In the last two days, I've biked twenty good miles after work and it's almost medicinal in how good I feel afterwards. Trashed and exhausted but in a good way.
Physically, I've broken through the 240 pounds I've weighed forever and am in the lower 230s. The suckage is wardrobe: my work clothes are too big and I hate shopping for clothes. I suppose it's a good problem to have.
Mentally, the rides are cathargic and help clean out the mental poisons if only because I'm too whupped to think about anything other biking (during) and sleep (after).
As warned, I am getting bored with this blog and may delete it soon. For now, I'll post only when something unusual happens.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
Mondays
The previous entry was written in the dark of night. I went on a 22-mile ride later that day.
As Heinlein is frequently quoted, "there's no such thing as a free lunch," and I paid for the ride by losing Sunday. Saturday after the ride, I felt great. Tired was to be expected but I was good from the accomplishment and pretty inwardly pleased.
I didn't wake up at all on Sunday and drifted from minute to minute. Looking back now, I should have had breakfast and gone back to bed but it was Father's Day, a Hallmark Holiday I don't enjoy nowadays and a day my daughters traditionally treat as an afterthought (proof: compare and contrast to Mother's Day). So I tried to deal with that as a zombie would: lurched into it. Not much success there.
The Saturday was great, though. It was a glorious Spring day and I was thankful to be mobile enough to get out into it. There were the usual aches and pains, and my new eternal nemesis, The Wind, was blowing hard even at 10:30 but this enemy is best ignored with a lower gear and fiercesome determination. In all, two hours on the bike. I can still feel it.
Stream of consciousness: lots of thoughts during the ride that, for the most part, centered on the ride and the feeling of being outside on a good day. No complaints.
Word of the ride: muscular.
As Heinlein is frequently quoted, "there's no such thing as a free lunch," and I paid for the ride by losing Sunday. Saturday after the ride, I felt great. Tired was to be expected but I was good from the accomplishment and pretty inwardly pleased.
I didn't wake up at all on Sunday and drifted from minute to minute. Looking back now, I should have had breakfast and gone back to bed but it was Father's Day, a Hallmark Holiday I don't enjoy nowadays and a day my daughters traditionally treat as an afterthought (proof: compare and contrast to Mother's Day). So I tried to deal with that as a zombie would: lurched into it. Not much success there.
The Saturday was great, though. It was a glorious Spring day and I was thankful to be mobile enough to get out into it. There were the usual aches and pains, and my new eternal nemesis, The Wind, was blowing hard even at 10:30 but this enemy is best ignored with a lower gear and fiercesome determination. In all, two hours on the bike. I can still feel it.
Stream of consciousness: lots of thoughts during the ride that, for the most part, centered on the ride and the feeling of being outside on a good day. No complaints.
Word of the ride: muscular.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Midnight Hour
It's actually 3:00 AM here in the city and I'm partially awake for no particular reason. This happens fairly frequently and the periods of semi-consciousness can last the duration of a good piss up to a couple of hours. The reasons can vary, too: tonight, the bedroom was hot and stuffy despite both windows being open.
Someone said stick a million monkeys in a room with a bunch of typewriters and eventually one will write Hamlet (a critic responded that with the internet, we can see that'll never be true). I myself struggle with the idea of fate and destiny versus chaos. Does God have a plan for each of us? Or do our significant decisions spawn alternate paths and realities? Perhaps this is why I like time-travel stories so the players "fix what once went wrong."
I am approaching the half-century mark and like most males my age, I am spending more time looking back and evaluating choices. On the one hand, I know things are locked and unchangeable yet I wish that I could go back and make up for the mistakes I've made that have hurt those near and far. A voice in my head says it's not too late for that but in some ways it is. Some hurts cannot be salved and some days cannot be redone and changed.
I would have done better if I cared more for other people than myself.
Someone said stick a million monkeys in a room with a bunch of typewriters and eventually one will write Hamlet (a critic responded that with the internet, we can see that'll never be true). I myself struggle with the idea of fate and destiny versus chaos. Does God have a plan for each of us? Or do our significant decisions spawn alternate paths and realities? Perhaps this is why I like time-travel stories so the players "fix what once went wrong."
I am approaching the half-century mark and like most males my age, I am spending more time looking back and evaluating choices. On the one hand, I know things are locked and unchangeable yet I wish that I could go back and make up for the mistakes I've made that have hurt those near and far. A voice in my head says it's not too late for that but in some ways it is. Some hurts cannot be salved and some days cannot be redone and changed.
I would have done better if I cared more for other people than myself.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Venting
I do not and will not comment on my day job here but I will say one of my major character flaws among many is I don't let things go. I will dwell and mull something until the horse is dead. And buried. And resurrected. And it dies again. You get the point.
I let something get to me this morning that shouldn't have, and I chewed on it until I was in a lather. The upside is I recognized the symptoms and took it out on my MTB versus doing something stupid at work (I hope). It was only a mile from my house to office but I feel better. Let's see how the afternoon goes.
I let something get to me this morning that shouldn't have, and I chewed on it until I was in a lather. The upside is I recognized the symptoms and took it out on my MTB versus doing something stupid at work (I hope). It was only a mile from my house to office but I feel better. Let's see how the afternoon goes.
Stepping
Funny things happen when you step on the scale: your mind doesn't want to believe your eyes. It happened to me this morning when I stepped up, grunted, got off, then thought about what I saw. I got back on and, yep, it was 234. That was my weight in 1991. Nice.
Last night was a marathon ride of eleven miles, not far but for this one straight stretch of road. I hunkered down into the wind and pedaled. Looking back, I understand now that I was in "gym mode" and focused solely on turned the pedals. It was hot and sweaty work but it’s what this fat boy needed to burn off the day.
I later went on a ride on the MTB with the wife through the neighborhood and I’m already seeing improvement in her fitness. The challenge is staying with the program but isn’t that the same for all of us.
Stream of consciousness: The “here and now” mentality of riding is creeping in a lot when I’m on the streeter and it’s looking like that’s normal. This bike is much faster and there’s less room for error because a mistake in traffic at 25 MPH would not be fun. I’m okay with that.
Word of the ride: smokin’.
Last night was a marathon ride of eleven miles, not far but for this one straight stretch of road. I hunkered down into the wind and pedaled. Looking back, I understand now that I was in "gym mode" and focused solely on turned the pedals. It was hot and sweaty work but it’s what this fat boy needed to burn off the day.
I later went on a ride on the MTB with the wife through the neighborhood and I’m already seeing improvement in her fitness. The challenge is staying with the program but isn’t that the same for all of us.
Stream of consciousness: The “here and now” mentality of riding is creeping in a lot when I’m on the streeter and it’s looking like that’s normal. This bike is much faster and there’s less room for error because a mistake in traffic at 25 MPH would not be fun. I’m okay with that.
Word of the ride: smokin’.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Two for One
Network is down this morning and am very glad to have brought in the broadband card. I grumble about overpaying on it but the 10% of the time I use it, I'm glad I spent the money.
After two days off, I got on two bikes yesterday. Did a 10-mile sprint (for me) around town and got some good sweat going. As the number of rides accumulate, so does my level of relaxation. I'm not hill climbing but I am having fun.
The other was a four-miler with my wife with her on the single-speed (me on my MT bike) and her thing flies when she gets going. I'd underestimated her wheels because it ain't fancy or technological but never again. She looked very comfortable and happy on it, too.
Stream of consciousness: not much. When I'm sprinting, I'm in the here and now. Summer is definately in the air now with temps in the upper 80s today. I look forward to sweating off more Big Macs.
Word of the ride(s): content.
After two days off, I got on two bikes yesterday. Did a 10-mile sprint (for me) around town and got some good sweat going. As the number of rides accumulate, so does my level of relaxation. I'm not hill climbing but I am having fun.
The other was a four-miler with my wife with her on the single-speed (me on my MT bike) and her thing flies when she gets going. I'd underestimated her wheels because it ain't fancy or technological but never again. She looked very comfortable and happy on it, too.
Stream of consciousness: not much. When I'm sprinting, I'm in the here and now. Summer is definately in the air now with temps in the upper 80s today. I look forward to sweating off more Big Macs.
Word of the ride(s): content.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Two Days on the DL
Had to rest my back on Monday and Tuesday (did SL on Tuesday). Starting to feel antsy about biking which is a good sign. My back's not 100% but it's good enough to get on the seat.
Did a work break walk this morning and it's warm out there for 10 AM. A touch of summer is on the air.
Did a work break walk this morning and it's warm out there for 10 AM. A touch of summer is on the air.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Dammit
My back was locked up most of Monday and prevented me from getting much sleep. Woke up at 3AM this morning, took some Advil and stayed awake until the wife went to work at 8AM. Showered and crashed and awake now. I feel a gazillion times better and want to hit the road but being on sick leave, going outside is not an option. The rest of the week should be great for riding with the moisture heading out.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Yakked
Long ago in antiquity, I strained my back badly to the point where I was flat on my back for days. Then the heavens parted and rained Advil down upon the Earth and things were good.
Every once in a while, though, the old injury comes back. Today is one of those days and I can feel it from shoulders to knees (almost). I'm working on the Advil and have no idea if I'm getting out on the road anytime soon.
In the meantime, please don't ask me to bend over to pick something up...
Every once in a while, though, the old injury comes back. Today is one of those days and I can feel it from shoulders to knees (almost). I'm working on the Advil and have no idea if I'm getting out on the road anytime soon.
In the meantime, please don't ask me to bend over to pick something up...
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Tooling Around Town
Was up way late last night and had a bunch of homework upon wake-up so I didn't get out for the morning ride. No matter. Today was the first day in a while with no threatening clouds and low-to-medium winds, so nothing was lost when I hit the rubber in the early afternoon. I thought briefly about heading up the canyon but decided today would be a pleasure ride. Took a hard left and headed east with the wind at my back. I sort of zigzagged around town then and did much of nothing on the nine-miler.
Stream of consciousness: as I came towards the end, I realized I thought less about operating the streeter and more about just riding it and having fun. That tells me we're getting used to each other and that's a nice feeling.
Word of the ride: relaxing.
Stream of consciousness: as I came towards the end, I realized I thought less about operating the streeter and more about just riding it and having fun. That tells me we're getting used to each other and that's a nice feeling.
Word of the ride: relaxing.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Sprint to Subway
Did a fast 4-miler to get lunch and am glad I did the long ride earlier in the morning. The afternoon gales were already kicking but the streeter had no problems. We averaged about 15 MPH and would have done better if not for the wind in my face from all points of the compass.
Stream of consciousness: another tune. "Oh Sherrie" with Steve Perry. Hold on to our love?
Word of the ride: jazzed.
Stream of consciousness: another tune. "Oh Sherrie" with Steve Perry. Hold on to our love?
Word of the ride: jazzed.
Cloudy All Over
Hit the road this morning with no enthusiasm or energy. When hobbies turn into obligations, there's less fun and more whining. Nevertheless, I got going and did 10 miles if only to keep my riding mojo going.
The funny part of the experience was the calories expended: 666. And this is the 13th entry of this blog. Coincidence? Omen?
Mentioned in the previous post, Mary is on a bicycling endurance ride of 2700 miles (Canada to Mexico), and she and thirty riders will take three weeks to ride the Rocky Mountains to the Mexican border. Dang. I dunno if I'm envious or weirded out but more power to the participants.
Stream of consciousness: I must be getting more comfortable on the streeter because I was taking more notice of my surroundings (outside of the idiot drivers) and had a song stuck in my head: Abba's "The Winner Takes It All". When songs get stuck like that, it's usually my subconscious sending me a message but I dunno what it could be this time. It'll come in time.
Word of the ride: bedeviled.
The funny part of the experience was the calories expended: 666. And this is the 13th entry of this blog. Coincidence? Omen?
Mentioned in the previous post, Mary is on a bicycling endurance ride of 2700 miles (Canada to Mexico), and she and thirty riders will take three weeks to ride the Rocky Mountains to the Mexican border. Dang. I dunno if I'm envious or weirded out but more power to the participants.
Stream of consciousness: I must be getting more comfortable on the streeter because I was taking more notice of my surroundings (outside of the idiot drivers) and had a song stuck in my head: Abba's "The Winner Takes It All". When songs get stuck like that, it's usually my subconscious sending me a message but I dunno what it could be this time. It'll come in time.
Word of the ride: bedeviled.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Today's Heroes
Whilst I pause from work to curse at the moisture-laden clouds that threaten my afternoon ride (hello…desert here), I have to give thanks to my four biking inspirations. Their blogs are fascinating and serve to push me to better myself as a user of two wheels and perhaps even as human being, though some may question the possibility of the latter. I don’t wish to embarrass them or me with their real names and links, so I’ll call them Tom, Jim, and Mary for the purposes of this post. Folks who cruise biking blogs will recognize them immediately.
Jim is the local bicyclist and community leader. He is a selfless sort who pushes bikers to be better by serving as an example. In my mind, he has the ideal life: a loving family, a respectable job, and the friendship and respect of his peers. Through our dealings via the social networks and brief in-person interactions, I can’t imagine anyone saying a bad thing about him. A good guy.
Mary’s life is far less stable and, as often the case, incredibly interesting. She bikes in the world’s most inhospitable setting and never gives into the environment, even after suffering what most folks would deem a significant injury. She uses her bike as a means to discover herself though I wonder if she also uses it to escape from it (not unlike me a little). Whenever I’m down on myself for some imaginary injury, I remember Mary’s out there on the road, plugging away.
I can barely read Tom’s blog because he is a hero for reasons thrust upon him. His wife suffers from terminal cancer and, from the tone of his posts, it is only a matter of time now. He recognizes that there is little he can do for her but maybe not for someone else’s wife. Through his website and his friends at the grassroots level, he’s raised thousands of dollars for cancer research. His darkest days are coming but I hope he finds strength in knowing he’s helped countless others in his struggles, including me.
The fourth inspiration is, of course, my spouse who patiently waits by the cell phone with the first aid kit in hand every time I go out. She worries with good reason because I sometimes seem bound and determined to hurt myself in some new way but she doesn’t stop me from hitting the road. I am grateful for that beyond measure.
Jim is the local bicyclist and community leader. He is a selfless sort who pushes bikers to be better by serving as an example. In my mind, he has the ideal life: a loving family, a respectable job, and the friendship and respect of his peers. Through our dealings via the social networks and brief in-person interactions, I can’t imagine anyone saying a bad thing about him. A good guy.
Mary’s life is far less stable and, as often the case, incredibly interesting. She bikes in the world’s most inhospitable setting and never gives into the environment, even after suffering what most folks would deem a significant injury. She uses her bike as a means to discover herself though I wonder if she also uses it to escape from it (not unlike me a little). Whenever I’m down on myself for some imaginary injury, I remember Mary’s out there on the road, plugging away.
I can barely read Tom’s blog because he is a hero for reasons thrust upon him. His wife suffers from terminal cancer and, from the tone of his posts, it is only a matter of time now. He recognizes that there is little he can do for her but maybe not for someone else’s wife. Through his website and his friends at the grassroots level, he’s raised thousands of dollars for cancer research. His darkest days are coming but I hope he finds strength in knowing he’s helped countless others in his struggles, including me.
The fourth inspiration is, of course, my spouse who patiently waits by the cell phone with the first aid kit in hand every time I go out. She worries with good reason because I sometimes seem bound and determined to hurt myself in some new way but she doesn’t stop me from hitting the road. I am grateful for that beyond measure.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Home
Was reminded tonight why I got the lighter bike. The heavy is more stable in the wind but it's slower than molasses. Push come to shove, I'll take the stability for the short rides and speed for the long ones.
By the way, (70 degrees and 20+ MPH) - Wind Chill = shorts and t-shirt is a bad idea.
Overall, I feel better than I expected after the 20-miler yesterday. Maybe the bod is getting used to it but it's probably the deep sleep that made the difference, a cure for many things.
By the way, (70 degrees and 20+ MPH) - Wind Chill = shorts and t-shirt is a bad idea.
Overall, I feel better than I expected after the 20-miler yesterday. Maybe the bod is getting used to it but it's probably the deep sleep that made the difference, a cure for many things.
Beginning of an Addiction
I didn't wait until after work. I pulled out the big bike at lunch, pumped up the tires, and headed back to work. The biggest difference between the two bikes is getting started after a complete stop. Otherwise, it felt good to have something solid versus the feeling of riding a set of coat hangers.
The too-short ride cured my nerves and I'm more relaxed now. Is this what it's like to have a morphine (endorphin) addiction?
The too-short ride cured my nerves and I'm more relaxed now. Is this what it's like to have a morphine (endorphin) addiction?
The Next Day
Not feeling too bad after yesterday's ride. Must be a combination of Advil, eight hours of really deep sleep, and (maybe) my body's getting used to the new exercise. Earlier I was pondering a rest day but caught myself later thinking about pulling out the mountain bike after work. Funny how we forget pain sometimes.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Playing Hooky
I hate sweat in my eyes. I hate it a lot more at 25 miles per hour.
Don't believe the hype about the "best years of your life" because high school sucked so much. An acquaintance from back then asked me a few years ago if I wanted to go back and I said, "Hell no." Acne, hormonal surges, clique issues and the fact I was a high-strung dumbass combined for a forgettable experience. If I were transported back in time to those days, I would spend the four years doing every thing right and making it up to those I did wrong (a long list).
This came to mind as I ditched work today for a ride because there is no feeling like leaving work/school when it serves no useful purpose. All of my chores were caught up and the walls had closed in, so I scooted home and hopped on the new bike. My intent was a quick ride around town, maybe 12 miles, because the wind was blowing hard again but once rolling, I just kept going.
The first ten miles were just okay and the suckiness didn't set in until about mile 12. The hills had the sweat pouring out, and without warning, blinded me when I was pumping the pedals hard. A quick slowdown and prayer and I was good to go but the heart was going there for a second.
(Memo to self: chapstick!)
The afternoon wind blows west to east here and, naturally, I was going east to west for the last legs home and I couldn't get any real speed but I was going a heck of a lot faster than if I'd been on the mountain bike. The lighter roadie is smooth through the gusts as long as it's going head-on. I made it home in good time with 20 miles total and 1100 useless calories behind me.
This exercising is rough and I ache all over now but I remember how it was when I started on this path a while back. The first twenty rides or so were the hardest but I did adapt and, given time, I'll get more comfortable and relaxed again. In the meantime, I'll keep riding and I'll keep pushing.
No steam of consciousness...well, not exactly true. There was this point before the sweat come down where I had this incredible view of the valley and I was thinking, pains and all, I would much rather be there then at work. It's a start.
Word of the ride: ouch.
Don't believe the hype about the "best years of your life" because high school sucked so much. An acquaintance from back then asked me a few years ago if I wanted to go back and I said, "Hell no." Acne, hormonal surges, clique issues and the fact I was a high-strung dumbass combined for a forgettable experience. If I were transported back in time to those days, I would spend the four years doing every thing right and making it up to those I did wrong (a long list).
This came to mind as I ditched work today for a ride because there is no feeling like leaving work/school when it serves no useful purpose. All of my chores were caught up and the walls had closed in, so I scooted home and hopped on the new bike. My intent was a quick ride around town, maybe 12 miles, because the wind was blowing hard again but once rolling, I just kept going.
The first ten miles were just okay and the suckiness didn't set in until about mile 12. The hills had the sweat pouring out, and without warning, blinded me when I was pumping the pedals hard. A quick slowdown and prayer and I was good to go but the heart was going there for a second.
(Memo to self: chapstick!)
The afternoon wind blows west to east here and, naturally, I was going east to west for the last legs home and I couldn't get any real speed but I was going a heck of a lot faster than if I'd been on the mountain bike. The lighter roadie is smooth through the gusts as long as it's going head-on. I made it home in good time with 20 miles total and 1100 useless calories behind me.
This exercising is rough and I ache all over now but I remember how it was when I started on this path a while back. The first twenty rides or so were the hardest but I did adapt and, given time, I'll get more comfortable and relaxed again. In the meantime, I'll keep riding and I'll keep pushing.
No steam of consciousness...well, not exactly true. There was this point before the sweat come down where I had this incredible view of the valley and I was thinking, pains and all, I would much rather be there then at work. It's a start.
Word of the ride: ouch.
No Ride
Took yesterday to recover. Saw in the paper that t-storms will be the norm for a while. Will probably have to go to the gym. Yuck.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Morning After Pills
Still fuzzy from a bad night and yesterday's ride. I'm a volunteer so shuttin' my mouth on that noise.
If I ride after work (and that's a big "if"), it'll be all flats. The wind is no longer a big deal because I was slicing through it yesterday.
Got on the scale this morning. 243. It was 236 over the weekend. Crap.
Right now, Caffeine and Advil: breakfast of champions.
If I ride after work (and that's a big "if"), it'll be all flats. The wind is no longer a big deal because I was slicing through it yesterday.
Got on the scale this morning. 243. It was 236 over the weekend. Crap.
Right now, Caffeine and Advil: breakfast of champions.
Monday, June 8, 2009
No Crash Landing
Took my first real hill today and 'whupped' is an understatement. I was not in a good physical place to start, having not slept well and having a mediocre work day but I figured there would be no ideal situation ever. My mind was made up when I saw the wind was low, so I geared up and headed up.
Before I got started, I got the Camelbak working (win) but the new rearview mirror wouldn't stay in place (fail on me) and I broke the cheap bike bag (fail on them). I disregarded these omens and hit the road, Jack.
(A small detour: I believe in omens but only when they fit my plans.)
I made it to the hill and knew I was in trouble right away because I had no legs after a minute. I'd pedal a couple of hundred feet, stop to catch my breath, and repeated that three times (I think) as I snaked the front wheel upwards. I got to the top eventually but any ideas about going further were dead on arrival.
The descent was far tougher the ascent because the low winds changed to high winds in front of a fast-moving cold front (lots of lightning and thunder as I write this). Big gusts are no joke on a light bike and I tested those disc brakes almost all of the way home.
I sit here now, looking at the Advil, and forcing my eyes to stay open for another hour. I'm trying to think if I had any "stream of consciousness" moments but all I remember is the fear and happiness of staying in the saddle in the wind.
Word of the ride: relieved.
Before I got started, I got the Camelbak working (win) but the new rearview mirror wouldn't stay in place (fail on me) and I broke the cheap bike bag (fail on them). I disregarded these omens and hit the road, Jack.
(A small detour: I believe in omens but only when they fit my plans.)
I made it to the hill and knew I was in trouble right away because I had no legs after a minute. I'd pedal a couple of hundred feet, stop to catch my breath, and repeated that three times (I think) as I snaked the front wheel upwards. I got to the top eventually but any ideas about going further were dead on arrival.
The descent was far tougher the ascent because the low winds changed to high winds in front of a fast-moving cold front (lots of lightning and thunder as I write this). Big gusts are no joke on a light bike and I tested those disc brakes almost all of the way home.
I sit here now, looking at the Advil, and forcing my eyes to stay open for another hour. I'm trying to think if I had any "stream of consciousness" moments but all I remember is the fear and happiness of staying in the saddle in the wind.
Word of the ride: relieved.
No Morning Ride
I say I might do a morning ride then have no motivation when I wake up. I am not a morning person.
From this week's News of the Weird.
In 1993 India Scott dated both Darryl Fletcher and Brandon Ventimeglia when she lived in Detroit and moved in with Fletcher in 1994 when she was about to give birth. Neither knew about the other, and she had told each man he was the father. For two difficult years, Scott somehow managed to juggle the men's visitations, but in March 1997 when she announced she was leaving the area, both Fletcher and Ventimeglia separately filed for custody of "his" son. Only then did Ventimeglia and Fletcher find out about each other. They took blood tests to determine which was the real father of the boy they had caring for for more than two years, and in May 1997 the blood test revealed that neither was. [St. Petersburg Times, 5-14-97]
From this week's News of the Weird.
In 1993 India Scott dated both Darryl Fletcher and Brandon Ventimeglia when she lived in Detroit and moved in with Fletcher in 1994 when she was about to give birth. Neither knew about the other, and she had told each man he was the father. For two difficult years, Scott somehow managed to juggle the men's visitations, but in March 1997 when she announced she was leaving the area, both Fletcher and Ventimeglia separately filed for custody of "his" son. Only then did Ventimeglia and Fletcher find out about each other. They took blood tests to determine which was the real father of the boy they had caring for for more than two years, and in May 1997 the blood test revealed that neither was. [St. Petersburg Times, 5-14-97]
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Wind Runner
Did an afternoon ride and the bike slips nicely through the wind.
Spent three or four hours today doing the homework thing and I make it much more of a drama than it needs to be. A horrible procrastinator, I'm known to do almost anything to not start typing away, especially if it's a subject I know little about. When I finally start, I will bullshit my way through instead of verifying my facts. It works for my University of the Lowest Common Denominator and for this class: I've gotten nearly perfect papers so far (33.5 out of 34 points).
In today's assignment, we're supposed to do a 4-6 page paper on updating a company's network and connectivity configuration. I know little to none about networks so the paper is now eight pages long with four or five references and five attachments. Why? See above sentence on "Bullshit".
As of the afternoon ride, I killed out there on the road. I wanted to go longer but the adrenalin was flowing and there would have been little sleep had I continued. Seven miles is good. As there's rain in the forecast tomorrow, there may be a pre-work ride.
Stream of consciousness...none.
Word of the ride: windkiller.
Spent three or four hours today doing the homework thing and I make it much more of a drama than it needs to be. A horrible procrastinator, I'm known to do almost anything to not start typing away, especially if it's a subject I know little about. When I finally start, I will bullshit my way through instead of verifying my facts. It works for my University of the Lowest Common Denominator and for this class: I've gotten nearly perfect papers so far (33.5 out of 34 points).
In today's assignment, we're supposed to do a 4-6 page paper on updating a company's network and connectivity configuration. I know little to none about networks so the paper is now eight pages long with four or five references and five attachments. Why? See above sentence on "Bullshit".
As of the afternoon ride, I killed out there on the road. I wanted to go longer but the adrenalin was flowing and there would have been little sleep had I continued. Seven miles is good. As there's rain in the forecast tomorrow, there may be a pre-work ride.
Stream of consciousness...none.
Word of the ride: windkiller.
Second Ride
Went further and faster today...blah blah blah. Okay, 16 miles in about an hour.
I've said elsewhere that God made Sunday mornings for hangovers, churchin' and bike rides. There was hardly any traffic but the lack of a left rearview mirror is severely impacting my comfort zone. Aside from that, hill climbing is a kick on the new bike once I figure out the right gear combination. That did not happen on going west on King Street but it was close going up Fairview (formerly Edmonds) and Fifth, and it was perfect going up the baby hill on West Fifth (where I parked for my driving test back in the Stone Age).
Another thing throwing me off are the shifters. The thumb on the right makes it harder to pedal but the left thumb makes it easier, and the brake shifters are the reverse. If I want to speed cycle, it's right thumb/left hand. For the hills, it's left thumb/right hand. Shimano did that because (I think) they want you to be able to slow down and not wear yourself out on hills. It's different.
My plan is to take on more hills and prepare for the ride to Bowers Mansion by the end of June.
As for the stream of consciousness...nada again. I feel more like a "real" bicyclist on the Kona but am still struggling to relax and enjoy the ride. I'm tight and tired now when I should be feeling mellow but that will come in time after I figure things out. The big upside is the hour I spent riding cancelled out three slices of French Toast so there will be more of that riding.
Sixteen miles and whaddya get: another day old and deeper in ache. So it don't rhyme. Sue me.
The single word to describe this ride: pumped.
I've said elsewhere that God made Sunday mornings for hangovers, churchin' and bike rides. There was hardly any traffic but the lack of a left rearview mirror is severely impacting my comfort zone. Aside from that, hill climbing is a kick on the new bike once I figure out the right gear combination. That did not happen on going west on King Street but it was close going up Fairview (formerly Edmonds) and Fifth, and it was perfect going up the baby hill on West Fifth (where I parked for my driving test back in the Stone Age).
Another thing throwing me off are the shifters. The thumb on the right makes it harder to pedal but the left thumb makes it easier, and the brake shifters are the reverse. If I want to speed cycle, it's right thumb/left hand. For the hills, it's left thumb/right hand. Shimano did that because (I think) they want you to be able to slow down and not wear yourself out on hills. It's different.
My plan is to take on more hills and prepare for the ride to Bowers Mansion by the end of June.
As for the stream of consciousness...nada again. I feel more like a "real" bicyclist on the Kona but am still struggling to relax and enjoy the ride. I'm tight and tired now when I should be feeling mellow but that will come in time after I figure things out. The big upside is the hour I spent riding cancelled out three slices of French Toast so there will be more of that riding.
Sixteen miles and whaddya get: another day old and deeper in ache. So it don't rhyme. Sue me.
The single word to describe this ride: pumped.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
June 6, 2009
This one's for my riding and I started this blog on a whim because I don't want to clutter the other blogs and the social networks more than it's already done. My mission is to post to this place after every ride to catch my stream of consciousness. If I get bored, I'll delete the blog. I get bored easy.
Today was the first ride on my new bike and its pricetag makes me cringe but I bought it, anyway. I've been dieting for 205 days now and I'm still the same weight as I was sixty days ago. Maybe this new ride will break me through.
And what a ride. My fifteen-year-old self would have recognized my old mountain bike but not the new streeter: titanium alloy frame, shifters and disc brakes are modern tools for the 21st century biking idiot. Coupled with my fear of crashing, today's ride made me more than a little nervous. And slow. We staying mostly on the flats and my hands rarely left the brakes, but there was no need to worry. Even in rain, the bike presented no problems. In fact, I was more worried at some points that I would overpower the pedals and crash (been there, done that).
There was no stream of consciousness today other than: Don't fall.
Today's ride in one word: tentative.
Today was the first ride on my new bike and its pricetag makes me cringe but I bought it, anyway. I've been dieting for 205 days now and I'm still the same weight as I was sixty days ago. Maybe this new ride will break me through.
And what a ride. My fifteen-year-old self would have recognized my old mountain bike but not the new streeter: titanium alloy frame, shifters and disc brakes are modern tools for the 21st century biking idiot. Coupled with my fear of crashing, today's ride made me more than a little nervous. And slow. We staying mostly on the flats and my hands rarely left the brakes, but there was no need to worry. Even in rain, the bike presented no problems. In fact, I was more worried at some points that I would overpower the pedals and crash (been there, done that).
There was no stream of consciousness today other than: Don't fall.
Today's ride in one word: tentative.
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