Friday: I went straight from work to the airport, where I met Angie. We hopped on a flight to Long Beach. Angie's aunt and uncle picked us up at the airport and let us stay overnight at their house.

Saturday: Another aunt and uncle arrived at the house, and we all had dinner. Afterward, Angie and I met up with Ryan and Melissa before heading over to Naja's Place for beer—they had quite the selection, it should be noted, although I found the live music deafening. We stayed overnight at Ryan and Melissa's place in Redondo Beach.

Sunday: Ryan and Melissa joined us to watch the final stage of the Amgen Tour of California. We managed to find a spot where the cops didn't hassle us to move back from the road. We were so close to the race we could have quite literally reached out and touched the racers. The breeze of their passing whipped up the road grit and blew it into our faces. It was quite thrilling.

After the stage finished, Angie and I headed over to the team busses and acted like total groupies, elbowing in for photos and trying to get autographs. The racers finally retired from sight, so we wandered over to the podium to watch the final awards. Fences kept us from getting too close, so after Floyd Landis zoomed past on his way back to the Phonak bus, we wandered off.

We were walking up one of the closed side streets when the Discovery Channel bus rumbled past. A few blocks up the road it stopped and George Hincapie got off, dressed in street clothes. I don't know where he was going, but I guess he was trying to sneak around the crowd. Angie asked him if I could take his picture with her, and he graciously agreed. I felt bad about waylaying him, so I didn't ask him to linger for an extra photo as my weak camera battery struggled to run the autofocus and charge the flash, which is why I only took one slightly blurry picture.



I have more pictures from the race, and I'll post some of the good ones once I have time to go through them.

Monday: I spent all day trying to get home. Angie got out of John Wayne Airport—in first class, no less—around 3:00, but they didn't have room for me. As I was waiting for the next flight to Seattle, I ran into Tad, an acquaintance from my college days. He was waiting for a flight to Portland, but he was planning to drive to Seattle from there. He offered me a ride. I took him up on the offer and switched over to his flight.

There were plenty of seats, but I was only checked through to Oakland (it wasn't a non-stop flight). I hopped off the plane once we landed to check-in on the OAK-PDX leg, but I asked about flights to Seattle first. There was one departing in 90 minutes with plenty of open seats, so I switched to that. (Ninety minutes in an airport are much easier to handle than two-and-a-half hours in a car.) I sent Tad a text-message to let him know.

The flight to Seattle was delayed well over an hour, so I'm not sure I came out ahead. It was nearly midnight when I landed, and I didn't get home until 12:30. It was a long day.

Tuesday: I worked a full day on about four hours of sleep, which left me feeling pretty wiped-out. I did find the energy, though, to watch the last three stages of the Tour of California on videotape.

Wednesday: I came home from work and spent the afternoon moving furniture around in the living room. I guess that whole nesting thing affects fathers-to-be too.

Thursday: Felt like a zombie most of the day. I intended to start my running program back up, but I skipped it. So long, fitness!  ¶ 6:12 PM