Luis Giner's Blog

My Ego and I

2006-09-21T09:56:00.005-06:00

In early 2004, I decided to participate in the Mesquite Rodeo Bike Ride. It was the first time I’d ever ridden in an organized bicycle rally but I was up to the challenge. I signed up for the 62 mile route, double the distance I had ever ridden. It was during that ride that something interesting happened to me that has changed the way I think about things.

The ride started at 08:00 a.m. and it was getting close to 01:00 p.m. and I was tired. I wasn’t cramping up or anything but I was physically and mentally exhausted. It wasn’t a particularly hot day but it was humid since it had rained earlier that morning. As my riding partner and I neared the finish line, I saw a mountainous hill towards the end. He’s an experienced rider, so he stood up on his bike and sprinted to the finish line. Even before reaching the hill I started thinking to myself, you’re not going to make it. As a hill approached and I felt gravity pushing down on me, my thighs began to tighten and my heart started pounding. This is it, I told myself.

As my momentum faded and the hill got steeper my lungs started to burn. I started gasping for air and my thighs started to feel like they were on fire. I tried standing up and sprinting to the top but my legs immediately gave out. I was gasping so hard that I was drooling on my bike and my heart was beating so hard I could feel it pounding my chest. I’m not going to make it, I’m not going to make it, I kept saying to myself as my body quickly started agreeing with it.

I was less than half way up when I thought, screw it. I’m just going walk the rest of the way up. I tried but I can’t finish. I should be proud that I was almost able to finish. You doubled your riding distance, be proud of that. All these thoughts were racing through my mind while my legs grew weaker and weaker with every revolution. As I reached the half way point, I was done. I looked for a place to pull over to stop when I noticed another rider coming up behind me. I was gasping and moaning in pain as the rider passed me. I guess he noticed me struggling to finish so he slowed down just enough for him to look over at me and say, “You can make it.”, and turned his head and sprinted towards the top.

It was at the very moment that I stepped outside of my ego and felt my “real” self take over, it was amazing. I wasn’t done, I was just telling myself I was done. I simply focused on the stop sign at the top of the hill and pedaled. No moaning or groaning, just pedaled. I reached the finish line with a smile. I felt a rush of emotions as I began realizing what I had accomplished. More importantly, I realized that my ego and the “real” me are two separate things. Had it not been for the other rider's comment, I never would have made that connection. I make that same connection every time my ride or life starts getting me down.

Kindness is Contagious

2006-07-11T10:37:00.005-06:00

In 1997, I began studying Buddhism through the teachings of His Holiness, The Dalai Lama. Through his teaching I was transformed into a more peaceful, connected spiritual being. I don’t consider myself a Buddhist, but I do agree with most of the Buddhist principles and apply many of them to my everyday life. One of them is my treatment of non-human life. I’m ashamed to say that I used to hunt for sport in my late teens and early twenties. Had I believed then what I believe now, I would never have put an animal in my gun’s sights. Sadly, I can’t bring back the animals I needlessly killed and their death at my hands continues to be a stone in my heart. I vowed never to kill another animal for sport and to promote kindness and compassion to all living creatures.

A few months ago, my bicycle riding buddy and I were on our normal weekend ride when we started discussing hunting. I’m not sure how the conversation got started, but I mentioned to him that I don’t believe animals were placed on this earth to entertain us. I mentioned to him that all living creatures suffer and to me, killing or harming another living creature for sport is just wrong. I used the example of an alien race coming to earth and settling on our planet. Unable to communicate with the inferior, two-legged indigenous creatures called humans, the aliens start hunting us for sport. The aliens don’t care that we have families and love each other, we’re just humans and therefore…fair game. I went on to mention that I don’t hold it against someone if they choose to hunt, it’s not just for me. It’s for this reason that I no longer attend rodeos or circuses. If I need to watch animals suffer just to entertain myself, then something in my life has gone terribly wrong.

A few weeks later during another ride, my riding buddy mentioned that he recalled my conversation from the previous ride and decided to help a baby bird that had fallen from its nest near his home. The bird was very young and couldn’t fly and would inevitably die due to its vulnerable state. He took this young bird and put it in a cage and employed his two young daughters to help feed and care for this helpless creature. For weeks they fed and cared for the bird and it soon became part of their family. As the bird aged and regained its strength, it was able to fly around the house to the delight of his two daughters. He knew at some point he would have to do the right thing and let their new pet go. When the time came he called upon a friend who ran a bird sanctuary and turn the bird over to him. His family was saddened to see their friend fly into its new home, but he knew that the life lessons this bird had taught his family would be something they could cherish forever.

This story brought a sense of calm to my soul. It reminded me that kindness is contagious and when one practices kindness and compassion, one’s world is a more peaceful place.

This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness. His Holiness, The Dalai Lama

The Night Luis Met Patty

2006-07-09T11:24:00.003-06:00

It was my last Saturday in El Paso, my hometown. I stayed for a month or so in El Paso to recover from a three month vacation in Japan and Thailand. I was moving to northern California the following week, and all my plans were set, move to California, find a job, find a place to live and start my new life. My friend Larry and I decided to hit our favorite Saturday night watering hole, Margarita’s, one last time. I had no idea that this cold February night would change my life forever. It was the night I would meet my wife.

Margarita's is not the kind of place I ever expected to meet my wife. It's a place where one finds people like me who are divorced, in their late thirties just out looking for a cold beer, great country and Tejano music. When one walks into Margarita’s one can smell the beer, sweat and tears folks have left over the years. The large wooden dance floor in the middle of the club also looks as if it has seen its fair share of two steppin' and bar fights. Larry and I usually stand at the bar on the right side of the club. This location not only gave us quick access to the bar, but we were able to see across the entire club including the dance floor. That evening, as I looked out toward the dance floor, I couldn't help but feel as if someone was staring at me. I scanned the room and that's when I first got a glimpse of her looking in my direction. I could only see her face, but her smile was captivating.

She was sitting at the bar that circles the dance floor looking back at me about twenty feet away. She had this radiant look to her, almost as if my higher power was using a highlighter to single her out from the rest of the ladies around her. As I looked back in her direction a few minutes later, I couldn't help but notice her again. I gave her my usual smirk with a slight hat tip and looked away. Larry leaned over and said, “Dude, that chick is checking you out big time.” I replied, “I know it, and she's cute too.” I remember thinking to myself; I wonder what's wrong with her? Like I mentioned earlier, Margarita’s is not the kind of place I would expect to find a wife.

As we looked at each other for a few minutes, a country song I like came on, and I knew then and there it was time to make my move. She was still twenty feet away so I whispered “Dance?” and pointed to the dance floor. She looked back at me and pointed to herself and asked, “Me?” I nodded my head and moved toward her, weaving through the layers of people like a mouse through a maze. As I approached her, I found her to be more beautiful than I had realized, and she was physically the type of woman that I'm attracted to. She was only about five feet tall, petite, with shoulder length light brown hair. Her skin tone was light, so light that I thought she may not be of Mexican descent. I took her by the hand and reached around her back, and we took our first spin around the dance floor. She was so tiny, thin and adorable that I wanted to pick her up and squeeze her. I looked down at her and remember thinking, Oh boy, she could trouble. We danced a few songs and walked back to her seat. I stood there next to her as we formally introduced ourselves. She appeared to be everything I was looking for in a woman, but there had to be something wrong with her, after all, this is Margarita’s.

I had to ask her the three questions that I ask any woman I'm interested in. Knowing that if she were to answer “Yes” to any of them, she would immediately be taken off the “Perfect” list she was already on. I asked her the first question, “Do you smoke?” “No Way!” she replied. I felt a chill go down my body. “Do you have cats?” “No.” Can this be really happening? Now it all came down to one final yet crucial question. “Are you a Washington Redskin fan?” “No.” My heart did somersaults! I’m a huge Dallas Cowboy fan and there’s no way a true Cowboy fan would date the enemy, a Redskins fan. This beautiful young lady seemed so perfect. It was too much for me to handle, I had to walk away. I told her I was going to check on my friend and that I'd be right back. Little did she know that what I really needed was time to clear my head. I'm leaving to California next week and I don't have time to fall in love. I have a plan and she’s not in my plan, I thought to myself as I walked back toward Larry.

I walked straight back to Larry and said, “Dude, I’m in big trouble.” He smiled at me and said, “I can tell. She's just your type and by the way she’s looking at you she’s probably feeling the same way.” Larry was a good friend and knew my quite well. We met each other in high school and remained friends even though I was away for ten years. He knew exactly the type of woman I look for, and he knew she fit the description perfectly. I turned around and just stood there looking at her from afar wondering if by some chance I was dreaming. After a few minutes, Larry looked at me and said, “Go back over there.” He was right. Why in the heck am I standing next to Larry when a beautiful lady is awaiting my return? I told Larry I'd be back but as it turned out, he never saw me again that night.

I walked back to where she was sitting and the rest of the evening we talked about our lives, and danced a few more songs. She was such a petite woman but had a strong voice. One would think that a woman so small in stature would have a soft voice, but she spoke confidently and full of energy. The real magic was she smiled and those perfectly aligned teeth would sparkle. It was like receiving a blast of positive karma every time she smiled. As the night progressed we discussed what it’s like to be in our mid-thirties, divorced with no children. How people assume there’s something wrong with us because we chose not to have children just yet. We talked about the plans we had when we were younger that never materialized. It was almost as if we’d walked the same path of life but just a few years apart.

It was getting late, but I had no idea how late until the bright lights came on, letting us know it was time to go. The bright lights were like an alarm clock going off during a wonderful dream. I didn't want the night to end, but it was for the best. I don't know how much more my heart could take. I helped her out of her chair, and we walked out of the club toward our vehicles. I invited her for a bite to eat, but she had driven her friends to the club, and they wanted to go home. I opened her car door and she turned around and gave me a hug. As I watched her drive away only one thought came to my mind, I guess California will have to wait.

We were married two months later in a small ceremony surrounded by family and friends. I guess love can find one anywhere, even Margarita’s.

Turn a few screws...

2006-06-21T08:58:00.002-06:00

I purchased my bike, a Specialized Roubaix Elite in Fort Worth, Texas in 2003, so when I need repairs or adjustments I have two options: pay to have it fixed or try fixing it myself. A few months ago I took my bike to get a tune up to Crazy Cat Cyclery. My bike came out like new and I couldn’t have been happier. As we all know, with time things loosen up and things get banged around, and after a month or so, it started to malfunction. Whenever I climbed hills or took off in too low (or high, I forget which is which) a gear, the chain would pop off my center ring onto my small granny ring. What to do? Take it in again for another tune up? I know all the shop guy is going to do is turn a screw here and there to get it to work. I don’t want to pay $40 bucks just for that, screw it…it can’t be that hard. How hard could it be to turn a few screws and tighten some cables? As I found out, it’s not hard at all to turn a few screws and tighten a few cables, doing it correctly is the hard part.

I got on the internet and found which screws to turn, and which cables to tighten on the derailleur and off I went my Father’s Day ride. I had no problems what so ever, except I noticed my chain continued to fall from center ring to granny gear on climbs. No problem, I’ll just granny gear it on hills and “re-adjust” it when I get home, BIG mistake. Approaching a four way stop on Edgemere, I slowed to about 15 mph because a van had the right of way. As most El Paso drivers do, he waved me through. I never changed out of the low gear, so I stood up to pedal through the intersection and the little problem of my chain popping off reared its ugly head. The pressure on the chain popped it completely off my crank, my foot went forward and I fell on my right side. I slid for about 15 feet on the not so soft asphalt, leaving quite a bit of skin along the way.

Not to worry, my bike is fine; I just need to replace the handlebar padding. As for myself, other than a bruised ego, sore ribs, sprained thumb and my right knee
and elbow looking like a pepperoni pizza, I’m fine. As always, I was wearing a helmet and gloves or it may have been worse. I hope to be riding in a couple of weeks.

Proper maintenance is essential to safe riding and unlike all the other hazards we face on the road, we have only ourselves to blame if something goes wrong due to lack of or improper maintenance. There’s more to bike repair than just turning a few screws and tightening a few cables.