Insert Witty Creative Blog Title Here

2009-06-29T21:19:00.010-05:00

Yoiks! It’s been almost a month! Things have been busy around here since the weather finally broke. Here’s a little taste of what we have been up to…

Son#2's first taste of fast and shiny; yeah, he was dig'n it.

Bonding with Dad

It is a big city...

But Son#1 doesn't seem too concerned.

In other news, Son#1 and I survived another trip down to St. Louis to see Uncle Steve, there will be some pictures from that expedition as soon as I find that flash drive. There has not been a whole lot going on in the biking scene lately, between the weather and family commitments I have only been able to get 60-100 miles a week, if I am lucky,but that is fixing to change. I am doing a ride down in St. Louis, a couple of local centuries, possibly a ride or two in the Michighan/Indiana area, and the Muddy Buddy Race, The miles are gonna start piling up real quick here in the next few weeks.

Luke 15:11-32

2009-06-03T21:55:00.002-05:00

I once was lost, but now I am found, praise the lord hallelujah and all that stuff. Actually, ask anybody who has known me, or anybody who has spent more than 7 consecutive minutes with me, and they will tell you I have been lost more than once. And oh yeah, don't worry I am not getting all religious on you either, but truth be told, I have been lost more than usual the past few weeks, both on the road and off.

A few weeks ago The Warden started spouting off about "me time" and "compromises" and some whacked out "level and fair exchange among equals" new age mambajamba that would have given Steve and Joel hives. She had to speak up, so I could hear her over the screaming, red headed barnacle that has latched on to her leg. That's why I never stop moving when I am home. Anyway, it all just really confused the hell out of me, with all those syllables and propaganda and stuff. Plus she is kind of cute, and I get distracted easily; she saw me hesitate and went in for the kill and batted her eyes at me. Next thing you know, I can only come home from work and fly out the door on my bike on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. WTF? No big deal you suppose. A little quality time with the boys is in order, I did spawn them after all, but have you checked the weather here lately? We are in line for a record spring in the precipitation department. It has all fallen on a Monday, Wednesday, Friday. She has made good use of her time out though; she snagged a rough 24 miles on Saturday. Pretty sweet!

Then today I got lost on the road. Or at least I thought I was. It turns out I was exactly where I was supposed to be. The group ride headed out North east tonight. I almost never go that way. Between dodging potholes and trying not to lose the wheel in front of me I couldn't really pay attention to land marks and stuff like that. This is all complicated by the fact that even when I do pay attention to landmarks, I tend to forget them. Have I mentioned I am easily distracted? That is just a complication; the whole situation was exacerbated even more by the fact that I have this weird kink in my neck and shoulder that makes it somewhat painful to turn to the left. So, after I got dropped around mile six, I was just going off what I had heard being tossed around by the group. I stuck to those roads, but on the way back, I was on the opposite side of the road, and none of the route back looked even vaguely familiar. Actually, it all looked really familiar. Farm, gravel road….farm gravel road…rusted barbwire…gravel road…farm. I need GPS.

Inevitable

2009-05-13T21:32:00.008-05:00

I always figured as long as I had my cell phone, the whole irony and luck of the Irish thing would save me from flats. That was so not happening tonight, and thus I had to make the Call Of Shame, in the rain. And thunder. The sag wagon showed up promptly with a Warden delightfully free of any “I told you so” vibe, Son#2 happy to be out, and Son#1 totally stoked to be part of the rescue mission to save Dad from his own stupidity. “Dad, you know what you need? One of those bags, and you can put a spare tube in there, and a pump, and then you can fix it yourself.” I knew this would happen, that someday Son#1 would prove himself to be a smarter, better man than his father, but I was kind of hoping this would occur when I had a few more gray hairs, maybe even a grand kid or something, or at least till after he hit puberty. In my defense, I do have one of those bags, and all of those tools, but they have been scattered to all points of the compass, in two or three different piles. He said it with such sincerity, with such and obvious desire to help it made my heart swell with more than a little pride. Of course, none of this helped suppress the urge to reach into the back seat, grab his favorite spider man toy, and huck it out the window of our moving minivan. Next time I flat, I think I’ll call Patty, or at least see if the Warden can’t leave ~~Knucklehead#1~~Son#1 with the neighbor or something.

That’s us, back in the day, before he was smarter than me, or at least blissfully quiet about it.

Crystal

2009-04-30T21:09:00.005-05:00

Yeah, I know, I have already used this picture of my wife, but this is the only one I have in digital format that she’ll let me post, and doesn’t require an age verification feature be added to this blog.

Anyway, Friday marks the day that 15 years ago, that Chas batted her big green eyes at me and used her cunning womanly ways to take advantage of my naive innocence, tricking me into marrying her. It is actually kind of ironic in way, seeing as if you were there 15 years ago when we said our vows, you would have thought it was her fifteenth birthday. Yes, she did look that young. I’d scan a picture, but the scanner is in Son#1’s bedroom, and I just tucked him in for the night.

A few interesting tidbits about our history:

-We met when she moved next door to me. She was 15, I was 17.

-We never dated. We each had our own little “almost” moments, but the closest we ever got to dating was a slow dance at Prom.

-I was persistent. I asked her to marry me more than once. I may or may not have been slightly intoxicated at the time. She finally said yes one night.

-I was in Hawaii when we got engaged, and back out to sea on my submarine about 36 hours later. Two months later l touched down at O’hare airport. Less than 48 hours we were married, in my parents living room.

-I’m guessing there about 100 people at our wedding. Of that hundred or so people, I’m guessing at maybe 70 didn’t give us more than 2 years. At least another 60 thought she was pregnant. They weren’t about to let math or human reproductive physiology interfere with their judgment. I’ve taken college algebra more times that I care to admit, so I can’t really blame them I suppose.

Ok, back to the bikes. I’ve been trying to mix it up a little more this year, running, biking, playing with the kids and all that. I won’t be winning any sprints to the next sign, but I am back down to 195, been stuck there well over a week actually. It’s almost May and Son#1 still recognizes me, and The Warden doesn’t roll her eyes every time I say “ride” –yet.

Son#1 pretty much out grew his first bike last fall, so we had been shopping around down in the BMX basement at the LBS. We’d would just take the occasional Saturday morning to escape from the house and I would let him hop on all the bikes he thought he would like. We finally found one he did like, and that he could straddle. A week later I went and in and paid for it, and had Tobey go hide it in their storage area. Then I took Son#1 to the shop, and acted all surprised that it had been sold. He was pretty tore up. Then Easter Sunday rolled around…

Just checking in...

2009-04-07T21:09:00.009-05:00

It has been brought to my attention that I have not updated in a while. Sorry folks, but when it comes to rolling around on the floor for a bit with this guy

or fielding questions for an hour or two from this guy

while we cruise the local bike paths looking for puddles to ride through, something has to give. Until I can free up some time it is the blog that is getting pushed aside. Hopefully the weather will break soon, and I’ll score about an extra hour and a half a day not looking for full fingered gloves and 3 biking jerseys to layer up for the wind.

I haven’t been slacking though, I’ve been getting some saddle time. As of this morning I now weigh in at 202.4 burritos.

Today’s soul sucking 20+mph wind was brought to you from the fine folks of Dubuque, IA, you could almost smell the meat packing plant. Or was one of my layers festering? Either way, the wind, straight out of the west, sucked. I ate too much, too soon after my ride, or I rode too hard, I am going so sign off and crawl upstairs to my bed and try not to vomit. Later folks.

Oh yeah, what's the word Eric?

Stupid Weather

2009-03-24T19:30:00.003-05:00

I was hoping to squeeze in a 20-30 miler between severe weather watches tonight, but alas it wasn't meant to be. As it turns out fenders are more for protecting you from the rain after it has hit the ground and pooled already. They really don't do much to ease the stuff approaching you at about 30 mph, from the left, falling parallel to the ground. I have water in my ear. After I got blinded for the third time by the horizontal rain and blown into the curb, I decided to tuck my tail and head home. It was the longest 150 yards I had ever ridden. Oh well. The day wasn't a total loss though; my feet are still throbbing from my lunchtime run.

On other, non-weather related fronts, I lost my bid for son of the year today. Well technically I guess I lost on it Sunday, when I failed to even call my mom to wish her a Happy Birthday. It's a good thing I'm still her little baby boy, and so damned cute, or I might be in trouble. My poor older sister, she actually has to do stuff like send cards, and call occasionally, not this charmer.

I did actually get on the scale this morning as promised. 209.2 Burrito's.

Set the Burrito Watch

2009-03-23T20:42:00.001-05:00

Ok people, it's time to own up. It's been a long time, and way too much of not much has gone on since I last posted, so I'll just touch on a few of the highlights.

I got sick. Yeah I know big surprise. I caught a cold just after Thanksgiving and it hung on with the tenacity I can only be jealous of. There was a brief period of relatively good health there in early January, but it was all too fleeting.
I got injured. Right about the time I started feeling better I went snowboarding with Craig. It was fun, but I biffed a few times, hard! At one point I was worried I had broken my tail bone, which may or may not have been the second time that happened. Ironically, Craig was watching both times, and both times involved H20 related recreation activities and significant amounts of gravity.
I was wounded. I had noticed a bump on the bottom of my foot. It eventually started getting painful. I kept meaning to go to the doctor to get it looked at, but there were rides I didn't want to miss, and then there were races I didn't want to miss, and then there were more rides I didn't want to miss. Then there was the Holidays, and blah…blah…blah. So, about 18 months after it first started hurting I got it taken care of. I thought it was Plantar's Wart, but it turns out it was something else, something with some weird technical sounding Latin name that I forgot as soon as I heard the words benign and non-cancerous. Three stitches and a confirmed theory about a painful tolerance to local anesthetics, I hobbled out the door thinking the original pain was maybe not as bad or urgent as I thought it was.
I indulged. I actually did pretty good over the Holidays. I think I only gained like 3 or 4 pounds from November till early January. About mid January though I got fed up with being sick all the time and just caved. I have a hard time dieting if I am not exercising, and I have a hard time doing either if I am sick. I mean what is the point of all that stoic "my body is temple" crap if you're just gonna get sick anyway? Of course, downing your Codeine with five shots of Jack Daniels doesn't exactly facilitate intelligent and sound food choices.

So anyway, I think it is long past due to resume the burrito watch. In keeping with tradition I shall weigh in tomorrow and start reporting progress or the lack there of on a regular basis. I am guessing I will come in around the 210-212 burritos range, almost up a full 20 from my last report. Thus end my dreams of starting a bike season anywhere close to my goal weight. Oh well, at least I'm not 70 lbs overweight like I was this time last year.

Hold on; let me put that lung back INSIDE my chest cavity…

2009-02-05T21:14:00.002-06:00

I'm gonna paint that bike white and start calling it the iHurt.

I've been off the bike now for about a month trying to fight this cold I caught sometime back in oh, I don't know frick'n July. Ok, so maybe it was in November, but either way, I have about 3 healthy weeks since Thanksgiving. I put off going to the doctor as long as I could, because last time I went to the doctor for a cold I found out my liver was fat. What's next, a kidney, an obese pancreas? I'd rather not know. The Warden finally got tired of my whining, and Son#1 started complaining about me being sick and not being any fun, so I sucked it up and went in for a consult from modern medical science. End of story, he put me on enough antibiotics for two or three horses and I'm feeling better.

So I threw a leg over the top tube last night, and then had to get back off and go find my gloves, and then I had to get back off and go find the tire pump, and then my heart rate monitor, and then my…well you see the pattern. Steve would have punched me had he been there. What was supposed to be a quick trip down to the basement for a 27 minute sprint/power interval turned out to be a 50 minute excursion that involved a whole lot more stair climbing than I imagine the Spinerval people had intended. I was almost late getting Son#1 to wrestling practice. I spent the whole 4 mile drive to the school wiping the fog of the inside of my windshield and praying I wouldn't have to pull over and vomit.

So tonight I tried the time trial/anaerobic threshold interval. Out of 8 sets of 90 seconds on 90 seconds off, I hit 180 BPM on 7 of them. On the last one (a 3 minute rep) I actually pegged out at 192 BPM. By the second set I was hitting 180 20-30 seconds into the rep, and holding it for a good 40 seconds to a minute. The whole cool down was spent in full on vomit suppression mode.

Intervals tomorrow? I don't think so. I'm not that mad at myself. I might go for a run though, we'll see. I'll do something, just not another interval. The Warden is being cool enough to let me go snowboarding with Craig on Sunday. I've never tried it before, but I imagine the ability to actually bend at the knee will come in handy. I'll let the self abuse begin again in earnest after that adventure.

The weather is supposed to turn this week. It's been a brutal winter here in the Midwest. It is actually going to be above freezing tomorrow. That is sunscreen weather around these parts lately. The Warden is downstairs washing my Speedo for mr as I write this. I'm going for a ride this weekend, on pavement even. There is a "Super Secret Sale" at the LBS this weekend. I'm supposed to go get a new helmet, because mine is decomposing in small chunks all over the Chicago Cross Cup race courses, but I am thinking fenders instead. The only thing more uncomfortable then a wet butt on a bike, is a cold, clammy, just above freezing wet butt on a bike.

In other news, on Valentine's Day I get to go in for a blood draw so the doctor can see if my liver is still fat or not. I think it was in March when all this first came to a head, and I've lost about 70 pounds since then, so I'm pretty darn curious.

Crunchy Or Smooth?

2009-01-19T18:57:00.002-06:00

PEANUT BUTTER?!?!?!

OMG AND WTF? Have the terrorist finally won people?

Losing weight should be a non-issue from now on seeing as the FDA is systematically pulling two thirds of my caloric intake off the shelves. Oh sure, they say they are not focused on the jars yet, but these are the same people who brought us "duck & cover" and told us to duct tape our windows shut at the first whiff of anthrax. I'm guessing the stuff in the jars is more toxic than the sticky crap stuck on the microwave in the reactor control room at Cherynobyl. Salmonella. PFFFFFFFT!!! Whatever. Isn't that a bacteria? Isn't that what penicillin is for? Don't we radiate, sterilize, fumigate, and pasteurize all that crap anyway? If we can't even protect peanut butter I think it's time to head down to that shelter your not so crazy after all Grandfather built back in the late 50's, slide all 5 deadbolts home, and set the timer for January 20^th, 2058 or so.

102.2

2009-01-18T10:51:00.001-06:00

Has anybody checked out my wife's blog lately? She is totally kicking my ass in the mileage department. This is unacceptable. Once this fever breaks, things are gonna change. Maybe. Actually, the trainer is starting to make me want to vomit, so I've been trying to run. Yeah, it's not biking, but I figure it's at least maintaining cardio fitness, and it's keeping me from getting fat, so you know, any port in a storm, except those Canadian arctic air mass storms. I am not running in -22 degree weather. That is actual temperature mind you, not the wind chill. Call me a wuss, I don't care.

For those of you who haven't been keeping up with the posts I haven't been posting, I have been sick pretty much since Thanksgiving. There was a brief break of fairly decent health for two weeks in early January, but that ended yesterday morning when I woke up with a 102.2 fever.

Which numbers Joel, WHICH NUMBERS?!?!?!?!

2009-01-06T21:24:00.004-06:00

I was wondering how long I could go before Joel started demanding numbers. Well which numbers do you want, the number of times I ate at McDonalds, or the number of times I ate at Burger King? Perhaps the number of Double Stuffed Oreos I consumed? Do you want the number of times I thought about getting up early to work out, but the idea of kicking a leg over the trainer made me throw up a little in my mouth, so I hit snooze and slept in till almost noon?

I took almost 2 weeks off of work and didn't do much of anything. I slept in, I gorged, I did nothing unless I absolutely had to do it. So yeah, if you think I am getting back on the scale for another week or two, you're on crack. Call me weak, call it head in the hole denial, I don't care. My delicate male ego is not prepared to confront the scale at this point.

The good news is my backslide just reinforced a lot of the reasons I started trying to clean up my act in the first place. It didn't take long before everything came back, the wheezing, the insomnia, the heartburn, the feeling that if I did actually get up and exert myself I would sweat high fructose corn syrup. I woke up Monday morning with fresh resolve and went for a little run before work. Then i woke up again Tuesday morning with the same resolve, but legs that couldn't bend at the knee they were so stiff and sore. Everybody at work noticed too, i was back to shuffling around the office like I have arthritis, whining every time I had to get out of my chair.

The Warden is back on the wagon too. She has been hitting the stationary bike and tonight instituted Family Yoga Night. Yeah, I know, Family Yoga Night, WTF!?!?!?!?! Don't knock it till you try it. I had to lose like 5 lbs of sweat/residual high fructose corn syrup in one 30 minute session. The little guy loved it too. He is all about keeping the family team together, and it was a good change for him to have Mom and Dad exercising right there next to him instead of yelling from the sidelines. He dug it. He wants to get his own yoga mat and everything.

WARNING!!!! GRATUITOUS HOLIDAY PHOTO BELOW!

Sorry, tried to warn you. I don't normally lift photos off my wife's blog, but that one was too cute to pass up.

Hey There!

2008-12-22T20:02:00.002-06:00

OK, I gotta find something else to blog about, other than the fact that I am not really doing anything worth blogging about. I have been sick since Thanksgiving. I felt fine, I was just stuffy and a little tired, and the cold just kind of hung around in the background annoying the crap out of me. I thought I was over it, and then it rallied. I’m hoping to gain some ground and be back on top by Christmas.

Son#1 started wrestling again, so that means I pretty much have no life until March. Son#2 is learning to whistle. I hope I'm there when he learns to talk too, I want to see him whistle The Warden over to feed him.

The Warden has the same cold I do, and she has lost her voice. Can we say best Christmas present EVER?

Steady as she goes...

2008-12-09T20:02:00.002-06:00

Sorry folks, not a lot of blog worthy stuff going on right now, just more of the usual “life” getting in the way of biking, but in a cool way this time.

First up, the Battle Axe (AKA Warden’s mom) is in town. This is a lot better than it sounds actually. First of all, since we flew her up here, it means I didn’t have to drive all the way down to Florida with a screaming 9 month old teething Critter. Second, with her here to distract the Warden, I’ve been getting away with all kinds of crap I don’t want to disclose until after she leaves.

Second up, Steve came up to for Son#1’s Birthday. Despite some crappy weather a good time was had by all. Steve was introduced to the ultimate culinary debauchery that is the Warden’s Ice Cream Cake, and reunited with the joys of Wayne’s Pizza. I've been eating this stuff since I popped my first tooth. When my Dad first moved to Arlington Heights, Illinois from Sapulpa, Oklahoma he lived a small apartment directly above a bar, and right across the street from Wayne’s Pizza. This was before marriage and kids and all that stuff, so it was just him, a bar and some pizza. Some forty odd years later, you can still see the gratitude beaming in his eyes when he gazes at my mother, gratitude for saving him from such a bleak, lonely existence. It is gratitude, I am telling you, straight up 100 percent pure gratitude.

So Son#1 got to chill with Uncle Steve, and I got to play some racquet ball. Well, I got run around the court trying not to break something until I dropped to the floor in a wheezing sweaty pile of middle aged chubbiness, Steve got to laugh a lot. Oh, there was some bowling in there too.

Holding steady at 194.2. Thank God we had to share that Ice Cream Cake with the rest of the family.

Almost forgot!

2008-12-02T20:44:00.003-06:00

194.2 pounds this morning, that is down almost 5 pounds since I made my Thanksgiving resolution. Pretty cool. Ok, I'm feeling like a day old can of flat root beer tonight, just figured I owed you all an update, I said I would weigh in today.

Acorns

2008-11-30T20:43:00.002-06:00

There seems to be a good deal of concern over the lack of acorns on the East coast this year particularly in the DC area

I have two theories on potential causes. The first involves a little conservation of energy in the face of competition. The trees realize that there is no way they can compete with the nuts already on the ground (especially in the DC area) so why expend the energy and waste valuable resources producing more. Of course trees are not sentient beings, so that is just nonsense. With enough booze and the right person flying wingman, I could probably have fun with that theory in a bar though. I once convinced The Warden we had cable TV and phone service on the submarine.

The second theory involves a squirrel I saw on yesterdays ride. I think he ate them all. He was fat, he was damn near the size of a beaver. Scale wise, if you equated him to a 5’11” man, he would have been pushing 400 burritos. I saw him sitting on the curb on 4rth Avenue, coming back up from Waterman, hunched over eating squirrel Bon Bons or something, maybe a smaller squirrel perhaps. I guess I spooked him because he made a dash for the nearest tree, about 5 feet away from him. I should say a move for the tree, the only dashing this squirrel did involved salt and French fries. It made three leaps, then stopped and leaned over and put his little squirrel hands on his knees and sat there panting and wheezing for a minute. I kind of felt sad for the fat little rodent; I’ve been there before myself. I swear I could hear him trying to talk himself out of vomiting.

So anyway, he gets his wind back, and crouches low for the last flying leap to the tree. Or at least I think he was crouching, he more or less just kind of spread out like really thick pancake batter on a skillet, then gave a little chirp of a squirrel grunt and went for it. You could see the fat quivering under his skin like melting Jello, and then as he approached the apex of his leap you could tell he hit zero G, like Tang bubbles floating gravity free in the space station, his body kind of snapped into a perfect Euclidean sphere, a giant glob of furry saturated fat with only the occasional undulation rippling through, marring its perfection, well that and the bushy tail too, not too many Euclidean spheres floating around with a tail I suppose.

So he smacks the tree with a splat, about 6 inches above the ground, and just stays there. Maybe all the effort of moving that amount of mass all of 4 and a half feet just exhausted it, but I don’t think he had the upper body strength to pull himself up any higher, and even if he could, I don’t think there was a branch in that tree strong enough to hold him.

I hope he enjoys his winter, because I’m pretty sure come spring, he is going to have some skinny fast pushy asshole Joel version of a squirrel asking him how he got so fat.

I think I was 197 when I weighed in this morning, so I am still on track for a net loss over Thanksgiving week, just not the dramatic amount I was hoping to lose. I slacked a little more on the calories, but I made up for that with extra mileage. Altogether I got over 90 miles in over the weekend, 16 of those in an official winter storm this afternoon. Snow, wind and rain, good times on a bike, let me tell you.

Happy Thanksgiving! Mind if I use your shower?

2008-11-27T20:22:00.001-06:00

A few weeks ago I kind of off offhandedly made plans to ride to our families Thanksgiving dinner. The only real problem was that I off offhandedly made the plans out loud, in front of people, real people, not just The Warden, who wouldn’t give me too much grief should I back out, but real people from work, and certain other family members, who despite their inability to pedal a bike for more than a mile,3 would give me a rash of shit till next Easter for wussing out of this ride.

I ended up leaving about two and half hours later than I had planned on, but I eventually got everything I thought I would need, and a whole bunch of crap I wouldn’t actually need crammed into my back pack, not to mention the things I knew I would actually need, and had prepared, but forgot to load on the bike, like my water bottles. Thank God for debit cards. I was about 5 miles out when I realized I forgot them, and turning back at that point would have pretty much put me past any acceptable window, and warm white meat doesn’t last long with my family.

My original plan was to take the Great Western bike path all the way east till it turned into the Illinois Prairie Path, which hits York Road about a mile from my aunt’s house. The path is paved in parts but is mostly crushed limestone, so I opted to take my single speed, it’s got slightly fatter tires and is more suited for that stuff than my road bike is. I had already put a bigger chain ring back on up front, and swapped out my cross tires, so it’s pretty much good to go for winter road riding.

The problem though is that it’s not really winter yet, it was sunny, and 46 degrees out. The path was kind of frozen at parts, but thawed in others, it was like riding with two flat tires. A pretty significant effort only yielded about 13 mph, and I needed to hold at least 15 mph most of the trip or I was going to be eating cold & clammy dark meat for certain. After about 2 or 3 miles of that crap I hopped onto route 64. A little louder, and not quite as scenic, but I could hold about 20 mph easy enough.

I was surprised by how good the ride went. I held 20 mph most of the time, on a single speed, by myself with nobody to draft. Joel would be proud. I was really starting to feel it by mile 35, and by mile 45 I was ready to be done. The last 15 miles took me through some pretty dense strip mall territory, and the stopping and starting all the time really took its toll. I ended up riding 50.1 miles. It took me 2:45 minutes and according to the computer I averaged 18.2 mph. Not too shabby for a single speed. That would have killed me back in May.

Just An Observation

2008-11-25T21:48:00.004-06:00

Weight: 197.4
Delta M: -1.6

So I was at the shop today and got a wild hair up my ass and threw my bike up on the scale-21 lbs. Now that is hardly anorexic for a bike, but it isn’t that heavy for an entry level cross bike either. For some reason, I was thinking the bike was heavier, like another 5 lbs heavier, which would put it in Clydesdale status, just like its rider. I’ve been operating under the premise that if I could shave 10 lbs off my bike next season, and 30 lbs off my ass, I might finish in the front half of the field once in a while next season.

Like The Man says, It’s Not About the Bike. The bike is so not a factor, at least not for me, not yet. I always thought I knew that, but seeing that bike weigh in a good 5lbs lighter than I thought it would changed that a little bit. The wind has not been taken out of my sails, it just a shifted a little. It’s time to change tack, prepare to come about.

I'd Like To Thank the Acadmey...

2008-11-24T21:18:00.002-06:00

Now that I am 95% percent sure I have ridden my last race of the season I think some thanks are in order.

First up, Joel. If I thought for one second that he would ever shut up if I wussed out of that first Dekalb race, I wouldn’t have even really considered signing up. Of course after that it became more of a question of how many more of these races will the Warden let me get away with. I’m not sure if he pressured me into it out of some sick fascination out of seeing me twitch and cry, or if he knew I would have so much fun, either way I’m glad he did it.

After this season, I am half tempted to change the Warden’s name to Parole Officer. I kept expecting to hear “Ok, but this is the last one…” every time I asked mentioned the next race, but it never came. Rain or shine, warm or cold, she ran around the house all morning gathering gloves and hats and cowbells and herded us all into the minivan. You think it doesn’t get cooler than that? You are wrong. Just when I thought she was going to snap and tear into me and tell me to grow up and drop the whole Cutter routine she pipes up, “Can we get there early one of these races so we can watch the women race?” Oh, I don’t know about that Sweety, I suppose we could, if we really have to. I kid you not; she actually got us up early and herded us out into the cold to watch the women’s race. What did I do to deserve this? Of course, now that I think about it her willing, dare I say entusiastic participation may have had something to do with all the guys hanging around in lycra.

Oh yeah, Thanks to Mom, Jesse & David & brood, and to Mike and Jen for coming out to see us, it was great seeing you all.

Since I am 95% sure this was my last race of the season it is time to shift gears. I need to get the single speed set back up for road riding, and not only try not to get fat again this winter, but try and lose a little more weight. I’ve been stalled out in the 190’s for too long. So three days before Thanksgiving I am vowing to actually lose weight over the week. I am not saying it will be a huge number, but there will be weight loss I tell you. This morning the scale said 199 even, stupid steak tacos. Next Tuesday, that number will be smaller.

My 5th (and 6th) (and final, or I am at least 95% sure it’s my final) Real Live Race Report!

2008-11-23T20:16:00.006-06:00

Call it an early Black Friday special, tonight, and tonight only, we have a special, two for one race reports! Or you can just call me a lazy slacker with poor time management skills, either one works.

First up, Lansing. Lansing sucked some serious ass. I am not exaggerating, it was that bad. First of all, I just flat out did not like the course. It was flat, like Euclidian three points determine a plane flat. The courses they raced those funky day glow motorcycles on in the movie Tron had more hills.

My dislike of the course pales in comparison to my poor race prep and performance, both on the course, and the week leading up to it. The diet had been in kind of nonexistent state for about two weeks prior to that race. The week before I was at least training though, I kind of blew that too leading up to Lansing. I blew it so bad I tipped the scales at 203 the Monday following the race. There will be no more “No Mores”, I’ve learned my lesson on that. Oh yeah, did I mention I was up till about 3 AM the night before the race? I wasn’t drinking but still, I wasn’t exactly well rested, or well fed, I rushed through breakfast and skimped out on lunch.

If that wasn’t bad enough, I had like 70 psi in my tires, people were pointing at me and muttering stuff to each other behind covered mouths, then laughing knowingly. Ok, that may be a slight exaggeration, but it did come up in conversation with some of the series leaders, and some other old salty dogs, and it was agreed I was being a freak, so I let some air out of my tires. And by some I mean a crap ton, more like a cubic crap ton. I checked my rear tire after the race and it had about 32 psi, and it felt like it had more air than my front. I accidentally let all the air out when I went to check, it was cold and my hands were shaking. I can believe I didn’t roll a tire off the rim or pinch flat.

It was a perfect storm of suckitude. I can’t believe I didn’t come in last. I held on as best I could and finished 31st out of 35. One of the guys I beat gave up before the race started I think, one of them was considerably older than me, and one of the others looked like this may have been his first race. Kudos to that guy, I saw him at the finish, and no one can doubt he put everything he had into that race, he was hurting!

I wonder how much poor prep and performance affected my opinion of the course. Would it have sucked so much if I had not brought the knife to the gunfight?

One cool note though. Chas’s cousins Jesse and David packed their brood drove out from the South Bend area an hour and a half to meet us. I think I had the biggest cheering section there. We took the kids out to McDonalds after the race and fed them too much sugar and junk food and then wondered why they were being all spastic and stuff. Good times. It was great to see them.

Today was Woodstock. Man, that course was tough! They mixed it up really good, some tight stuff, some off camber stuff, more than a few good climbs, and some wicked fast decents as well. Loved it! I prepped a lot better for this race. Some pretty hardcore intervals, some running, a lot of stretching and core strength stuff during my lunch hour even. Oh yeah, did I mention Son# 1 started wrestling this week? I was squeezing all this in on top of getting him to three wrestling practices this week. Not for the faint of heart. Between all that and cleaning up my diet, I dropped a few pounds too and got back in the low 190’s.

So anyway, I ended up finishing 31st out of 38. My blood sugar is too low right now for math, but I think percentage wise that is my strongest finish this season. Judging from the way my legs feel right now I am going to be feeling it for a day or two. So worth it though.

Another thing, my friends Crazy Mike and Jen made it out to the race too. I wasn’t expecting them, seeing as I called right before the race and he had said they weren’t gonna make it. I was pretty shocked to come around the last technical section before the finish to hear Mike sounding off! It was great, The Warden and crew were there with them too, not at the finish line where I expected them. Son#1 was really whooping it up too, he usually heads for the park after the first lap. It was like rocket fuel I tell you. It was a great way to finish the season, Thanks guys.

I hope this works....

2008-11-13T19:27:00.005-06:00

Today is the Warden’s Birthday. Can we say “conjugal visit?”

Wahoo!!!!

Love you Babe, Happy Birthday!

My Fourth Real Live Actual Race Report!

2008-11-09T21:57:00.008-06:00

Ouch. That’s all I got to say about the Save Ferris race in Northbrook. Ouch.

OK, maybe I have a little more than that, but seriously, that course hurt, I was in full on vomit suppression mode by the time I finished lap two.

Everybody had been talking about the hill at St. Charles last week, and the course designers didn’t disappoint. It was a sled hill, the stairs pretty much forced a run up the face, and the remount was on a very slick off camber, which led into some really steep off camber switchbacks the rest of the way down the hill. No amount of hay they threw down at the turns seemed to help, but if you rode the banks right you could almost make it through without putting your foot down. Most everybody just slid sideways through it though. Coming out of that mess you straightened out onto a steep, slick downhill, which was of course off camber.

Actually, now that I think about it, I think the whole course was either uphill, or off camber, except for the parts that were uphill and off camber. M.C. Escher would have totally dug Northbrook this year.

Wait a second, there was a flat section, that’s where I biffed. I’m not sure what happened, I came off a paved trail, and hit a short grassy flat that set you up for a really slick wicked uphill slog. I was in vomit suppression mode at this point and just as the pavement was ending I was contemplating backing off the throttle a tad and recovering a little. Then I contemplated having to report to Joel that I came in last, not an attractive prospect, so I got on it again. The next thing I know I am picking myself and my bike up off the ground. I don’t what the hell happened. I hit hard enough to get the wind knocked out of me, and I’m a little stiff from it now, but all in all it was hardly Purple Heart worthy.

The Chicago Cuttin’ Crew was present and accounted for, making their presence known form a love seat they managed to set up in the middle of the course. They were in rare form with the megaphone this race. They even brought out a bugler this time. I’m not sure how competitive of a team they are, but they sure shine in the color commentary department. The best place to watch a race is wherever these guys are set up.

My own cheering section was truncated a little this time. My Mom got hung up at church, so her and Son#1 opted to stay in and get dinner ready for us after the race. The Warden and Critter braved the weather though.

If you look closely, you can see a baby tucked in there, that is Critter.

I'm trying to figure out why all the pictures of the warden and Critter came out OK, but all the pictures of me are either dark or blurry. Are you trying to tell me something Babe? It's probably just as well, who wants to see my pale sweaty ass trying not to puke in close up, well lit detail?

For those of you who don’t know, the North Western burbs of Chicago are where John Hughes made a good number of his most famous movies, like 16 Candles and Breakfast Club. Parts of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off were filmed in Northbrook, Illinois and the promoters used a line from the movie, “Save Ferris.” Actually I think it as more of a sight gag, I think it was written on a water tower in the movie. Another interesting note- I was actually in that movie. My junior high school marching band was in the parade scene. We are kind of a red blob you can see in the back ground as they pan out on the parade scene, but I was there, and had to sign a release and everything so they could use that footage.

So anyway, the race vitals –I came in 52^nd out of 55 racers. With all the rain and sleet we’ve had the course was pretty brutal. I think if I had another 2 or 3 teeth on my freewheel I would have been set. That was my first race in anything remotely resembling adverse weather, and I survived, I guess I’ll just have to be happy with that.

My Third Real Live Actual Race Report, and Happy Birthday to me!

2008-11-02T19:57:00.008-06:00

Sorry, no actual race pictures this time, the pictures I were actually in all came out blurry. This one of a tree came out pretty good though.I’d fire the photographer, but she also drives the sag wagon and watches the kids while I race. Plus me and her kind of have a thing going, and I can’t really afford the fallout of a sexual harassment in the workplace lawsuit right now. She is kind of cute too. I’m not sure if I was supposed to be in this one or not-I hope I was, or maybe the photographer has a thing for cross dressing Category 4B cyclocross racers. I’d feel better if he/she were a Cat 1 or 2 at least.

So anyway, this course was pretty brutal, quite a bit more climbing and much more technical then the other two races. The timing on the climbs sucked, but in a cool sadistic sort of way I suppose. Most of them were straight out of tight turns, you would practically stop the bike through the turn, straighten out your front tire, and start slogging up the climb. Nasty stuff, 3 hours later and my legs are still screaming.

Despite getting lapped, I am really kind of happy with my performance. I pushed it a lot harder this go around. I passed a few people and kept another pack in sight. I kept on the wheels of two faster riders most of the race. I found a spot about halfway through the course where I was faster than them on a really long stretch of climbs, but with their geared bikes they could catch me just after the start/finish on the flat sections. My plan was to get around them on the last lap because I knew it would hurt like hell, and I wouldn’t have much left to hold them off for an entire lap. I was all set to make the move, I was actually prepared to push it well past my vomit suppression capabilities and then I got lapped, race over. Bummer. I placed 47th out of 55 riders.

So for my Birthday today I got to ride till I almost puked, make Son#2 laugh a whole bunch this morning, hear my Son#1 cheer me on, and pick on my wife almost all day long. You can’t beat any of that with a stick.

Northbrook is next week, and everybody is talking about the brutal hill they have lined up. I hope it rains all week, and during the race to boot, so that way we are all running up it. After that there is a race in Lansing, but I have other plans that weekend, so that leaves only one more race on the 23rd, in Woodstock.

AGGKKKthOPPFFTTTGRKKPT!!!!!!!

2008-10-30T20:40:00.003-05:00

I don’t even know where to begin; it has been that kind of a couple of weeks. Busted my glasses, jacked up my feet running sprints, caught another cold, and the family urban assault vehicle broke down. Those are just a few of the highlights.

Between all the scrambling I haven’t been training so much, and I don’t even want to get into the diet issues. There have been no weigh ins lately. Every morning I cower in the corner of the room opposite from the scale whimpering in shame and fear, my excess mass positively quivering with weakness and lack of dicipline, until the Warden wakes up and bitch slaps me back into reality, throws clean clothes at me, and then makes me go to work.

Between trick or treating and other responsible adult type obligations I won’t be throwing a leg over the top tube till I’m lining up at the start/finish line in St. Charles. That should prove interesting. Please Lord, just don’t let me finish last, or if I DNF, please let there be a cool scar to back up the story I’ll fabricate regardless.

My Second Real Live Actual Race Report

2008-10-19T20:39:00.009-05:00

Okidoke, I didn’t get lapped and I didn’t come in last, so once again, mission accomplished. The course was awesome, there was a sand pit and a weird uphill then off camber hairpin and back up a hill combo that was fun to ride. Other than that the course was dry, the sun was out, and the wind was blowing, a great day for a race. Here's a shot of me before the race. That's my best steely eyed competitive look. Sorry, it's all I got.
I could have used another 2 teeth on my freewheel, or another 30 pounds off my ass, either or both would have come in really handy today. I made it a point to try and get up a little further up in the pack, and totally hammered it on the start. My reward, I got to trade some paint and rub elbows the whole first half of a lap. That extra effort cost me a bit though, and I spent the rest of lap one hurting pretty damn bad, to the point I was worried about finishing the race.By the time I finished up the first lap I recovered a little. I saw a few riders about 100 yards ahead of me and made up my mind to catch them. I did eventually catch them, and then the three of us managed to catch another group. So we spent the last half of lap two playing leap frog, which I thought was fun, and painful actually, but I suppose that is racing. Eventually two of the guys pulled away from me, and I pulled away from the rest. From that point on, I spent the rest of the race by myself.
I promised myself I would try harder this race, and I did. I’m a little disappointed with my placement, but not with my effort this time. I hung out at the finish line for a bit after I finished. I tried to stay on my feet but I had to sit down, and I was getting worried I was going to have to puke in front everybody. That would have been pretty pathectic, puking for 58th place, fourth from last in a field of 62. Hell, even my asthma flared up, that almost never happens anymore. I guess I just need to work on my conditioning. It’s kind of late to make any real improvements this season, but I can try anyway. Dropping a few more pounds would do some wonders for my thrust to weight ratio too.This last shot of me is after the race, as I am slowly coming out of the "Oh God, I don't want to puke in front of all these people " stage. Notice the distinct lack of steely eyed competitiveness. I'm smiling because I am already thinking about St. Charles on November 2nd.

This will have to do...

2008-10-16T22:00:00.002-05:00

Weight: 193.8

Delta M: -1

Just a quick run (40 minutes) and some more push-ups and sit-ups today. I’m still sore from that last round on Tuesday, so tomorrow should be interesting.

Carpentersville hangs low on the bent limb like an over ripe apple, just waiting to drop. Dekalb's flyer was so much cooler, but this joint has beer 'n' brats.

Meet the Crew Part 5...

2008-10-15T22:27:00.005-05:00

Weight: 194.8
Delta M: -1

This is my dog Kepler. I never had a dog before, so when I made up my mind to get one I of course wanted the baddest assed dog I could find, but one with a brain and not quite so much of a hair trigger, that meant a German Sheppard. Keeping my desired characteristics in mind, in retrospect it may have not been such a good idea to let the wife pick the pup out of the liter. She of course went for the first one that snuggled up to her. Lucky for me though, The Warden is almost as good at picking out dogs as she is at picking out husbands.

What I basically have is 115 pound version of Odie. He looks all mean and fierce but all he wants from life are some dog treats, somebody to throw his little Kong on a rope combo thingy, and for me to pet him every 38 seconds. When we first got him he kind of took to Chas those first few days and I got fiercely jealous, but who can blame him, she is kind of sweet and cuddly, that’s for sure. After a few days though he soon figured out I was all about finding something fun to do, and as a result, I can’t make a quick stop in the house without causing a Son#1, Kepler, Me pile up type collision.

He used to run like the wind, all day long. His vet, which he had a huge puppy crush on (I can’t blame him, she was kind of cute) couldn’t believe I fed him 8-10 cups of food a day and you could still see his ribs. He would run all the neighbor dogs into the ground, then go hiking with me, or swimming up at the spillway after class, or sometimes, OK a lot of times, during class. In the winter we would harness him up and he would pull Son#1 around on a sled. I had to make him stop when I noticed his paws were bleeding.

He isn’t anywhere near as smart as his namesake, and yes, i really did actually name him after Johnnes Kepler, I really am that much of a physics nerd. This may or may not have something to do with the concussion he received playing soccer. In the house. With me. He looked like he was going break right so I kicked left. The ball made solid contact with his head. He shook it off, but he was a bit wobbly on his feet the rest of the day. A few days later I was kicking the ball in the kitchen and called his name as I was opening the refrigerator door. He hit the door head first, full stride, digging for more, and knocked all the food off the door shelves, and dented the door. The Warden promptly banned indoor soccer shortly thereafter.

He is not quite as spry as he used to be, but then again who is? There is quite a bit of gray in his muzzle, and as it is starting to get cold, his hip dysplasia is starting to slow him down a bit and he walks like I do after I was trying to keep up with Aaron on a 40 miler. He is still up for a lap or two around the yard with Son#1 though, and I bet if I found another Wiggly Giggly ball he’d be up for some soccer.

I told him he was a good puppy tonight, and Son#1 promptly told me he was big enough to call a dog instead of a puppy. He definitely is, but I don’t wanna.

No ride this morning, but I walked at lunch, and did a pretty good time trial Spinerval after work, 7 sets at 90 seconds on 90 seconds off a couple of minutes rest, then a doozey of a 3 minute effort. I nailed it pretty hard and pretty much hit my max heart rate every interval. I am definitely going to be feeling that one tomorrow and Friday. Tomorrow is soccer practice, so I will be running again.

Forgive me Father for I have...

2008-10-14T20:38:00.002-05:00

Weight: 195.8
Delta M: -3.4
Mileag: Uhhh…
October Mileage: PFFFFFFFFFFT

I knew I could count on you Joel, the only real question was would Steve possibly chime in first?

Two summers ago, I managed to whittle myself from about 240 down to 180. Towards the end of August I started to fade. By Christmas I was up to 210 again, by spring 230. Joel was dropping subtle hints this whole time, little clues “Dude, you are getting fat again, like really fat, quit stuffing yourself and get back on the bike.” I paid him no heed. Then I knocked up the Warden again and put on another 30 lbs in sympathy weight (I am supportive like that) by the time Critter took his first real breath and started crying in the delivery room, on Valentine’s Day. He actually just stopped crying about 20 minutes ago. Don’t laugh, I am not kidding. Seriously, it’s a stressor. That pretty much brings us up to speed. Shortly after Critter was born I went to the doctor with a cold and was told to see a specialist about my high blood pressure. A few weeks later they were taking pictures of my liver and Insert Witty Creative Blog Title Here was born. Steve actually came up with the title by the way, I embellished it a little, but he deserves most of the credit.

I am not so worried about it this time around. For one thing, I began slacking that first time back in August. It’s October already and I am still chugging along. I have stumbled a few times this time around, but they were just stumbles. Two years ago I was just looking for any excuse I could find to quit. Before I was relying on an extremely strict diet, and biking. I have learned a little more about nutrition the past year, my diet is a little loser, I still limit the calories, but my diet is much more varied. Instead of biking only, I am trying to mix up the exercise a little. I am starting to run, and work on my core strength as well.

On top of all that, this CX thing has bitten pretty hard. It is hard to explain, I’ve only done one race, and I count myself lucky that I finished, and I know the next one I ride I have a pretty good chance of coming in last, but I want to get out there again. I want to see if I can finish further up the pack. I pushed it on that last race, I think I can push a little harder on the next. Maybe I can, maybe I can’t, but I am dying to get out there and try.

No real mileage to speak of today. I did the “Power/Sprint” Spinerval this morning, walked during lunch, and ran for about 35 minutes and did some push-ups and sit-ups while Son#1 was at the park after work.

Back to the basics

2008-10-13T20:51:00.005-05:00

Weight: 199.2
Delta M: +too much
Mileage: Up for debate
October Mileage: Anybody’s guess

OK, I’ve been slack’n, slack’n on the blog, slack’n on the training, and slack’n on the diet. At one point, after the race last week, I was down to 192. I had planned upping my training so I didn’t feel too bad about upping the caloric intake, except I never really upped the training. I would blame it on The Warden, or Son#1, but they are both fully capable of defending themselves and shooting holes in my logic, so this whole ugly situation all resides on the shoulders of Son#2 and my dog. It is their fault. I had nothing to do with it. It had absolutely nothing to do with my unchecked consumption of pretzels, pizza, root beer, steak tacos, cheese burgers, and cream soda. Lounging lazily in Craig’s boat, or snoring on his couch most of the weekend was not a factor. So anyway, it’s back to basics, back to my blog, it keeps me honest. Back to the bike, and back to no eating like a gluttonous fat pig sitting down to his last supper on death row. Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t been sitting on my ass, I’ve been walking a bit, when I can get away from work for a real live lunch hour, and I have been hitting the trainer and running, just not enough.

The race in Carpentersville this coming Sunday is looking like a real strong maybe, if not there is Bartlett the week after for sure, and St Charles on the 2^nd, my birthday, I’ll probably do that one for sure. The thing is, I’m gonna get another race or two in this season. I’d like to shoot for more, but we are coming up on a steady stream of family birthdays and Holidays that could draw a load on Warren Buffet’s budget, so I gotta be picky. Let’s not even talk about the quest for a real live geared CX bike. Man, you start looking for a 4rth bike on line, and mutter the phrase pawn shop, and suddenly everything we own in the house is a family heirloom. Whatever. Do we really need the box spring? The mattress on the floor did us fine for the first 10 years? And what’s with all this silverware? Do we need a spoon and a knife and a fork, for EVERY person at the table? Son#1 can’t even touch the sharp knives yet, and Son#2 could eat a 3 course meal with a straw. The Warden is the only one who really uses utensils. Eating with your hands is the environmentally responsible thing to do anyway.

My first real live actual race report!!!!!!

2008-10-06T21:12:00.012-05:00

OK, time to flesh out the skeleton...

Being my first race and all, and seeing as how I barely got to ride half the course for a practice lap, I felt it would be wise to start out towards the rear, I didn’t want to cause a pile up at the first turn. I will never make that mistake again. Screw ‘em, they can go around me.

Charging "The Hill"

The rest is kind of a blur. I remember my first two, and only passes, a lot of adrenaline, a lot of vomit suppression, and a 6 year old boy hollering for all he was worth through the gap left by his missing two front teeth.

IthinkIcanIthinkIcanIthinkIcan
up "The Hill." For you locals, that is Jay standing up in the foregrond. The man could cheer a square boulder up that hill.

First there was the fat dude leap frog. Me and the other Clydesdale passed each other quite a few times on the first lap. He started sucking wind pretty hard and I passed him shortly after the Slip’n’Slide. The second part of lap one and first half of lap two were pretty uneventful.

Rounding "The Hill" and coming down the "Slip'n'Slide."

After Hefty, I caught up with Clumsy. I outweighed this guy by at least 50 lbs, and he was on a geared bike and everything. He’d pass me, get a few yards ahead of me, then fall down. This happened 3 or 4 times, at least. Finally, I managed to get around him clean and started getting out ahead of him. I was pretty much all alone for the last two laps. I would see Clumsy on the switchbacks, but he had slowed quite a bit, one of those falls must have walloped him good I guess. Maybe he was hungover, or still possibly drunk. I talked to him after the race, he was built like a real live biker, no arms, no chest, legs that looked like they could drop kick a bowling ball 300 yards. Maybe it was his first race too.

Rounding th bottom corner of the "Slip'n'Slide." I'm guessing this is where about 90% of the wrecks were. I survived all trips down.

After that it was just a matter of trying not to fall down. It had rained before and the course was still slick at spots. Just about the time I started feeling like I could have tried harder, the adrenaline wore off. My bike started feeling heavy. I mean HEAVY, like I was pushing 150 gear inches uphill with flat tires. I barely made it up the hills of the Slip'n'Slide, I seriously almost stalled out. I did my best to finish strong, but I was feeling it. I could barely turn the pedals over, even on the flats.

Worlds cutest cheering squad. That's my mom on the right, I let her come even though she wouldn't
buy me that bike, that's how good of a son I am.

Sorry, I couldn't resist a closeup of that gap-toothed smile, he lost that second tooth the morning of the race. The kid can yell, and man, he can ring the hell out of a cowbell too!

So what did I learn? Cyclocross is like crack. Biking is about to get more fun, a little more intense, that is for sure, but a lot more fun. This weekend I’m gonna go through the house and see what I can pawn to get a real CX bike. I don’t know about Hawthorn Woods, but Carpentersville is definitely on the horizon. I can’t believe I screwed off all summer when I could have been training for this. I need to get off my ass and get serious. And Chas thought she was a bike widow this summer…

Veni, vidi, vici.

2008-10-05T20:57:00.001-05:00

Well, not so much of the vici part, but hey I survived. I came in 36th out of 40, and near as I could tell, I was the only single speed in the bunch. I finished, and I didn't come in last, that's about all I got to say for now. I am TIRED and going to bed. I'll post more on it tomorrow, along with some pics. It was a blast.

Oh yeah, my sister finished her marathon. She sounded a little disappointed with her time over the phone. Whatever. You ran a frick'n marathon. You managed to train for and complete a marathon while chasing a 8 year old, a 6 year old (and believe me, that one can run) and a 2 year old 24/7. Cut yourself the tiniest bit of slack would you? My fat ass is pleased as punch I finished my race with out needing my inhaler.

I tried...

2008-10-04T21:03:00.007-05:00

I was at the shop with my mom today and tried convincing her to buy me a thousand dollar cyclocross bike. It was a Bianchi, with gears and everything, but she wasn't having it, even after I pointed out how close it was to my birthday, and how much money I was saving her by picking the one that was on sale. Oh well, Christmas is coming up and I liked the Specialized one better anyway.

I got ahold of a 20 tooth freewheel today, and last night I watched a 1 minute and 40 second Youtube video on clearing the hurdles, so I’m going to totally dominate for sure tomorrow.

Mad props to my sister, she is running a marathon in Portland, Oregon tomorrow. It is amazing what some people will do to get away from their 3 kids for a few hours. Just kidding, she is just weird. Marathon runners are insane. I ran for 45 minutes Thursday, it hurt like hell and I am still feeling it. Last time she ran a marathon she got home and found out she was pregnant. I hope her and my Bro-in-law thought this through. I sure love my nieces and nephew, but man, they can tire a person out, I don't know if I could handle a fourth. My sister is few years older than me, she was the good kid. She has always set a pretty good example, but I'm just a little late following it. A big part of the reason I started cleaning my act up so to speak was because her expressed concern and advice finally started getting through my thick skull. That is a pretty good testament to her determination in the matter right there. Anyway, good luck Gayle, everybody over here is very proud of you.

Well, the big race is tomorrow, gotta go get my bike put together, later folks.

Steve made a request…

2008-09-29T21:19:00.006-05:00

So after a two year tour on the submarine I went to Corpschool to learn how to be a medic. I was one of the few “fleet returnees” stuck in a class full of teenagers who just got out of boot camp and could legally drink on base. On top of all that, I had not seen the Warden for more than 3 days in a row for about 6 months. I just didn’t have the patience for much those days and could be quite the grouch. It was there that I met Roden The Bastard Pilot of the Juggernaut. His real name was Arron Fuller, his middle name was Roden. He was from the next town over from my Grandmother in Texas. He liked to drink, was quick to smile, and the grouchier I got the more he laughed, so we got a long great. He also had a truck on base, and we would get bored, grab a designated driver, and make pilgrimages to L.A., at least they were pilgrimages when it was my idea. If it was Fuller’s idea we just went to L.A. to yell at the hookers. A lot of times it started out as a pilgrimage, but then later digressed into going to yell at the hookers. Anyway you look at it though, we usually ended up in L.A. yelling at hookers.

So one night, after making a wrong turn somewhere near the tar pits we found ourselves in a part of L.A. you never saw in episodes of Beverley Hills 90210. We eventually found our way back to Holywood cruising up and down Santa Monica yelling things at hookers. Now when this actually went down, I was in shock, of all the places I had imagined my life taking me it never involved me hanging out of a pick up next to a 6’5” half breed Apache with a cowboy hat and a southern accent, yelling at some poor girl in a pair of combat boots, some sort of mesh tube top thing, and a fluorescent green bikini with a matching purse…with something in it…she is pulling something out of her purse…is that a..HOLY SHIT IT’S A GUN!!!! CHAD GET US OUT OF HERE SHE’S GOT A GUN!!!

Fuller swears up and down she actually fired it at us, and spent the next three days looking for bullet holes in the Juggernaut, but I never heard the shots, but then again I was busy trying to pull Fuller back in the cab, he was a bit drunker and considerably larger than me.

The Navy, it is not just a job, it is an adventure.

Sorry, how much can you blog about riding the trainer down in the basement? Weight is 195-198ish something, back and neck are still jacked up, and I still got my cold.

CLEAR LEFT!!!!!!

2008-09-24T21:24:00.006-05:00

Sick and injured I limped into the shop lot this afternoon praying Brian and Mike were going to be no shows, but my cries and pleas fell on deaf ears. Not only were they both there, but Drew was too, of course he always shows up. And not only was Drew there, but none of the other “buffer” riders were there, the guys who can keep up, but kind of hang back and make sure I don’t get lost. Don’t get me wrong, I like riding with Brian and Mike, besides the fact that they can both ride me into the ground, and never hesitate to help me out when I need it, they are funny as hell to watch together. Mike won’t shut up, and he answers every question he throws at Brian before Brian can get his water bottle out of his mouth, then starts arguing with his own answer.

Now Drew is in the equation. He is fast, and only wants to go faster, every other word out his mouth is “race.” I think him and Mike are going to start a team or club. The way they were talking today it looks like I might get to drive the sag wagon for them in the next tour. Today Drew told me I gotta push myself if I want to get faster. Thanks for the juicy tidbit there Drew! He was sitting bolt upright, riding no handed, sucking on a water bottle. I smiled and nodded, I didn’t have the oxygen to explain that my heart rate was 186, about 97% of my max, and had been, for about 8 minutes. I hope I can keep up with him a little longer next season, his enthusiasm is contagious, and he’s just a fun guy to ride with.

Brian had some sort of surgery recently, something to do with “scopic” and ulcers. It’s been a few years since I had to turn around when a Marine said “Doc” but I remember enough to know that is a cringe inducing vocabulary combo. Anyway, he started feeling it at the turn around and making all kinds of not so pleasing gastric noises and had to back off. He has pulled me all over the county this summer trying to teach me how to go faster, so I hung back, although I tried to maintain a safe distance, somewhere inside the green zone of conversation but outside of the red zone of projectile vomiting. Between the cold I caught, my inability to turn to the left (It is an old CX injury, see previous post) I was glad for the rest, the company, and for someone to yell “Clear left” for me at the intersections. I hope he was actually checking.

Game On!

2008-09-22T20:38:00.001-05:00

Apparently my cross skilz are a little rusty, and by a little rusty, I mean completely nonexistent. Saturday I met with Tobie, Aaron, and some other people new to me for a cross practice at the park. Son#1 had team pictures and a soccer game, so I was operating under a time constraint. I basically had time for a lap around the park, a quick rundown on how to get over the barriers by Aaron, and a few hops over them by myself, and then I had to scoot. In retrospect, maybe I should have gotten my lessons from somebody who didn’t break his collar bone on the first lap of his first cross race.

Actually, Aaron didn’t bust my chops nears as much as Joel or Steve would have had they been there, and barely laughed at all when I nutted myself on the nose of my saddle. I missed my cleat hopping back on the bike. They eventually took off for another lap after we broke out the barriers, and I did a few more rounds solo. I almost biffed once when my toe came over on the cranks and kicked my front tire. I managed to pull some muscles in my neck and upper back shoulder area staying upright on that maneuver, so I’ve been walking around like Batman since Saturday morning. Things loosened up a bit after a ride Sunday, and I’m doing better today, so I don’t think I did any permanent damage, but it still hurts to look to the left. This off season I am definitely going to work on my flexibility and do some core strength training, some of that probably would have gone a long way to prevent this sort of injury. Not falling off your bike should not hurt this much.

Although brief, it was fun. It will probably be more fun once I swap out my semi slick tires and get a lower ratio going on the drive train. I bought an 18 tooth freewheel and have my original 42 tooth chain ring and the stock cross tires that came on the bike. That’s about all I can manage to upgrade/change for now, so my first cross race will be on a single speed cross bike spec’d out with some of the heaviest components known to man. That along with the 40 pounds of extra weight I am carrying in the form of ass should make for an epic first race. Good times will be had by all.

60 Grit Wet/Dry

2008-09-15T20:25:00.005-05:00

…And it rained for forty days and for forty nights. OK, so maybe it only rained for 3 days, but the result was much the same. I haven’t seen this many Chicago land reporters in galoshes since they accidentally punched a hole in the bottom of the Chicago River and the salmon were swimming in the lingerie department at Marshal Fields. It all kind of made for a crappy weekend. I had high hopes for the trainer this year, but even with a movie, an hour, maybe an hour and a half at the most, is about all I can manage. Oh well, I have other plans for off season training too.

The Warden was cool and did some fast talking that got me out of the house and out on the road. I love getting Son#1 out on the bike and all, but I haven’t been on and actual outdoor ride in over a week. I’ll make sure tomorrow's ride with him is a good one.

It was actually kind of chilly tonight, and the flooded cornfield and pastures are already starting to reek. Last year the pumpkin field I pass on my way to work flooded, and in the 90 degree temps that fall, it was nauseating. I will never ever eat pumpkin pie again; I could barely managed to carve the Jack ’o’ Lantern last fall. Anyway, I only did 20 miles, and my 16 mph average is very misleading. It was a rough 20, I went out to Keslinger and rode up and down a hill about half a dozen times till I felt the vomit start trying to escape, then headed back home into the wind, all on my single speed.

Fall is definitely coming, and there is lots of stuff on the horizon. We got trips to the Pumpkin Farm for my annual camel ride with Son#1, the Pumpkin train down in Waterman, the Bonfire Chas and I throw every year, we even made some beer for it this year, it should be a good time. I am contemplating kicking it all off with this:

I am hesitant to commit to this. I find it hard to get all excited about riding a race I know I can’t win. Not only can I not win, I am fairly certain I would place last, unless somebody falls and breaks an arm or something. And I don’t mean I’ll probably place last in the I am trying to be humble kind of sense. I mean it in the cold hard facts of the real world and laws of physics sense. I am still pretty hefty. Compared to other bikers, especially ones who have been training for this sort of thing, I am a frick’n hippopotamus. Second there is hardware. I technically do have a cross bike, but it is a single speed, and it ain’t exactly high end. Then there is the whole jumping over barrier thingies with your bike over your shoulder. I sure will look silly when I case it and face plant, thus embedding my so/so cross bike into my back. Notice I said when, not if. The real scare factor comes from the fact that Joel says cross racing is just absolute brutal torture, and he’s probably forgotten more about brutal torture than I ever hope to learn. Aaron broke his collar bone on his first race. I do have my delicate liver to consider.

We’ll see. (You can ask Steve what that means)

Lateral Drift.

2008-09-11T22:00:00.003-05:00

Weight: 198.2
Delta M: -2.2
Mileage: Up for debate
September Mileage: 109

Despite a lack of real miles, I have been working pretty hard, to the point where I am somewhat surprised I haven’t lost more weight than I have. The weight was flying off me right up until Saturday, when I crossed the 200 threshold, and then it kind of stalled out. Probably just a minor plateau, a nice hard ride should bust me through it. The problem is finding that ride, whenever the weather is cooperating something comes up, like soccer practice or a ride promised to 6 year old. Oh well, I’ve still found ways to get some work outs in, like running around the park while he plays with his friends, or doing laps around the soccer fields while he was at practice. I’ve also been hitting the trainer in the mornings and doing my lunch time walks. It’s not the group ride, but my legs are still sore when I’m done, so it’s got to be doing something for me.

Saturday I got to make beer with a friend from work. That was pretty cool. I suppose it would be cooler if I actually drank beer. Actually, I’m probably lucky I don’t like it, because it was fun to make, and I could see me getting way to into it. Other than that, there is not a whole lot going on here. Craig and Julie are in Hawaii right now, and I get to feed their fish. Yeah, you’re all jealous, I know.

Look out Joel, sentiment below!!!!

2008-09-09T21:39:00.009-05:00

This is a submission for Scribbit’s September’s Write Away Contest. Chas checks her blog often and suggested I submit something this time around. Sorry about all the touchy feely emotional stuff Joel, I know you’ll probably get the hives from reading this. If it is any consolation I promptly went over to a friend’s house and made some beer after writing this, does that help?

Blue. My son’s helmet is blue. There are other colors, other sensations vying for my attention, the sloppy clop of my running shoes as my feet slap the pavement, the ash gray asphalt, flecked and pitted, long over due for a reseal, the grass, sandy green, crunchy and long over due for a slow rain. Pollen and dust cling to my shoes almost as if they were rusted. I am bent over, leaning, running, and clutching at my son’s shoulder and bike seat as we struggle against gravity and seek balance, but from this limited vantage, all I really see is his blue helmet, overwhelming by proxy. He is struggling with his handle bars, and I am bent and running, trying to get enough air, straining not to fall over, and arguing with myself about whether not I should just let go.

This is our third day at this. If I was a better father, we would have been doing this months ago, maybe even last summer, but that is my fault and not his, for now he is struggling with all the effort a 6 year old boy can muster. His cheeks are red and his knuckles are white, I gave up on convincing him to relax on lap three around the park, yesterday. His knees are grass stained and his hair is wet and plastered to his forehead under that blue helmet. I can sense him exploring with the handle bars and trying to figure out the lean. We are on the cusp, and both of us know it. I am using less and less pressure, I can straighten up a little to catch my breath every 20 yards or so.

“Take a break Dad?”

“Nah, I’m Ok Son, besides I think we are close. Too close to take a break.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Another twenty yards and sweat rolls down my forehead and into my eyes, I have to straighten up or fall and take us both out. I let go and he is gone…10 yards…20 yards…30 yards. He is on his own and he knows it. I jump up and down and pump both my fists in the air. I want to yell before I burst, but I hold it because I don’t want to scare him.

He doesn’t see it happen, but his world just shrunk a little while his horizon expanded exponentially. His legs are pumping fast and furious for just one little lap, that is his goal, that is all he wants, then he can have that candy bar I promised him. Next it will be two laps, then four. Tomorrow he won’t even care about laps, he’ll just worry about keeping up with his friend Jacob. The park is no longer a 10 minute walk for him, it will be 1 minute ride. He won’t be asking my wife and I to slow down for him, we’ll be telling him how far he can go before he has to wait for us to catch up.

That simple little act of balance, that trick with the inner ear, just complicated things a little for him too. Next summer pennies and nickels and dimes won’t be tools for learning to count, or toys to put in the box. They will be hoarded for comic books and candy on our Saturday rides into town. The year after that there will be dollars and allowances and chores in exchange for new grips or a BMX helmet, or maybe even a skateboard.

For now though, his little body is shrinking even more as he accelerates away from me. I can’t see it, but I know he is wearing a face splitting smile that only a six year old who just figured out he can do one more thing can wear. He is sitting Marine Corps straight, eyes fixed ahead like I taught him, and I can hear him giggle when he over corrects and goes off the path, all knees and elbows and flickering shiny bike parts, wobbling and weaving with maniacal purpose, all hanging from under his tiny little blue helmet.

Does this look like malaria to you..yellow fever maybe?

2008-09-05T22:48:00.004-05:00

Weight: 200.4
Delta M: -2.6
Mileage: Up for debate*
September Mileage: 85

The weather was too good to let everybody sit at home this afternoon, so after I got home from work we packed up the kids and headed to a forest preserve a few towns over. It’s small, and hardly used, and has a nice path for small family hikes. We got about 50 yards into the woods before the swarms of mosquitoes massed and advanced. We told Son#1 to save himself and did our best to keep them from flying off with Son#2. When we got home it was getting close to dark so I did some intervals on the trainer.

As I mentioned before, I was in the Navy and did a stint on a submarine. It’s not near as glamorous as one might think, in fact, it was kind of boring. After seventy days into a 100 day patrol you get a little cranky. Everybody is tired of each other and desperate for entertainment and that’s where the calendar comes into play. It’s kind of like those construction paper chains you use to make in grade school counting down the days to Christmas, except a little more ritualized.

I was on a Trident class submarine. We had 24 missile tubes, so 24 days out, we entered Tube Days*. We had a picture of a hot chick in a bikini and a cold bottle of beer we taped to tube 24, the next day we moved it to tube 23 and so on.

Nine days out, we hit Single Digit Midget days. This usually coincided with the end of hate week, which usually started around tube day 20, but that could vary depending on training schedules and tests and all that stuff. You would ask somebody to pass the salt, and being so sick of your nagging ass, they would simply stick a fork in your eye and twist. You just had to try your best not to take it personally, because chances are you’d be doing the same to somebody else at breakfast tomorrow. It can be tricky though, monocular vision can mess with your depth perception.

Anyway, after Single Digit Midget Days, 6 days out, came the Holiest of Holies, No Mores. There will be no more Tuesdays…no more Mondays…you get the idea. This can be pursued and drilled down almost infinitely, no more boat hot dogs, no more powdered eggs made with powdered milk, no more navy showers but hopefully that wasn’t set more than 3 days out at the most.

BOCOD was usually set somewhere in No Mores, but that’s about as detailed as I’m gonna get on that one. If you know somebody in the Navy ask them, I don’t think most of you are set for that level of depravity yet, and some may even like me still, and I don’t want to kill that. I’m a family man now, those days are behind me.

The only reason I bring all this up, is that tomorrow, or Sunday at the latest, I hope to enter No Mores. No more 200’s for me. It has taken me longer to lose the weight this time than it did last time, but I am more concerned about keeping it off over the winter than I am about how fast I am losing it. Unless it involves steroids, a lot of weight lifting, a personal trainer, and a lucrative contract with WWF, I never want to see 200 again. I don’t care if I have to chop off a limb.

*I did walk today, and then rode the trainer, but I have a hard time calling that "miles".

Son#1 better turn out really smart!

2008-09-04T20:49:00.002-05:00

Weight: 203.0
Delta M: -3
Mileage: Zilch
September Mileage: 85

No ride tonight, stupid open house, stupid school, stupid new age parenting crap! My dad didn’t even know what grade I was in half the time. One morning he had to drive me to school. I fell asleep in the car and when he woke me up and told me we were there, we were at the wrong school. He never had to go to an open house and I turned out just fine, although he did have to go to more than one parent/teacher/principal/student conference. That was never good. Anyway, who the hell plans an open house on the night of the NFL season opener? That’s just wrong.

I did do an easy spin on the trainer this morning, and walked during lunch, but I was hoping to squeeze in another ride of some sort tonight.

Do not try this at home kids...

2008-09-03T21:22:00.006-05:00

Weight: 206.2
Delta M: -1.2
Mileage: 27
September Mileage: 85

According to various online logs and calculators, between my food intake, my easy spin this morning, and my walk during lunch, I rolled out of the house for the Wednesday group ride with about a 180 calorie deficit for the day. That deficit just covered intake and output, it did not consider basic metabolic functions, or things like breathing.

At first I thought it was pretty bad ass, a stoic example of my renewed dedication to purpose. I grabbed my bike, turned towards the door and even felt skinny. Being all cool and cavalier I flippantly mentioned to Chas it was either really cool, or really stupid, that we would see.

Well, I saw. I saw the other riders disappear over a couple of rollers right around mile 13.

I got dropped, quick, hard and painful like. Even down hills felt like up hills, and it will take some pretty hardcore intense therapy before I can talk about the up hills. It was just me, Brian, Mike and Drew, so I would have been dropped eventually anyway, but did it have to hurt that much, or happen so soon?

Luckily Mike had to turn around early so he could get his daughter to band practice, so I had company on the ride home. Brian and Drew kept going, I think the plan was to head to Burlington, a little too rich for my taste tonight.

Mike took a quick shot of me with his cell phone before we parted ways on Tenth St.

Yeah, I realize that is a caboose, I use to be a conductor. This where the witty part of my blog title comes into play. Of course that caboose is looking about how I feel at this point.

I'm Back

2008-09-02T21:21:00.002-05:00

Weight: 207.4
Delta M: 3.2
Mileage: 13.4 (Single Speed)
September Mileage: 58

Chas and I have formally boycotted any future gatherings having anything to do with, or even in the proximity of food, or at least the good kind of food anyway, you know, the stuff dripping with fat and oozing over with flavor. If everybody wants to gather around a plate of freshly steamed tree bark or something, I suppose we could make an appearance. I’m going to have Eric draft up some formal legal documents for us, and use lots of big lawyer words like habius potroastas and carpe bratwurst. I’ll make sure he uses lots of comas and italics and stuff too.

Son#1 guilted me in to taking him to the park so I had to cut the ride short this afternoon, but it was ungodly hot out so it didn’t take all that much guilting on his part. Truth be told I was half tempted to hit the trainer with a nice fan and some AC action down in the basement, but then I had a vision of me throwing up in mid January because I had already watched every DVD we own 6 times on the trainer while the temperature creeps up to 3 degrees above zero in January, and kicking myself because one day in September I thought it was too hot to ride outside. Besides, the Warden loves it when I glisten, MEEEEEEEEEEOWW!!!!!