got a lot to write about and strong opinions to share, but it's hard to set the time. Perhaps if I set aside some time during my lunch break, I can write a short post every day. In addition, if I decide on some priority subjects that can act as self-checkups, I can be more disciplined in my posts.

I once bought Charleton Heston's Biography. It was a huge hardcover book with over 1,000 pages. It chronicled his time making movies in the 1970's. The project was an accumulation of his diaries and journal entries. It was the most terrible thing I have ever read. Maybe I didn't get far enough, but after the 3rd entry that began with "Had a successful bowel movement", I knew I had better things to do with my team.

I don't plan on overloading my blog with dribbling gobbledygook, but I feel committing to the habit of writing will benefit me in the long run. So bear with me all four of you who are reading this...

How much coffee have you drank today?
1 cup of drip + 1 Vanilla Latte.

When was the last time you exercised?
I did a run on 4.5 mile run on Saturday at about 7:30 pace. On Monday, I went to the gym and did chest and biceps.

What was the best thing you have eaten in the past week?
I absolutely loved the kale, garbonzo bean, and bacon salad that my mom made. I also loved the feedzone cookbook's oatmeal recipe that I made. It contained oats, brown sugar, maple syrup, raisens, and bananas. Lastly, I loved the prime rib french dip sandwich from Bandera!

What do you wish you could do this week?
U'm extremely excited to help Anna settle into her LA apartment and begin exploring LA. I'd like to move forward with some triathlon training. I am really excited to pound the dirt on the mountain bike and prep for the 50 mile Rwanda ride.

And for those of you wondering, yes I did have a successful bowel movement today.

Como Street!

What is so special about Como Street? Is it the lore of legendary cyclists who have rubbed elbows with the local peloton ? Perhaps for its place in the historical significance of a newly born Orange County? Is it the romanticism of a churning peloton in the morning fog? Maybe the inner calm and comfort felt when surrounded by 100 other like-minded individuals? Or could it be just a hard damn ride? Whatever the reason, hundreds show up at 8:00 in Tustin Market Place to test themselves on the Como Street loop.


Much like the fog in which it takes place, a quiet nervousness floats amongst the crowd as they pump tires, lube chains, and tighten screws. As the caffeine flows and social lubrication works its charm, stories of doping, tales of excruciating training, and comparisons of power figures are overheard. Riders make their way onto Jamboree in a slow rolling procession of colorful lycra. By the time the group reaches Irvine Boulevard, riders have ranked themselves according to skill and the pace quickly hastens.


From the perspective of a novice, the ride can be somewhat nerve racking. You're constantly rotating amongst the peloton to avoid the many sketchy cyclists new to pack riding. There are riders who brake too frequently, can't ride in a straight line, can't maintain a consistent pace, or those who have annoying jerseys. A sense of security is tough to catch and maintain, as is your breath as flat lands turn into rolling hills. After numerous adjustments you realize that in an attempt to gain a sense of security, you have taken on all of the traits of a sketchy cyclist, most notably in your jersey selection.


As the group turns left onto El Toro, the pack has already thinned considerably. At this point, simple glances, street limit signs, and yellow lights have the potential to invoke a 30 second sprint that causes a ripple effect throughout the group. As the road turns upwards, the strong emerge and the suffering begins. Anyone can maintain 25 mph in a group of 100 riders, but very few can go 17 mph up hill, where your mind becomes your only competitor.

Cycling uphill is a curious pleasure. You experience an intense suffering that melts away all other concerns. Any activity that you enjoy may put you in the zone, bring happiness, and melt away your worries. Still, there is something so fundamentally beautiful in climbing up a hill, reaching the summit and receiving a rush of endorphins that put a smile on your face every time

Finally, the group of lycra clad obsessives cross paths with a group of leather clad obsessives at Cook's Corner. Suburbia is put on temporary hiatus as the route winds through the lush canyon back country, past farm houses and lakes that are reminiscent of Orange County's better days.

I can't say that I attack the suffering every time. On a bike, one only needs to look courageous on the outside. Sometimes I count to 50, other times I tell myself positive thoughts, sometimes I think of loved ones, and other times I listen to terrible raggeaton music. Eventually, I reach the top and am damn glad I tried.

The miles tick off as my mind undulates like the road under my tires. Eventually, we emerge from the canyon back into the land of tract housing and shopping centers. Just like in Disneyland's Splash Mountain, upon reaching Jamboree the mood is instantly joyous and congratulatory. The pace slows to a warm-down and riders that were moments ago stoic and unresponsive become chatterboxes filled with excitement.


I'll keep showing up to Como Street. Sure, some of the crowd is intense, runs red lights, and has seemingly lost sight of the simple joys of riding a bike. But in the end, it's a hard damn ride and that's what keeps me coming back.

Baby's First Haircut!

No, I have not adopted a 6 month old. But not unlike a 6 month old, I had my first professional haircut.

Since birth, I have been getting my hair cut from one wonderful barber. His name is Tim Parsel. Although he had his moments of suspect behavior. Like that time he put on the wrong guide and left me with a patchy 1/4 inch of hair. Or the numerous times where he feverishly watched a sporting event and my ear happened to get in the way. Overall, the benefits far outweighed the minor drawbacks. I have gained a lifetime of wisdom, sports analysis, and personal advice by sitting in the living room with my shirt off. I may come back for a trim or two, but I have found a new paradise.

I was working an OCTA event (seems as though many good things come from these events) and I discovered the barber shop in a newly revitalized area of Downtown Anaheim. All you beard growing vegans out there who shop at the Lab and the Camp will be familiar with this new area, as it is owned by the same person. This place is awesomely decked out with cool food places like 180 degrees (vegan groceries), Junk food (vegan), Gypsy Den (Coffee/bikes/beards) and Umami Burger (foodie).

The barber shop is sandwiched between an upscale footwear store and a haberdashery-ish, bow-tie selling, paradise of awesomeness. Both stores are connected to the shop and you get a 15% discount on merchandise after your hair cut. The place is called BarBeer and is a throwback to barbershops of old. For those of you who can grow facial hair, unlike me, you can enjoy a straight razor shave and the sweet sounds of music from the '50's.

The place offered exceptional service and my barber Kevin was a skilled craftsman and conversationalist. The experience was so wonderful, that I now feel the need to speak like I'm in the 1950's. Lastly and most importantly, the place has a bar in the back and will soon be serving up some delicious beers!

I will be recommending this place to everyone I know and plan on returning soon. Sorry dad, while I'm gainfully employed, you're temporarily fired.

An Exercise in Developing a Habit

Goal: To Write at least 4 blog posts per week until Christmas

I've been thinking about the process of developing habits. Why do I set my alarm at 6:00 am to run 4 miles, but never make it out the door? Why is my room in a state of perpetual messiness? Why do I overeat so much?

For what it's worth, I am a master of uncertainty and continual self questioning. I'm not sure what I'd like to accomplish in my career, or even what my career should be. I don't know whether one should be feared or loved. I'm not sure what I should have for dinner tonight. I am fairly certain, however, that writing will be an essential part of whatever career I choose. As a result, I have made it my goal to strengthen my creative writing skills and write more consistently. Alas, I will write a blog entry at least 4 times a week until Christmas in the hopes that a habit will develop.

I really like the Brian Tracy article on developing new habits (linked below). My favorite point is this aspect:

Sixth, resolve to persist in the new behavior until it is so automatic and easy that you actually feel uncomfortable when you do not do what you have decided to do.

 I currently feel quite uncomfortable when I don't exercise. I need productivity, soreness, and endorphins to feel content at the end of the day. Hopfeully I will develop this level of commitment to writing.I hope that through this process I will learn the skills to developing productive habits in other facets of my life.

Quality article on habit forming: http://www.briantracy.com/blog/personal-success/seven-steps-to-developing-a-new-habit/

CF Cycle For Life

"For each illness that doctors cure with medicine, they provoke ten in healthy people by inoculating them with the virus that is a thousand times more powerful than any microbe: the idea that one is ill."

Marcel Proust

I never feel more ill than when I'm at my quarterly doctors appointment. Like patient zero of the zombie apocolypse, I am immediately given gloves and a facemask to wear while I traverse the halls. I am subjected to a barrage of tests of which I already know the results. The definition of insanity.

For this same reason I loathed attending Cystic Fibrosis events. I realize it's an odd way of thinking, but they were a cosntant reminder that I was sick and that a shortened life expectancy loomed overhead. Fortunately, with the help of my girlfriend Anna, support from family and friends, and the invention of a bicycle, I found my way into Cycle for Life. My experience with the event completely evaporated my ill concieved fears.

I met Michael White and Cole Jacobson while working the booth of a bicycling event. Like any cliche of three guys meeting at a bicycle event, we became good friends! Their passion for curing CF convinced me to sign up in a matter of minutes. Over a number of lunches, they answered all of my CF related questions and taught me a great deal about the organization.

As I began fundraising, I was in awe at how many people jumped in to support me. I received donations from people I had never met. All this support made it very easy to log training miles and prepare for my 70 mile journey. I also attended training rides organized by the CF chapter. These rides pumped me up for the event and introduced me to a number of passionate individuals. To my suprise, my good friend Mike Ciaccio came aboard and pledged to ride with me.

Eventually it was race day! Although the race technically began at 8:00 am, my race began at 6:00 am due to my terrible planning skills. We were running late, I got lost finding the venue, and I forgot a number of essential items. After that morning, the race was a breeze.

Our first rest stop was a short 12 miles into the ride at BJ's. BJ's is an amazing sponsor for the CF community. If you're not eating a Pizookie while reading this, you're doing something wrong. I will try not to bore my vast readership (all three of you) with details of the ride, but one key feature throughout the day was the beauty of the course.

Our second rest stop was a Rock N' Road Cyclery in Mission Viejo. We visited this shop twice during the day and they had a ton of awesome volunteers and helpful staff. This rest stop was a bit more eventful. While I was just warming up at this point, Mike looked as if he just finished an Ironman. He kept saying, "My god Wes, this isn't the Tour de France". In my defense, I felt that we were on pace to finish in 2013. Eventually I convinced him to turn around and just do the 35 mile ride. I believed the rest of the journey would be a solo one.

Within five minutes I had joined up with a group of red jersey wearing cyclists called the Ohana riders (Ohana means family in Hawaiian). Now I've heard Hawaiian people are friendly, but this group was made up of some of the friendliness, most welcoming people I've ever met. We rode together for hours and I consider meeting up with them one of the real treats of the day.

Onward and upwards we went, the mileage surpassed only by the smileage. I ate over 2,000 calories on the ride. If I wasn't chatting with the Ohana Riders, my mouth was stuffed with peanut butter and jellys, handfulls of pretzels, electrolyte drinks, gu's, and cliff bars. Each rest stop was a Nascar pit stop. I filled up on water, frantically read nutrition labels and guessed how many enzymes I needed to take.

The route ended with roughly 1,000 feet of elevation gain over 4 miles through Santiago Canyon. I felt great as I approached the entrance to the canyon and decided to push myself to the limit.

I had plenty of time during the ride to reflect on all my doctors appointments, blood tests, and breathing medicines. Instead of the usual disdain, all I felt was thankfullness. I was thankful for the support of my donors, the awesomeness of the event, and the love of family and friends. I wasn't attending an event that made me feel sick or weak. I was being challenged and doing something that healthy people wouldn't attempt. Pouring sweat and with a big smile on my face, I had never felt so healthy in my life.  

My CF Story

It only took 23 years, but I have just passed the denial stage of my Cystic Fibrosis battle. I’m only kidding, but I wasn’t too into the education, blog reading, 5k walking side of my CF for a long time. I stuck to the belief that out of sight was out of mind. The less I did my breathing, the less I had to be sick with CF. That being said, I know I need to change my habits.  However, as you are well aware, parents, doctors and PFT results don’t always provide enough motivation.

That’s why I am writing a blog. I am not writing to brag about my great health, complain about my stomach aches or ask the world to feel sorry for me. I’m simply looking to involve myself more heavily in the social networking, educational, doing my breathing treatments side of CF. I hope that involving myself in the CF community will force me to carry the burden of accountability.

My first blog experience was with Ronnie Sharpe’s blog and boy was it eye opening! I felt like I was reading the diary I never had the courage to write. I opened a vast portal of information, shared experiences and unconventional remedies that I never knew existed. He understands the shared purpose of promoting healthy CF’ers, which leads him to openly sharing his experiences in an amazing way. So before I move any farther, thanks Ronnie and Mandi and of course, congratulations on your baby!

I was diagnosed with CF at birth and had a number of health issues. I had meconium ileius, which although I don’t completely understand, I know it’s disgusting.   I had a number of surgeries and spent the first 7 weeks in a drug infused state. 15 years and a million enzymes later and I’m your typical annoying teenager. I play tons of sports and tell everyone that my scar was the result of a shark bite.

Near the end of high school, I had my first of 10+ (lost track) bowel obstructions. They involve lots of pain killers, a tube down your nose and in my case, lots of complaining. Fortunately, I have an amazing network of family and friends, including a mother who has spent every night in the hospital next to me and a supportive girlfriend who encourages me to write, do my treatments and run half marathons.

Overall, I have calculated my total days in the hospital to be just under a half year of my life. Although hospital stays are miserable, the world is brighter when you emerge; Food tastes better, sports are more fun and your experiences force you to take time to appreciate the little things.

After two bowel obstructions in a row, I had “exploratory surgery”. This unorthodox procedure is comparable to that time you were exploring around your fridge for something that smelled bad. Seven hours later and I was as good as new. To my understanding, my intestines looked like dried up spaghetti and had to be surgically untangled. Hungry yet? Another two weeks down the drain, but I learned a lot about myself and came away with a new appreciation for loved ones. Therein lies the theme of CF life, although there may be some suffering, if you can overcome it, you become that much stronger.

Around the time of this onslaught of hospital visits, I got my nebulizer and a host of other medicines. I’ve played sports my whole life and have had very little lung trouble. Although my PFTs aren’t great, my lungs have not held me back in any aspect of life! I understand that if I’m not diligent from this point forward, I will have a hefty price to pay.

That brings me to my current spot in life. I finished college and got a job in the marketing world at a government agency. I do marketing for bicycle programs. This fortunate turn of events keeps me in shape, as it evolved into my most recent hobby of cycling. I want to use this blog to talk about the value of exercise, my ongoing experiences with CF and to ask for help and guidance along the way.