I am pretty sure that the person or persons that decided to add Gortex to Sidi shoes should indeed win some form of International award…perhaps in the Nobel category. Furthermore, I am sure that if ever given the opportunity I will indeed kiss (with tounge) that person or people who brought together such a wicked awesome combination of Sidi and Gortex.
The other day on Facebook I threw out the quote “Its December, in Michigan, there is snow….get over it.” In response to all of the epic whining going on about the snow. Because it’s pretty much a guarantee that the snow will fly here in the Mitten state. Last week it did which led me to the belief that I would be relegated to trainer rides until at least March. Me being me, which is to say Me having a few screws loose in the brain matter that sits atop my neck I decide to go ride anyway, because lets just face the facts I have pretty much ridden in worse. I layer up and hit the road, cold…no big deal, wind…who cares, snow….I spit at you snow! Here in the Mitten we have some killer road crews that can clear a road while most people are still watching Good Morning America and slugging down quadruple espressos. I found side of the road actually quite hospitable, albeit a tad wet and perhaps a tad muddy. It’s all in the equipment I say, the warm shoes, the insulated tights, the warm gloves, the bike that can plow through snow drifts when you want it to, all of it lent to a good ride in otherwise miserable conditions. I will be working on adding a gas heater to my garage though because it is simply just not fun to strip down to your riding shorts in a 20 degree garage so you don’t track mud and slush into the house.
I know this post is a day or two late but I wanted to back up my Ipod Freeze-Proof Upgrade with good solid field testing. Two days of riding, day one was 30 degrees day two was 26 degrees. Day one ride was 1 hour 24 minutes, day two ride was 1 hour 34 minutes. Here is the step by step tutorial with bonus pictures.
Step 1: Go to your local Army Surplus store walk past the creepy man behind the counter that is chain smoking while eating two foot long Subway subs and drinking what looks to be a gallon of cola. Find the cheap chemical handwarmers (the kind you shake and they heat up) buy a few of them (I paid $1.00 each.) Take them to the creepy guy and wait patiently while he finishes his bite and licks his fingers (apparently Subway ran out of napkins) Ignore the mayo on his chin and the mustard on his use-to-be-white-but-now-its-tan-cause-he-has-less-than-stellar-hygene-habits Tshirt. Pay, walk to your car, use excessive amount of hand sanitizer to clean your hands, and drive home.
Step 2: You will need the following items: 2 rubber bands, 1 handwarmer, 1 Ipod
Step 3: Chose your playlist or your album, set volume to your liking and press play.
Step 4: Lock the controls on your Ipod
Step 5: Place handwarmer on the face of your Ipod and affix the hand warmer to your Ipod with the two rubberbands (referenced in Step 2)
Did you know I am obsessed with Punk music? I will bet you didn’t know that, well now you know. With that being said did you also know I ride with headphones….ALL THE TIME. No exceptions, no variances from this practice, never ever, never. Part of the reason I ride with music is the sound of my breathing annoys me to no end, I know what your thinking “This dude just gets weirder by the hour” I assure you it’s the truth. Now I have been rocking along with the same Ipod I have owned for a few years now, the classic 30g and let me tell you it is packed full with serious punk music. Bands like Black Flag, Minor Threat, Suicidal Tendencies, The Clash, Rollins Band, Misfits, Danzig, Social Distortion, Gwar, Rancid, The Ramones, etc etc. There is a pre ride ritual I go through, headphones…check, proper selection for the mood of the day….check, volume…check, off we go. So, yesterday I am riding I plan on a fast paced 24 mile jaunt, its about 31 degrees slight wind. I have on my new shoes feet are warm, head is warm, life is good….until I get to mile 7. Now mile 7 I am feeling good, legs are feeling good, average speed is up, the sun is out and the birds (at least the ones that have not migrated south) are chirping. Then it happens, sudden silence in my ears….I can hear my own breathing and it isn’t pretty. I stop and fish out the trusty Ipod from my chest pocket…blankness. Now I know for a fact the battery was all charged up leaving one possible explanation for this malfunction, it’s frozen. Yes folks the classic Ipods can indeed freeze and mine froze leaving me many more miles to go in silence. Since I did not fancy shoving the hunk of cold metal and plastic down my pants to warm it up I suffered without it. I can see this is going to be a problem in the upcoming months so I have devised a fiendishly clever way to keep my Ipod from freezing that I will be testing on today’s ride. If it works I plan on a patent and will post the pics of my fiendishly clever invention tomorrow.
Sheesh I have not posted since before Thanksgiving….admittedly I am a slacker. Thanksgiving was fine, despite the temptations of a full dessert table and all of the fixings and trappings that come with such a feast I stood fast and did not cave. I probably would have however my Sister-in-Law and Brother made some special dishes just for me. After much cajoling telling them not to go through the trouble of preparing ME anything special…well they ignored my pleas. They conjured up a vegan dish that was so good it nearly melted my face clean off of my skull. Surprisingly (not really) no one else in the family even came close to eating any portion of this dish leaving me with all of the leftovers….that my friends is how you turn a frown upside-down. I started off the day with a ride, taking advantage of the non existent holiday traffic patterns; essentially I had the road all to myself. 24 miles in sweet solitary and 24 miles of absolute pain. It was about 30 degrees and I am still severely under prepared for cold weather riding. My toes and feet were absolutely numb when I got home. My fingers felt like they were frozen in place wrapped around the handlebars and my throat felt like someone glanced across it with an oxy-acetylene torch.
With that being said I laid out a battle plan for this cold weather riding business the plan consisted of buying a lot of gear for just such instances. So into the shop I trot eyes glazed over with anticipation of newly purchased swag, warm swag, comfy swag…you get the point. It took exactly 54.2 seconds to dash my dreams into the rocks, for this is how long it took me to put on a riding jacket in the largest size they had only to find out it still does not fit. Now, nothing can take the wind out of the sails of your weight loss ship like that of a item of clothing not fitting, compound that fact by the fact you don’t fit into the largest size carried in the store and you get just downright depressed. If that is not depressing enough go to the website of your favorite brand of bikes, clothing and equipment only to find out they don’t make a bigger size…and you straight up feel like Jabba the Hut. Come on now guys if XL is the largest you make I feel you can do better especially if your XL is like a medium….you know who you are.
There was a silver lining to this tempest though. I am Irish and what is the first thing you think when you think “Irish”? No not that thing…..nope guess again…..come on….fine I will tell you what you should be thinking “LUCK” you know like “Luck of the Irish.” The only issue is I am the un-luckiest Irishman you will ever meet in your life. If I didn’t have bad luck I would have no luck at all. On with the story, I ask for some cold weather shoes….they have one pair. Not one style they literally have one single pair in the store. I think to myself “Yeah probably in some elfish like size….damn my luck” he brings them to me…size 46….anyone want to guess what size I wear? I WEAR A FREAKING 46! I snatch them out of the box and strap them upon my feet…..perfection. Are they warm I ask…..I am assured that they are indeed warm. Welcome to the bonus round of this story, they are also on sale, not regular sale, not insane sale, they are on ridiculous sale. I slap my money on the counter and scamper home.
I can’t wait to get them on and ride so I make haste, they are warm and they are crazy comfortable. This is the third pair of riding shoes I now own and by far the most comfortable…love them.
I don’t know why I never looked further up the road, I suspect it was a simple intersection that nothing more than a glace to the right and left and back on to the comfort of the crushed limestone trail. On this particular day I looked to the left and my eyes fell upon it. Like a sickeningly grotesque Leviathan rising from the murky depths the muddy and battered road ascended into the trees at a nausea inducing pitch. I actually had to crane my neck towards the heavens in order to see the summit of this beast. A voice from the woods whispered “go” and I shivered, standing in the wind driven rain. The voice came again slightly softer than the first and drew out the word “goooo” I looked down the trail, that long comfortable trail…level, safe, clean. The limestone trail is the easy way, the giant hill to my left is the hard way. I turn toward the left, adjust my gears, tighten the wrist straps on my gloves, and unzip my jacket. I stop before I get to the foot of the monster, retrieve the Ipod out of my pocket and roll my thumb across the wheel looking for just such a soundtrack for the misery I am no doubt going to face. I find it, the sweet melodic tunes of Slayer…. surely talk of hell and Satan will get me to the top.
I mount once again and I glance down at the bike and at my feet and at my legs…all covered in a thick layer of mud. I start the climb and quickly have to grab for a lower gear, and another, and more yet. I focus on my front tire and the thin spray of water and mud projecting off of it. I grab for another low gear and realize there is not one any lower than the one I am in. One thought crosses my mind, pain which is quickly followed by numb. I abandon any semblance of controlled breathing and cling to gasping desperation. I am moving so slow I fell like I am going to roll backward down this monster, I glance down at my bottle lusting after its contents. Just a few more pedal strokes and this victory will be mine. And then the road levels, I pedal on slowly climbing the gears and give a final glace back at the conquered foe.
I had to drop of the Tri-Cross today for its (severely late) 15 ride check up. In all honesty I could blame the entire month of October for all of its craptastic glory. You remember my October right? I thought you would, being the astute readers that you are. So I wheel her in and am immediately overcome with a sudden panic that I will have to leave the care of this bike in the hands of someone else. What if someone robs the shop? What if they accidentally give the bike to the wrong person? What if…What if…What if. Its nearly to much to think about. Then Jeff steps in, takes the bike from me and wheels it up to the counter. Wherein he bombards me with the busy upcoming schedule of events going on in, near, and around the shop. One…ok Two items catch my attention first is the New Years Day ride which starts at noon and in Michigan you are pretty much guaranteed mucho snow and sub zero temps. I am down with that FO SHO! The second is a Basic Maintenance class offered at the shop. Now given my propensity to break things and my further propensity to try to fix things that I clearly know I can’t further breaking things…I am signing up for the class. A wise shop owner would try to chase me away from such a class given the fact it will no doubt have an impact on his sales. Here is the formula: Gene tries to fix $10.00 bike part + Gene gets mad and breaks the $50.00 part attached to the $10.00 part + Gene also breaks the tool he was using to fix the $10.00 part = Gene has to go to bike shop and purchase new $10.00 part, $50.00 part and new tool. See how it works?
Still struggling through “The Ultimate Ride” ….of course I used this book to further my Kindle request telling my wife I could have understood this book infinitely better had I read it using a Kindle. Pretty sure she saw right through that one though.
So the epically epic forth and backy trip to Florida went….well about like I thought it would. Arrive in Florida on Friday morning, immediately set about loading a 24 foot box truck with the In-laws earthly possessions, realize they should have got the 28 foot truck, curse the sky at the weight of the Wurlitzer piano my mother-in-law owns, shower, eat, bed, get up at sweet Mary mother of God early and drive. Therein lies the problem, 24 foot trucks from rental companies are not meant to be driven from Florida to Michigan…ever! There is the spine compressing seat, the FM radio with no Ipod jack or CD player, a misbehaving cruise control, and a top speed of a whopping 65 miles per hour.
Did I mention that my cohort in this trip was my brother-in-law? Perhaps I should have? Now my brother-in-law is a nice enough guy who has a wicked cool job and with a wicked cool job come wicked awesome stories, the kind of stories that can only be forged by having such an awesome job. What’s his job you ask? Well I can’t really tell you, what I can tell you is he works for an agency that puts really bad people behind bars and he does so by looking and acting like the previously mentioned bad people. If I tell you more I will have to kill you (of course I am kidding). This leads to travel problem number 2, when traveling great distances with someone who looks like a criminal people treat you like you are traveling with a criminal. In some cases when you are in, lets just say for instance, LEXINGTON FREAKING KENTUCKY….someone will try to sell your criminal looking brother-in-law drugs, which IS the last person on the planet you want to try to sell drugs to (please refer to my previous statement about him putting bad people behind bars) needless to say the drug transaction had some severe negative consequences to the would be drug dealer.
Now, it was considerably warmer in Florida and Georgia than it is in Michigan and with such warmth comes insane jealousy in seeing cyclists rubbing my nose in the fact that they can and do ride in shorts and sleeveless jerseys. So much so that one went out of his way by having a custom jersey silk-screened to say “Ha Ha Ha Gene you tool! Look at me riding in this warm weather in my shorts and sleeveless jersey!” Now you may find this funny, I fail to see the humor especially since I have to wear 4 layers of clothing just to think about riding in Michigan then I have to add one more in order to actually do it. I won’t even bring up the abundance of cycling lanes and apparently the strong cycling lobby that had a custom license plate made available to cyclists in Georgia. You year round warm state people really are quite snarky.
I picked up “The Ultimate Ride” by Chris Carmichael to read on the flight and the return drive home. Unfortunately since this book requires heavy concentration just to digest what in the world he is talking about I stopped reading it in the truck and have picked it back up at work. Interesting so far although I get lost in the gratuitous use of acronyms and formulas. I find the section on diets quite interesting.
If you need me I will be on my bike….so don’t need me.
This day of random thoughts and updates brought to you by sleep deprivation:
*I will not be around again until Tuesday; I am flying to Florida early tomorrow morning to help my in-laws pack up their house for their move back to Michigan. I will arrive late Friday morning pack up the moving truck then leave Friday night for the 2 day drive back to Michigan. Should be a whole barrel full of fun (I say in a highly sarcastic tone).
*The Tuesday night race at Indian Springs was fun and complete torture at the same time. We rode the 6 miles out to the loop and then did 10 laps race style. The series was tied at 5 laps a piece and the last lap was done in near complete darkness, the 6 mile ride back to the parking lot was done in complete darkness which is just plain creepy to ride through a dark wooded path in the middle of no where on an overcast night. I fully expected a chainsaw wielding psycho to jump out at any time. Two of the laps we did head to head the other 8 we did the whole clockwise counter clockwise thing. Never have my legs burned so badly.
*I did something totally dumb yesterday….It was Veterans day and as usual like I have done for about 20 years I grabbed my cell phone hit speed dial #4 in order to tell my Dad “Thanks, and Happy Veterans Day”….it was only when the recorded message saying the number is no longer in service did I realize that I would ever utter those words to him again. I was in a foul mood for the rest of the day and work only made it worse.
*MO-Vember….this stalled as quickly as it started. I was 8 days into the “stache” when I was forced to shave it off. I had to go to a FEMA Haz-Mat Weapons of Mass Destruction upgrade training to maintain my FEMA USAR classification. Seems some desk jockey saw to need to also upgrade (or downgrade in my opinion) our chemical masks which meant we had to be “Fit-Tested” for our new ones. Fit testing is a arduous process where you have to do a series of activities whilst wearing the mask and a computer measures the interior pressure and tells the desk jockey if you pass or not. I was ordered to shave in order to “fully guarantee successful and proper fitting of the mask”….I call Bull S*&t on the entire process. So here I sit with no facial hair on my face.
I don’t think you can definitively and accurately name the mood I have been in for the last week. Pissed, sorrowful, stressed, disengaged, antisocial, quiet, lazy….all of those things evenly placed into the bowl and blended together in perfect harmony with a balanced bouquet of spiteful aftertaste. Yep, that’s me…finding it far easier to make excuses and find reasons not to ride when a few weeks ago I was spinning fantastic yarns in order to go ride. I would tell the boss I had a family thing, I would tell the family I had a work thing, all the while stealing a few hours a day to go ride. Not so much now, its too cold, its too windy, its too_______ (fill in the blank) I am both outwardly and inwardly ashamed of myself. I have also been dealing with yet another health issue…now I have shingles. So I survive Swine Flu and am afflicted with the painfully horrid shingles on my ribcage. Did you know shingles are brought on by stress? Have I been stressed out for the past month? Why yes, yes I have been and there is nothing I can do about it right now. For the past two days the weather around my parts has been unusually warm. Like 60 degrees warm and yesterday it crept right up to the line that separates the 60’s from the 70’s. I decided enough was enough, no more puttering around the house, no more excuses. I went to Indian Springs which has an 8 mile long paved “trail” and I use trail for a lack of a better term to use. I chose this path as an alternative to playing in traffic. The path heads into the woods and for about 6 miles is a winding tree lined path broken into two lanes much like a road would be. Being American you ride, rollerblade, skateboard, walk on the right hand side. The last two miles of the path is a giant loop that at the half way point in the 2 mile loop is a mile marker. I have in the past ridden to the loop and pedaled my way around the loop over and over again with each loop I try to break my own time record. The loop section is typically desolate because for some one to walk the loop they would have to walk the 6 miles through the woods to get to it. So on a standard day you will typically just see cyclists out there.
So I ride the 6 out to the loop, set the timer and start my own personal Crit against myself. I hammer past the mile mark check the timer and see I am heading for a personal best. A cyclist is riding toward me in the opposite direction and we pass each other (no wave) I finish out the first lap with good time and reset the clock for lap 2. I am just passed the mile marker again and I see the same cyclist, fancy bike, matching kit, matching helmet etc. I am about 20 feet from him and it looks like he is yelling something….his mouth is moving he is making hand gestures…I cant hear him over top the headphone music so I ignore him and pedal on. Second lap….better than the first, reset the clock and head for lap 3. Approaching the mile marker I can see him in the distance, out of the saddle, bike rocking back and forth, mouth open…again he is looking at me and saying stuff. Again I ignore and pedal on. Lap 3 slightly slower than lap 2 I reset for another lap. Again I pass the mile marker and again serious cycle dude is saying stuff…this goes on for 8 laps. Each lap we meet each other near the mile marker and each lap he is trying to get me to listen to him. Finally I get off the bike and sit on a bench on the side of the path, curiosity has finally gotten the better of me so I am going to get to the bottom of this one sided conversation once and for all. After a few minutes I see the other guy riding toward me and I wave him to a stop. This is the conversation:
Me: Just what the hell are you saying to me every time we pass each other?
Him: I was giving you the score!
Me: The Score?
Him: Yeah you took 6 of the laps and I took 2 of them
Me: We were racing?
Him: I though we were?
Me: (blank expression)
Him: Yeah I figured you were racing me to the mile marker each time?
Me: Actually I was just racing myself for time.
Him: (blank expression)
Me: I mean if you want to race I suppose we could?
Him: I think we have time for one more before we lose the sun.
Me: Ok, bench is the finish line.
We arrange ourselves heading in separate directions and he yells Ready, Set GOOOOO! And we tear off down the path heading in different directions, 2 miles later I pass the bench about 40 feet before he does. We decide if we want to escape the woods before absolute darken we had better get a move on toward the entrance. We ride and have a lighthearted conversation on the 6 mile ride back. I peel off toward my car and he says “I will be here on Tuesday if you want to have another race.”
To many, oh so many, throngs of people this time of year comes and goes the candy from Halloween transitions into the pies and gluttony of Thanksgiving which gently slides into the season of cookies and the overly sugarized treats of Christmas. For a guy like me it means a solid three months of non stop temptations, where I want to grab a handful of cookies and cram them into my open mouth only to be followed by another handful and another and more yet. I have never encountered a “Holiday” season while trying to lose weight because for my entire adult life the Holidays meant delectable confections washed down with gallons of adult barley based libations and pack after pack of cigarettes acting as a chaser. This whole thought stream is based on my last on duty shift at the fire house, temptations were in full force, the full platter of brownies, the cookie that was as big as a refrigerator, and the chain smoking. I was detailed to a station where everyone but me is a self appointed chain smoker they take pride in that fact, much like I did when I smoked, I once held high honors with the smokers because I could easily smoke 2 packs a day….those foolish, foolish days. So I did what I thought was necessary, I sequestered myself in a room where I read and listened to Ska on my Ipod. I had to subject myself to introverted internment and sensory deprivation. I couldn’t be in the same room as the treats; I couldn’t be near the smokers for if I had the months upon months of trying to get my lungs to the point they are now would be over. If I was in the same room as the chocolate filled garbage the weight I have been obsessively trying to lose would quickly be reflected in the red needle on the scale as it rose into the higher and higher digits. On top of all of this I am literally petrified about what I am going to eat at those many large family gatherings while everyone plows through plate after plate of turkey and ham….I wonder if I can doctor up a hunk of Tofu to taste like turkey…or ham?
In other Holiday news: I have been relentless in my hints of a Kindle recommending that is what my wife should get me for Christmas. They aren’t even subtle hints either, someone I know (not admitting it was actually me) has changed her computer home page and desktop picture to the Kindle homepage and a Kindle picture…over the top? I don’t really think so. I have also tried to explain it will help me be a better human, whether or not there is scientific evidence to support such claims is really not important.
I have grown increasingly pissed off at my bike lighting situation. I have ghetto rigged an auxiliary light to the handle bar that I stole off of my rock climbing helmet. Now for most normal people, admittedly I am far from normal, night time ridding is not an issue because normal people usually don’t do it. Since we have already established my departure from normative behavior I will tell you, as I have said in many a post prior that the majority of my riding is done in the darkness, either late at night or really early in the morning. Herein lies the issue and it’s not a new one, I simply find myself getting angrier and angrier by the day in response to it. I am being completely honest when I say I can see about 5 feet in front of my handlebars when I am riding…and that is with both of the lights a burning with new batteries.
I am sure there is a mathematical equation to figure out the danger factor of speed+distance+blindness-reaction time+wild animals+potholes= the distance you will fly when you hit let’s say for instance…I dunno….A FREAKING POSSUM! I can attest you will fly over your handlebars, and slide to a stop approximately 15 feet from where the aforementioned collision occurred. Sure sure after you stand up and take inventory of all of your appendages and find there is nothing wrong its ok to laugh until you realize it could have been much worse, then you just get pissy. What I need is recommendations for a good light, not a decent light, not a quasi ok light I need a freaking good light. One that can illuminate more than 5 feet in front of my bike, I’m thinking if I could see about 20 feet in front of me I could avoid what is now a running joke of Gene –vs- Wildlife or Gene –vs- Man Swallowing Potholes. So let me hear it folks what’s lighting your path and I want honest to God first hand experience not hearsay of what your dog walkers second cousins brothers mothers uncle told you. Pretty please?
P.S. Wear your helmets, you never know when you will hit a possum, or a goose, or have a close call with a skunk and end up bouncing and flopping upon the roadway.
The weapons needed to help a family of 4 combat H1N1
Overall I give the Swine Flu or H1N1 a D- as far as pandemics go. I have felt worse the morning after a hard night drinking. For all of the hype this thing got it failed to deliver the bed ridden for days sucker punch. In fact the only way we are hurting right now (because all 4 of us have it) is the medication side effects. All of our stomachs are killing us all crampy and gross feeling. I will now give the mass media an F- for the hype.
So what does one do when he is forced to stay in the house for days on end? Well he beaches his craft on the shore and burns his boat….allow me to explain. I have had a closet full of clothes, clothes that are much too big for me now. Shirts that I swim inside of, pants that are a full 10 sizes too large, and belts that when tightened still are much too large. Why did I keep this closet full of stuff? Fearing I would eventually return to my fat ass self one day, that’s why. I made a decision that I am no longer on a vegan diet, I decided I am living a vegan lifestyle. Diets are the things you are on for a few months, you lose a little weight and then you inevitably fall off the wagon and gain it all back. I have decided I am not going to be “that guy”. I sorted through it all and made huge 3 foot tall piles on my bed, packed it into garbage bags and gave them all away….therefore I have landed on a new shore and set fire to my boat, never shall I return to that land again, so help me God.
There is enough fabric here to make a new sails for a very large boat.
I have been cleared to ride tomorrow and I have also been cleared to go back to work. I went and visited my Doctor this morning whom I have not seen for a few months and he again was all smiles when it came time for the weigh in. He is sending me for blood work on Friday so I can see where my once record shattering high cholesterol is these days.
Just when I think this month could not get any worse….I end up at the doctors office. My daughter has been coughing and hacking for a couple of days, nothing out of the ordinary for this time of year really. I have also been coughing and hacking, I attributed mine to riding in 30 degree severely rainy weather. Yesterday I bugged out of the office early trying to capture the last remaining days of moderate temperatures. While riding I noticed I was unusually short of breath on a few sections…I blew it off. I also noticed that my back hurt, not my lower back, not my upper back but across the entire middle of my back. Knowing what I know about human anatomy I know this particular section of my back is where the lower lobes of my lungs reside. It got downright painful check that it became unbearable to the point I cut the ride short. I head back home, stand a few minutes outside stretching my back out and I feel like all is good and balanced in the universe again….so I blow it off. I shower and the hot water and steam in the bathroom cause me a coughing fit so severe I actually see stars…I blow it off. I get dressed and sit on the couch reading my mail when I get a text message from my wife telling me she is taking the daughter to the doctor that she is a mess of sickness.
A short while later wife walks in the door with a large bag of medications from the pharmacy…the diagnosis….H1N1 aka Swine Flu. This has been verified by lab testing as the real deal. This I do not blow off. My wife tells me I need to get my posterior in the doctor ASAP. I oblige and as soon as I tell the receptionist that my kid was just confirmed to have Swine Flu and run down my symptoms I am rushed past the waiting room into an exam room. The take vitals, they listen to my lungs they swab my nose to run the test. 30 minutes later I become a statistic in a Pandemic when I am diagnosed with H1N1 as well, as an added bonus I also have Pneumonia which when left untreated is what H1N1 apparently turns in to. This would explain my back hurting and the coughing. I am now sitting at home with a bag full of prescriptions with a direct physician order not to ride my bike or go out in the general public for at least 4 days. I am absolutely no good at being cooped up in the house for days on end. The fact that I have been riding while I had the Swine Flu either makes me incredibly awesome or incredibly stupid….don’t respond to that.
My body is in Michigan but my heart and mind are in Austin. Not for the reason you think, I am well aware that the Austin Livestrong Challenge just happened. That was the furthest thing from my mind I got the word just before the start of the weekend that a lifelong friend (who lives in Austin) sadly lost his 1 month old baby. Just when I thought my heart could not hurt anymore this month. I now know what it feels like to have your heart dug out of your chest with a shovel. I was in a funk all weekend and was just barely functioning. Last night I decided to go out for a ride after my wife mentioned I may feel better after. The ride was just so-so giving yet another argument to the fact I can’t ride when the sun is out.
I think I have mentioned it here before, how I live within riding distance to one of Michigan’s highest rated Mountain Biking trails. It’s around 12 miles long and as far as the board flat state of Michigan goes it actually has a few hills. Its about 5 miles away from me, and one of the roads I have on one of my routes passes the start of the trail. On certain days I feel saucy and by saucy I mean I dive off of the road and hit the trail. Now since I ride at odd hours I am usually about 25 miles into my ride when it is actually bright enough to ride the trail safely. Yesterday, I felt saucy and hit the trail hell bent on setting fire to the course with massive speed and veracity. I think in all of the times I have rode this trail I have seen one person, and that person was walking on the trail not riding. I was about 6 miles into it when I saw ahead of me another rider and I was gaining fast. I caught up and passed (no I didn’t wave) and kept pedaling hard. I heard him yell “Hey Mitchell…watch out….there is some psycho on a road bike about to ride up your ass!” After a turn I passed Mitchell as well and kept on getting it. I am pretty sure I am not supposed to be using a Cyclo-Cross bike on hardcore Mountain Bike Trails. Oh well.
So after nearly 3 weeks of rides that bordered on an absolute abomination I finally had a good one. What changed you ask? I don’t really know I can’t put my finger on it except one small detail…the time of day I rode. For the last three weeks I have tried to stave off frostbite by riding in the afternoon when the air temps reach a respectable Michigan autumn day level. Well, there is the fact I don’t want my nose and fingers to fall off and the fact that is the only time I could ride given my work schedule and the growing list of meetings and appointments with Veterans Affairs, General Motors etc still trying to wrangle in my dads “stuff”. Yesterday was different, I had the opportunity to enjoy mild temperatures and the fact I didn’t need to be anywhere first thing in the morning so I went back to my old routine of getting up at 5am and hitting the road by 5:15. I noticed it right away, those gears I have not used in 3 weeks, the fast pace, the steady heart rate…weird. Climbs came and went…. no issue. Even the demonic hell bound train of a sprint I have to do across a certain bridge just so I don’t become an overweight hood ornament on some “texting while driving” driver’s car…my legs never burned. Does it really make that big of a difference when I ride? I didn’t think so before, but now I am left un-convinced. What about you guys have you ever noticed a change in performance depending on when you rode? Tell a fat guy your thoughts.
With all that has happened in the past two weeks I neglected to talk about a happy occasion that occurred on October 15th. October 15th my wife and I celebrated our 15th Anniversary of wedded bliss. If you are running the math in your head let make it easy for you….yes we got married when we were 20.
We are in the middle of a warm streak here in the “Mitten” it was 60’ish yesterday, 60’ish today and is rumored to be in the 70’s tomorrow. I took advantage of yesterday by riding the Clinton River Trail to the Paint Creek Trail and not having to bundle up like an Eskimo was a nice change. Today is my first day back on duty since my dad died so I am struggling just to be here today. Tomorrow I am planning on a super evil long distance ride and will probably obsess all day today on where this super evil long distance ride will occur. I noticed something yesterday whilst riding….all of the other cyclists on these particular tails are antisocial buttholes. Two hours of riding crossing paths with countless other cyclists and nary a wave was seen. I don’t get it, I waved at the first dozen or so that I saw only to be skunked on a return gesture after that I became buttholish and didn’t wave anymore and neither did anyone else. Seems like I read on another blog a person noticing the same trend although I can’t remember where? Seriously I am a crappy rider but I can still muster to take one hand off the bars for a quick second. Jerks.
EDIT: CycleChef was the person that wrote about non wavers here
Let’s run down the conditions of Michigan cycling for the past week shall we:
Rain: Check
Wind: Check
Cold: Check
Mud: Check
More Rain: Check and Double Check (actually lets check that 7 times)
More Cold: Let’s go ahead and check that bad boy 7 times as well.
More Wind: Again let’s go ahead and check that 7 times as well.
It has been miserable in a good way for the past week. Bone chilling cold, driving rain, toes and ears frozen…and I just can’t get enough. When ever I think of misery I think back to my Fire Academy days in North Carolina. We were doing PT out on the asphalt with the front edge of a Hurricane bearing down on us with wind and rain that was driving so hard it would sting your face. Didn’t matter we were going to crank out those thousands of pushups with the extra 40 pounds on our back from the SCBA’s . “This is not misery gentlemen!” Our instructor was a beast of a human who had a sick fascination with making us puke from physical overexertion. “Misery is being trapped in a burning basement and not having the physical fortitude to get your own sorry backsides out of it!” I tend to disagree, I have been in a burning basement with the roof collapsing on my head and comparatively speaking I would take that over pushing asphalt for hours on end in the middle of a hurricane….that’s just me though.
So it has been miserable, not quite as miserable as a thousand or so pushups or a burning house but misery takes so many forms. I don’t mind the cold so much as I mind summer heat. I add a few more layers on and hit the road. The main problem has been my feet. I have some nice thermal riding pants, the wool jersey, the thermal base layers….its the feet I cant get a handle on. I switched from my highly ventilated road shoes to my MTB shoes that have a bit more insulation but after a fair distance the same numbness sets in. I saw some insulated riding shoes that boast their ability to repel the wet and cold of rides…time to visit Jeff and see what we can do to alleviate the problem.
If you really knew me and I am not talking about knowing me by reading this site you would know I am a pretty nice guy….until I am not a nice guy. When do I become a not so nice guy you ask? Depends, but the transition from nice to not so nice takes about 3 nano-seconds. Now the physical changes that happen when I turn into not so nice guy are negligible the psychological and behavior changes is what will typically get me into trouble. Let’s say for instance you have a pair of glasses that are broken and lets assume for just a moment that you have been trying in vain to get the aforementioned glasses repaired only to stumble across a few roadblocks. Then let’s assume that some innocent person happens upon the scene of this giant CHiPs like car wreck of a debacle and tries to cool you down. What does not so nice Gene do to that person? Well, not so nice Gene is…um…not so nice. I rant and rave and complain and then use a quasi-popular internet blog to rag him even more. Ok quasi popular is stretching it….whatever lets not mince words here.
Somehow this guy whose name is Shaun sees through the madness and arranges for me to get a whole new pair of glasses. It didn’t stop there, that honestly would have been enough but he went further. He e-mailed me and said this:” I have actually been keeping up on your blog and I am sorry to hear of your recent loss. I wish you the best and understand how hard of a time this can be. Please accept my sincere condolences and best wishes in this hard time.”
Now you need to understand something, when I told Shaun about my blog it was in the context of absolute anger and trying to bite back at him and Oakley. Would I have followed my blog if I were him, certainly not!
So I e-mail him back and tell him I have the glasses and I appreciate them and he drops this one on me: “…..keep riding and I will keep reading the blog. Have a good one man.”
Shaun, I am a Vegan but I will take my crow medium well please.
When I was waiting for Jeff to throw the finishing touches on the Tri-cross I noticed an Oakland County Trail map sitting on his counter, actually there was a stack of them. I snatched one up with the hopes of finding new and exciting places to ride. Unfortunately the map was only of the County “Rails to Trails” projects, perhaps unfortunately is the wrong word to use. I have been knocking off these trails in earnest the last few days. Yesterday, I spent a few hours on the Clinton River Trail which snakes its way from Auburn Hills to downtown Rochester Hills the start of the trail quoted several mile markers which I was not really interested in. I set off and found a nice Autumn like envelope of trees that hug the trail as my tires crunched the fallen leaves. The trail crosses over I-75 and dumps you right into downtown Auburn Hills which is quite confusing to go back and forth from the trail to sidewalks then back to a trail again but I managed. Then came a long desolate straight flat shot into Rochester, a welcome treat. I tried to find that state of indescribable blankness in the ride but I couldn’t get there. My mind raced with thoughts of bank accounts, transferring retirement accounts into my mom’s name, medical bills, and the growing list of things that still need to be done to get all of my dad’s affairs in order.
Perhaps it was an unconscious decision to head to Rochester or perhaps there was some reason I needed to go I don’t know which. Some of my earliest memories of my mom and dad took place at Rochester Park. My brother and I playing on the swings and trying to cross the Clinton River by jumping from boulder to boulder while mom and dad watched from the banks. Inevitably one of us, or both, would fall into the lazy current soaking us from the waist down. It was no big deal, it simply meant a wet ride home. I saw the sign that welcomed me to Rochester and the trail skirts around the back of Downtown behind the Old Mill Brewery. I had forgotten that my dad was singing at a winter festival several years ago on a sub-zero freezing night. My wife and kids and I bundled up as best we could and stood in the absolutely horrid temperatures watching him and his group sing. It was his birthday. After they sang he found us in the crowd and told me he and some of the guys were headed to the Brewery for some dinner and some adult type beverages he asked if I wanted to tag along, he said he would drive me home. My wife and kids headed home, I headed to the Brewery with him. We laughed and raised many a pint and finally headed home. I continued to ride until the trail ended and I saw a sign that said there was another trail connection a few blocks away. I hit the street and I found myself inside Rochester Park and soon after that I was headed up the Paint Creek Trail which goes from Rochester to Lake Orion. Still vexed with thoughts of insurance claims, and bills I just continued on. I have strayed away from cycling as a weight loss tool to cycling as a form of therapy and stress relief. I used it as stress relief the whole time but now it’s just that and nothing else. If I shed a few pounds in the process…well that’s fine as well. The air was crisp at just a touch over 40 degrees but I was fine with it. I was alone for miles with no cars, no people, and no visible distractions. There are just good memories no bad ones, for that I am eternally thankful. If he and I had a problem it got hashed out quickly. All I am left with are the good ones, the laughing from the river bank as I sloshed from boulder to boulder soaked and dripping wet. Riding on the back of his bike with arms stretched out like an airplane probably annoying him half to death with calls of “Faster, go faster!”
I made it all the way to Orion and had to turn around and make it the 8 miles back to Rochester and then the 8 miles back to Auburn Hills. This is where I found the absolute blankness I had been looking for 16 miles of nothingness and it felt good.
Please let me thank all of the readers of 100 Pounds Ago for all of the thoughts, e-mails, phone calls, comments, prayers and support you guys have given me over the last week. It’s been overwhelming…there is no other way I can put it.
Just a quick notes to keep everyone up to date:
Oakleys:
I got a phone call about a week and a half ago from Oakley, I will be emailing the gentleman soon to see if I can actually use his name or at least his first name, anyway he asked for a copy of my recent prescription. I obtain it from the Optometrist and fax it to Oakley. Thursday I got a call from the place I usually purchase my Oakley eyewear and they had a new pair of Whiskers waiting for me at the store. The new glasses where a welcome distraction but that’s only the half of it. He sent me an e-mail a few days earlier asking if I had the glasses yet and then told me he had been keeping up with my blog and expressed condolences on the loss of my father. That meant a lot to me and I will be posting more on this very soon.
The Bike:
I have been back on the bike for a few rides since my dad’s funeral. Although I still feel like crap and I just don’t have it in my legs to do the distances I was doing I am able to eek out some good rides in the 25 to 30 mile range. The computer stays at home and I am just out to have a little fun and some distraction time. I rode from my house last night to a well known mountain bike trail at a State Park and rode the entire thing…what a freaking blast! Now some would shutter at the mere mention of mud or dirt covering their new bike I actually welcome it. It’s crazy that this bike handles so well on both the road and the trail. Since its hunting season in Michigan and the State Parks are almost the only places you can hunt in Southern Michigan I may have ruined more than a few hunters day….I really could care less.
The Cold:
Fall is in full swing in Michigan and has the temperatures to prove it. I tried to ride yesterday morning with an air temp of 30 degrees. It took about 1 mile of that to convince me to wait until later in the afternoon to ride. I need to get out and purchase some cold weather gear, particularly gloves and head gear. Body and legs were fine but when you have a shaved head and summer weight gloves…well you can see the problem right?
That’s all for now, again thanks for all of the kind words folks.
Yesterday was the funeral for my dad, a day I had always hoped I would never have to witness. It came too early…at 61 he was full of life. He retired last year after working 44 years for General Motors he did not greet retirement with long days spent lying around the house he met it with long rides on his motorcycle, spending time with his 3 grand kids and singing in his Barbershop Quartets. The funeral was a fitting tribute to a great man who was obviously loved by throngs of people. There was the memorial service where his Men’s Chorus sang his favorite songs including the Irish Parting Prayer….may the road rise to meet you…..may God hold you in his hand until we meet again…..it hurt. He was buried in the Great Lakes National Cemetery like the proud Soldier he was. Full Military Honors were bestowed on him in recognition for his faithful service to his country in Viet Nam and his years spent in the U.S. Army. A 21 gun salute, the bugler played the mournful “Taps” and the stoic Army Honor Guard carried his flag draped coffin into the pavilion overlooking the lake where they folded the flag and presented it to my mom. He was a hero, not for the way he died but for the way he lived. Kind, generous, proud, strong I could go on for days typing descriptive word after descriptive word for what he was.
My family has some tough times in our future trying to come up with a way to live our lives without him next to us. My brother and I have now have to step into his place caring for my mom who only 3 months ago had her last radiation treatment for breast cancer. He cared for her for the last year like he did 13 years ago when she had a horrid battle with Leukemia. He never wavered from the fight and now we have to try to summon the strength to do the same, he would expect that from the two of us because to him family was everything.
I went for a short ride the other day just to blow off some steam and try blank out my mind if even for just an hour. Somehow the ride left me in worse shape than I was when I left. Instead of just being sad I was exhausted and sad. Perhaps riding should have been put on hold for a while but I longed for that blankness that riding provides me. That day we were supposed to meet with the Pastor who was going to give the Eulogy at the funeral. I tried again the next morning to get to the point where I didn’t have to think for a few hours…I made it to 8 miles before I felt like I was going to collapse. I was shaking and exhausted, like someone had drained every ounce of energy I had. I had doubts whether or not I could actually make it home. I contemplated calling my wife to come get me but it was 5am and she was sleeping. I think I averaged about 6 miles per hour on the return home. I hung the bike back on the hooks in the garage and have not even glanced in that direction for days. I will post when I can, when there is something to report, I just don’t know when that will be. Somehow my exhausted brain is telling my body it to is exhausted.
