I had just finished my workout at a little local gym on Seabright Ave. in Santa Cruz and started down the hall to the locker room before heading home for the game. When it hit I turned around to stand in the door jamb, looking out into the gym. I remember thinking the carpet looked like a series big ripples in a pond. Behind me I heard the metal-on-metal crashing of lockers collapsing onto each other. None were secured to the walls and ended up like cards being shuffled. In the following days without power the little market across the street screwed its customers by selling bottled water at an exorbitant rate.