The Crusher In The Tushar

Get comfortable, this is a long one.
So, way back in February when I started this blog I was looking for inspiration.  That inspiration came in April when the Crusher In The Tushar began to consume my thoughts.  Over the months I was able to focus and lose a little over 20 pounds, depending on the day.  I rode a lot this spring, but this year the spring extended well into June.  Having spent most of the winter getting ready for summer, it was disappointing when it didn't come until freaking July.
So what happened? I caved in.  Though I am riding my "regular" summer routine, I wouldn't call any of it serious training.  I did  a few big climbing days, but mostly the short hour or two rides that allow my jiggly mid-section.  Then it happened with just a few weeks remaining until the Crusher I came down with a terrible chest cold.  Coughing up things that I swore could have crawled away.  I pressed on with my so-called training.  Getting worse each time I would go out.  The dumbest thing I did was a race in Corner Canyon on June 14th.  With my failing lung capacity my heart rate pinged up to 189 on the first climb.  I finished the race, but regretted it for weeks after.  I spent nearly two of the last four weeks leading up to the Crusher not riding at all.
My man boobs are coming back in nicely.  I did manage to get on the bike a little more the last two weeks before the race, but by then the damage was done.
With the once in a century snowfall that Utah received last winter, the Crusher course was forced onto an alternate course.  This knocked about ten miles and 2K feet of climbing off.  But the reports were that the new climbs were looser and steeper than the originals.
With low expectations I climbed into Cobourn's Lezbaru and submitted to the inevitable.  We had both decided that cyclocross bikes were the way to go and in my unofficial poll, that seemed to be the consensus among racers.
It's always cool to travel to some race and run into lots of people you know.  The northern Utah contingent was well represented and there were at least a dozen bonafide friends and a few dozen "facebook friends" to chat up when we lined up for the start.
One thing the Crusher didn't have, was lots of categories.  Most of the time you have several skill/fitness categories for each age group.  A's,B's, and C's.  Cat's 5,4,3,2,and 1.  Pro,Expert, Sport, and Beginner.  This one had Pro/Open, and everybody else was simply divided by age.  No sandbagging here.  If you didn't think you could hang with nationally recognized professional cyclists, you lined up with the rabble.  This put me firmly in the middle of my category (30-39) and Cobourn into the 29 and under category.  His category had six total entrants. It seems you have to be on the cusp of a mid-life crisis to think this race sounds fun.  The 30-39 category and the 40-49 were nearly equal with 39 and 38 finishers respectively.
Cobourn's category started one minute before mine so they were nearly out of sight before we even started rolling.  I lined up with a lot of guys I knew from 'cross and several buddies, Wesley Rasmussen, Ryan Thompson, Ryan Hamilton all looked as freaked out as I felt.  Behind me, Alex Kim and Ron Dailey were both waiting to make me look slow by comparison.
At the start we rolled out of Beaver on pavement heading for Fish Lake National Forest.  I have a history of not being smart about pacing myself, so I spun up to speed pretty fast.  I was riding alongside a lot of dudes that I know to be much faster than me.  That's not humility, that's scientifically proven.  Tim Matthews, Brian Tolbert, Adam Lisonbee, anybody that didn't look like they were carrying a change of clothing stuffed under their jersey.  We were buzzing along at 20 mph and suddenly I was pulling the whole pack.  This concerned me, but I didn't feel like I was pinned and thought I would just ride comfortable until things got serious.  I led us to the outskirts of town, and the pack funneled into a long line.  I stayed up in the front twenty or so looking for the smaller pack of 29 and under racers in front of us.  My plan was to catch Cobourn and then ride with him for the majority of the race.  Thing is I never saw him.  As we turned onto the dirt forest service road I realized that he must have had a hell of a good start and I would have to try and catch him for the rest of the day.
The moment we hit dirt, the paceline disintegrated.  The bad-asses took off and the civilians settled into suffer mode. To clarify, I was in suffer mode.  The steepish climb had me in my lowest gear pretty quick, and I was perfectly happy to ride my own pace.  It stung a little when Steve Wasmund and a couple of the other Singlespeed riders overtook me.  But I will never be that kind of crazy.  The bike was running good, I was surviving.  But I still couldn't see Cobourn.  This was the best supported/organized race I have ever been in.  Four full blown aid stations with cold water and mix already in bottles, grab one and drop your old one.  Gel flasks were available as handups and there was actual food if you cared to stop and eat it.  I had made a slight tactical error by loading my jersey up with my own food.  This was unnecessary and only contributed to my discomfort later in the race.  I crested the first climb and began the steep rough descent into Junction and Circleville.  While not the most confident descender, the cross bike held it's own.  I managed to pass three guys on mountain bikes which validated my bike decision and proved I was smarter than them.  My fatigue did lead to at least two bad line choices and sphincter-clinching recoveries, but all in all nothing major.  Soon I rolled onto the pavement heading into Junction.  The grade was downhill and as I was starting to hurt, I tucked up into  the tightest ball I could and was able to coast at 30-35mph.  This was enough to overtake two more mountain bikers who were still spinning for all they were worth.  I sat up as we rolled through the third aid station to grab some water.  I fumbled the bottle and had to loop back to get another.  The last two mountain bikers caught me again, and we traded pulls all the way to Circleville and the return to dirt.  These guys were in obviously better shape than me and once rolling resistance was no longer an advantage they faded into the distance.
The next few miles of the race were miserable.  Like a tour of Eagle Mountain, Utah.  None of the high mountain shade and cool breezes I had been riding in all morning.  Hot, dry, dusty.  I started to fade pretty quick.  I finally stopped in a shady spot just big enough for me to stand under for a minute or two and try to cool off.  That's when the ladies started passing me.
Now I'm all for Title 9, but there's something about a woman passing you that motivates you to try and hang onto their wheel.  This particular woman casually chatted about the beautiful scenery and I tried to smile through chapped lips and pretend that she wasn't about to drop me.  Then her friend caught up to her, and they both dropped me.  This dirt road led you back to the pavement that I had enjoyed so much previously.  But now the grade would not be in my favor.  The course doubled back on itself and the 5K or so of descending became a hellish, arduous climb.  This is where the only glitch in the race organization came into play.  There was a water station where you rejoined the pavement.  A water station that had just ran out of water.  They had electrolyte mix, which was mixed so thick it burned the back of my throat, but I only got about a half bottle of water.  The girl at the station said there was a truck bringing more water, but I was very concerned that I still hadn't caught up with, or even seen Cobourn.  I laid my bike down, and walked over to the stream running alongside the road.  I wet my arms and legs, jersey, shorts etc.  trying to cool off.  I didn't dare fill a bottle though, fearing giardia or some other nasty bug.
 I rolled out and into the hardest leg of the race.  Six miles from there to the King of the Mountain line.  I'm guessing about 1-2 of it was paved.  Then you  hit the dirt.  My legs were now beginning to ache.  I slowly churned up the first mile or so of dirt.  Passing the occasional dismounted rider pushing their bike along.  I was hurting so bad I just looked straight down at the pedals.  In fact, I was so oblivious I actually ran into a walking racer.  Since I was only going about 2 mph there was no harm done, so I apologized and kept plugging away. Ahead I saw Johnathan Lozon.  He was walking.  In my head I figured I didn't want to walk by somebody I knew.  So I pedaled past him...about fifty feet.  Then I got off and walked.  Then he caught up with me.  Then he passed me.  The climb was divided into switchbacks.  God-forsaken, windy, hot, switchbacks.  Heading south the wind was right in your face, like an open oven door.  Heading north, it gave just enough push that I could remount and slowly turn the pedals. Switchback, dismount, switchback, remount  , etc.  Until I came up on the final pitch.  Ahead I saw at least a dozen broken men, pushing their bikes.  I got in line.  After the final switchback the grade let up just enough, that if there had been anybody still at the KOM line I wanted to ride over it, not walk.  There was nobody left to cheer at the KOM line.  And what's worse, the aid station I was expecting at the KOM line was actually the same one that I had come through hours before.  Three miles further up the mountain.  Emphasis on up.
I struggled through and came up on the only aid station that I actually stopped and rested at.  They had lots of fruit, fluids, gel.  Anything you needed to get you through the final leg.  The support crew was also very helpful and supportive.  Friendly faces help a lot when you are suffering.  I also started to slip mentally.  After slamming a can of Coke, a bunch of watermelon, an orange wedge, and some pretzels, I started to pedal away.  As a joke, I told the ladies that if I didn't make it they should tell my wife I loved her.  They yelled out "Okay, what's her name?"  I yelled over my shoulder, "KELLIE MCCARREL!"  And then, as though I would never see her again, I almost started bawling.  I had to put a foot down and gain my composure.  I wasn't crying, I have...err...allergies.  Realizing that this little breakdown was more closely related to fatigue than clairvoyance, I pushed on.
There were approximately 10 miles left.  The next three were very much uphill.  Soon I was walking again.  Walk til it hurt, ride til it hurt, walk til it hurt, ride til it hurt.  Soon the road surface changed to a fine gravel.  The trees opened into broad meadows and a cool wind occasionally came up behind me. Although the grade was a little gentler, I was falling apart.  Dizzy, weak, winded.  Then peppy young fellow on a singlespeed chugged past and said,"That spinning your feeling, is the 10K ft line."  I checked my computer and he was right.  Somehow this buoyed my spirit.  It explained some of my suffering.  I always hurt when I get above 10K ft.  The road seemed nearly flat now. I got on and actually found myself grabbing gears.  Then a BIG wind came up behind me.  Once again I got a little choked up.  It was like God didn't hate me.  Before long, I saw a glorious thing.  A downhill grade sign. 6-8% for the next twenty miles.  Only two of those were on my course, but it was something.  I coasted down the loose gravel and didn't see another soul.  I wasn't going very fast, but it was so nice to move forward without pedaling.  I soon spit out on the paved road that led to Eagle Point Ski Resort.  A mini-van full of somebody's family was there cheering me on.  They asked if I needed water or anything.  I said all I needed was positive vibes.  At which point, the mother called out "I love your moustache!"
Oh, yeah, my moustache.  Cobourn had the bright idea of growing "Epic Moustache's" for the race.  Mine was ridiculous.

And at this point, it was snot and salt encrusted.  Gross.  Speaking of Cobourn, I had not seen him since he pedaled away from the start line.  I now faced a three mile climb on pavement with the image of Cobourn rested and cleaned up, eating hot dogs with Tinker Juarez.  It was more than I could bear.  I had to stop once again.  I was slurping some gels and drinking trying to get enough gumption to finish this bitch.  Just then Ron Dailey rolled up behind me.  Little, old, Ron Dailey.  29" mountain bike disciple and leprechaun impersonator.  His tiny body rowing his giant 29er up the mountain.  I jumped back on and rode along with him for a while.  We compared notes on the course and prodded each other along.  Then he asked, "Where's your buddy Ryan(Cobourn)" I mentioned that he had pulled away from me at the start and I never caught him.  He told me he had passed Cobourn on the KOM climb and talked to him.  THAT MEANT I WAS IN FRONT OF COBOURN!!!  I had spent the day pissed off that he was beating me, pushing ahead trying to catch him and all this time he was behind me.  Truth be told it's a good thing I didn't know that or I would have gone even slower than I already had.
The paved miles slowly ticked by and just when I thought we had a short downhill to the ski-resort I noticed a  huge detour sending us UP.  The final mile was a 10% grade to the upper parking lot of the ski resort.  That was cruel.  The grade forced me off my bike once again.  Ron simply grabbed his 22/34 granny gear and spun away from me.  The only time of the day that I reconsidered my gear choice.  Ride til it hurt, walk til it hurt etc.  Then I saw the sign 500 meters to the finish.  I would be damned if I was going to walk around the final corner in front of God and everybody.  I got back on and slowly churned up the road.  The finish line came into sight and guess what I did?  Tried not to bawl again.  Luckily I was in enough pain that I felt more like swearing than crying.
The longest hundred yards of my life.  Rolling in at 6:54:28.  The Big Dogs were long gone.  But there were still volunteers, drinks, cheers, friendly faces.  An overwhelming moment in an overwhelming day.  It just felt so good to stop. Cold water, gatorade, cold water.  It was like my birthday and Christmas all rolled into one.
I had originally set out to be "competitive".  Maybe make the top half of my category.  My dedication waned and I ended up right where I do in every race. Smack dab in the middle of the pack.  But I learned one very important lesson.
I am faster than Cobourn.

Slightly Faster Cyclist...

Still working on the looking good naked part.
With the holiday weather being what it was(cold and lousy) We got all our BBQing out of the way earlier in the weekend.  Leaving Monday open for some quality "me" time. Last night as I weighed my options, I decided to race in the Stan Crane Memorial XC Race.
The dozen or so Bratwurst I ate over the past two days was not helping at all in the diet department either.
Truth be told, I have never really been much of a mountain bike racer.  I have entered some races, I have organized a couple, but when it comes down to it, I've never been much of a racer.  In fact, this was to be the very first  ICUP race I had ever entered, despite people trying to talk me into it for years.  My logic has been that if I couldn't win, I didn't want to race.  Cyclocross has managed to drag the pride out of me, and the upcoming Crusher has created a need for high intensity riding that lasts longer than an hour.  The only people I thought I could drag along were Moody and Cobourn.  Since Cobourn is in Texas with the other arrogant bastards, and Moody was bowing out due to weather.  I went into this alone and frightened.
The weather was calling for snow above 5500 ft and rain all morning.  The trails in Corner Canyon can be delicate, as are the feelings of the locals who ride them.  The race was in doubt until 6 am this morning.  Once the word went out on Twitter that the race would go on, I threw my gear in a bag and headed for Draper.
The race had the exact feel of a really good Cyclocross race.  Cold and nasty.  I thought I was all set.  I brought a long sleeve jersey and some embrocation(for the non-cyclists this is like Ben-Gay you rub on your legs before a race so you can pretend it's not cold).  At least I thought I grabbed some embrocation.  What I grabbed in my haste was a tube of chamois cream which is applied to your crotchal region to prevent chafing on long rides.  Cold weather plan #1 fail.  Oh well, I threw on my long sleeve and headed out for a little warm up lap.  I was wearing a hoodie as well on the warm-up and when I came back I pulled it off to discover that my zipper had broken on the long sleeve.  Cold weather plan #2 fail.
With the wind blowing and intermittent rain drops I was one of only a few who rolled up to the start with bare arms and legs.  Later in the race, I noticed sweaty,soggy people who looked a lot less comfortable than I was. Cold weather pure dumb luck-win.
As I and the other Sport 35-39 racers rolled up to the start I felt a little out-gunned in the bike department.  I assumed this meant I was going to get a good shallaking.  But when the start was signaled I found myself duking it out for the hole-shot.  I sat up heading onto the single track because I thought I should save something for the rest of the race.  Through the lower section I stuck to the other guys wheel and by the time we went under the bridge we had a decent gap on the the rest of our category.  Other than one guy that passed us both on the switchback section.  I was feeling okay, not strong, but okay.  I tried not to get too excited that I might podium if I could hang on.  I held holeshot-guys wheel for the whole first lap, and pulled ahead of him just before the end of the first lap.  heading into the second lap I looked back and he was fading.  Yay for me.  Soon I was alone.  I couldn't see anybody in front of me, and I couldn't see anybody behind me.  Good racers take this opportunity to hammer and try to gap those who might be behind them.  I tend to sit up.  My legs were starting to fade, and of the racers I saw occasionally most of them were not in my category.  On the last big climb, I heard someone call out to pass.  I let him by and recognized that he was another guy from my category.  No excuses, I didn't have the legs to catch him.  I was still thinking I was in third place, and fighting cramps over the last mile or so, I crossed the line.
When the results started to go up on the board, I saw that I had indeed finished in third.
I called Kellie to brag, I told at least a dozen people, I asked Jake Weber to take my picture on the podium, then I walked over to the awards presentation and checked the board again.  Another name had been tacked onto the top of my category which bumped me off the podium and into fourth.  In itself, still a decent result, but the apparent shame of fourth position is reinforced by the pink ribbon you receive, and the "Tweety" chair that you sit in next to the podium for photos.  A child sized camp chair with a big picture of Tweety Bird.

How is it that fourth is more shameful than the dude that took fifth?  And why are either one of us called up for the podium?
Final Thoughts:
I did better than I thought I would.  I ran full tilt for two hours and twenty miles.  Maintaining a 170+ heart rate for most of that time.  The course was very much like Cyclocross.  No real rest and required a lot of body english to get through the mud and the muck.
Maybe the Crusher will be a little mellower.  Please God, let the Crusher be a little mellower.  If I can just settle into a groove, I think I will survive.

Crusher Dreams Part 2

The past week has been challenging.  I had been cruising along, not losing weight but not gaining any either.  Settled back into some questionable diet routines, but I was riding more to compensate.  For some reason Jeff and I decided to ride Thursday morning(36degrees), and lift Friday morning(50degrees). Thursday night I was able to sneak in a ride up the south side of Suncrest after work.  I felt pretty good about it.  I had researched the "official" time trial, and was going to see how I stacked up.  Luckily, it was the warmest ride of the season so far.  No cold weather gear required.  So nice.  From the powerlines to the last hydrant I had 18:46.  Here's the proof.  About a third of the way up, some punk kid rolled up next to me and was feeling chatty.  I'm not sure if I could have been faster if I wasn't talking, or if I was faster because I didn't want to get dropped by this kid who didn't even shave yet.  Didn't matter, he dropped me on the very last climb to the top.  Then told me how his goal was to make it under thirty minutes.  Just made it buddy. Grumble,grumble...
Since then it has been cold, rainy,snowy, and dismal.  Took the shop ride down to Price on Saturday for Trailfest, but spent more time BSing then riding.  Drove three hours round trip to ride for just under three hours and only cover 14 miles.  It was nice and sunny though.  So far this week has been terrible.
Not only has the weather sucked, but the gym has been closed for "Bubble Week".  This is the week they take the bubble off the pool so they close the whole thing down.  Each morning I have awakened to the sound of sheets of rain pounding on the roof so I rolled over and slept instead of doing any riding.  Yes I own a trainer, and yes I refuse to ride it in May.
This morning, I woke up again startled from the dream I had been having.  You'll remember that the last Crusher related dream I had featured Lance Armstrong telling me to ride more(and dress better).  This time I was actually at what my brain pictured as the Crusher. A few changes. For some reason it was being held in American Fork Canyon, and had become a duathlon.  I left my bike on the side of the road and began running up the Canyon.  Amazingly, I was in second place.  Cruising along.  Then somebody came up and said something about their bike being staged at the Pine Hollow Trailhead for the second stage.  I panicked because my bike was at the bottom. Then Burke Swindlehurst(the race director for the Crusher), whom I have never met outside of facebook was running next to me and I told him my bike didn't get staged.  He turned around and "paused" the race.  Amongst much grumbling, and moaning.  We lined up again, while a vehicle went back for my bike.  Once the vehicle passed us again, we resumed the run.  Which was no longer on the road, but inside my mind's version of Brer Rabbit's Briar Patch.  Breaking through branches, ducking under logs,(kind of like the trails in Price).  When I finally made it out the other side I was in an unfamiliar residential neighborhood and had dropped to DFL in the race.  Strangely, my bike was not the only one left in the staging area. Instead there was a humongous road bike with balloon tires.  Struggling to reach the pedals, I set out for the bike leg.  The remainder of the dream was me riding by myself, waiting for the broom wagon to pick me up.  I never saw the back of the pack, and the broom wagon never picked me up.  I just rode on, alone.
I may be letting this race get under my skin.
Morning Weigh-In:

• 178.6
• 21.0%
• Total Weight Loss:21.2

Road Trip, etc.

Despite my best efforts to re-motivate, it hasn't happened.  I continue to be in a "rest stage" for my diet.  While I have been riding a little more, I have pretty much abandoned the two a day routine.  I assure you this is for no good reason.  Pure, unadulterated laziness.
While I still try to make reasonable food choices, I also go on glorious binges.  Case in point, last weekend's road trip.
Last week Cobourn invited me to accompany he and Moody to his parents vacation home in Montrose CO.  He said it was about an hour outside Fruita, and coincidentally it was the same weekend as the Fruita Fat Tire Festival.
The plan was to hit a grocery store and eat at the house for the most part.  Seems like a reasonable choice for somebody who is on a diet right?  With this in mind, I didn't think anything about stopping at Grogg's in Carbonville for a nice, big, greasy burger.  We were going to be riding all weekend so certainly one little discretion wouldn't matter much.  We arrived pretty late in the evening in Montrose.  Shot the shit for a little while and headed off to bed.  We'd head to the trails and festival in the morning and grab groceries on the way back.
On our way into town, we decided to find a diner for breakfast.  Stopped in Delta, Colorado and I made my selection. 3 slices of French Toast, Bacon, Eggs, Toast.  Notice how I wisely avoided the starchy hashbrowns?  I'm a rock.
The weather quickly dampened the riding and after just about five miles or so, we decided to bag it and head into town for the festival.  Stopping at Smashburger in Grand Junction for lunch.  With the guilt still stinging from the burger the night before, I got a Chicago Dog.  And a strawberry milkshake.
The weather seemed to have affected attendance at the festival as well, so after only a short time we headed to the grocery store for supplies to last the weekend.  It wasn't my fault that Bratwurst and Chorizo were on sale.  Although I am the one that pointed it out.  And soon I was cooking my semi-famous "Team Clammy Chamois" post-race Brats.  I only had two.  And four Cadbury egg's for dessert.  They were on sale too.  Moody also contributed with his bacon-wrapped asparagus.  And Cobourn sure knows how to toss a salad.(Hurr-hurr-hurrrr)
Saturday morning brought Chorizo breakfast tacos.  Half and Half makes for extra fluffy eggs in case you were wondering.  Once we made it to the trails Moody would find out that Chorizo is not the fuel of champions. Or at least that it's not pleasant to exert yourself while burping Chorizo.  I, on the other hand am conditioned to run on garbage and had no such discomfort. I'm like the Delorian in Back To The Future.  I can synthesize energy out of common, ordinary garbage.  Of course I had three, Moody only had two.  That's probably what the problem was.  After an excellent day on the trails we made our way back to the house and cooked the pre-stuffed chicken breasts we had picked up. There wasn't a lot to them, other than enough cheese to melt out and completely cover the entire baking sheet they were cooked on.  There were only three of us, so somebody had to eat the fourth one.  You can't waste food.
Sunday we finished off the eggs and tortilla's, packed up, drove to the Kokopelli trails, rode seven miles and bee-lined it to Ray's Tavern in Green River for Ray's famous 1/2 pound bacon cheeseburger.
In hind-sight, I'm not sure all those meals were exactly "Tub o' Guts" approved.
Allright I blew it.  But the good thing is, that even though I ate like it was my last weekend on earth.  I came home and am still holding steady in the mid 170's.  To top that off, I rode up the south side of Suncrest today in 20:25, stop-sign to stop-sign.  Frankly I've never put a clock to it before.  But it felt faster than I usually do it.  With roughly 20 miles and 1600 ft of climbing...aah it's not enough to get ready for the Crusher, but it's something.
Morning Weigh-In:

• 176.4
• 19.2%
• Total Weight Loss:23.4

Dreams

Today is the day I officially stop counting days.  From here on out, when asked how long I have been doing this, I will say "A few months."  This is mostly because I no longer have the integrity to report each days events. Which is mostly because the last few days have seen me tuck and roll as I leapt  off the wagon of my diet.  Basically, I just didn't get back to it when the weekend was over.
My family had a bit of a medical emergency over the weekend. It kept my mind on things other than my "training regimen", so it was easy to justify eating garbage until things got sorted out.  I haven't suffered any serious setbacks.  I'm a couple pounds over my lowest weight from last week, but nothing serious.  I have also been hit and miss with my workouts so all things considered I'm doing okay.
As always I face tomorrow with a new resolve.  I have to, the Crusher is coming.
Ah, The Crusher.  It has consumed my thoughts since Monday when I registered.  I misjudged the popularity of the race.  I fully expected it to sell out the first day.  It didn't.  But it was fun to act like I was battling for a spot.  As I commented to Cobourn while we were waiting for registration to open, "...if there are only like twelve dudes that sign up tonight, we're totally gay."  As it stands just under 100 brave souls have signed up. Not quite making us gay, but certainly bringing our heterosexuality into question.
To be clear, I do not fear being able to complete the race.  And I'm not terribly concerned about not making the time cutoffs. Nor am I overly concerned about winning.  Competitiveness has never been my most outstanding feature. But I do want to have an above average showing.  Top half of the pack I should hope.  And in my estimation I've got a way to go to achieve that.

Joel 2:28
And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions:


Now that I am about to complete my 35th year.  I'm not sure that I qualify as either an old man, or a young man.  So perhaps the dream I had last night is neither a dream nor a vision.
Anyway, I will try my best to explain it as I understood it.
I was riding with some sort of club.  On the road. The ride eventually became several of us in a room talking, and then became just me and the leader of the group talking over a desk, as you would at a job interview.  He was telling me that if I was going to be a serious racer, I would have to quit my day job. (Not a terrible prospect though I was concerned at how I was going to make this transition and not lose my house.) He kept telling me that I would have to ride more than I had been. I kept saying "Yeah, that's fine, I can do that"  But was genuinely concerned about how to pay the bills while I was becoming a serious racer.
Then it got weird. The leader of the group became Lance Armstrong.  And we were no longer in an office, but a limo.  This for some reason seemed perfectly logical.  So now, Armstrong and I were chatting about bikes, and about racing, though we were no longer talking about me racing.  I was no longer in a job interview, but discussing becoming part of Armstrong's entourage.  He was telling me that he had "like two dozen dudes in his posse."  I remember thinking what a douche he was for calling it his posse.  The limo pulls up to a grand hotel.  And we start trying on suits in the lobby.  All the while, he's explaining to me that we all have to look good when we're around him.  He speaks as though I have been accepted into "the posse", but it's sort of on a trial basis. I also determine that being in "The Posse" means that I no longer have to work.  Armstrong keeps saying things like "We'll get your clothes fixed up, and then you just have to ride more." and "The only thing you have to do to stay here is to ride more."  I never meet any other members of "The Posse".  I begin to suspect that I am really the only member of  "The Posse" due to Armstrong being kind of a douche.  I ask him if he would like to go for a ride with me now.  He says "I don't ever ride with you guys, but you should definitely go for a ride, you need to ride more."
Then my alarm goes off.  Besides the obvious similarities to my friendship with Cobourn, what do you think this all means?
Morning Weigh In:

• 177.6
• 21.7%
• Total Weight Loss:22.2

Day 64 and 65

I'm such a tease.  I didn't post my "adjusted" 60 day photo yesterday like I said I would.  I can explain why, you see, I overslept a little and was about ten minutes late to spin class yesterday.  Spring Break in Utah County is still wreaking havoc on attendance, so with Jeff and his lovely wife and two menopausal women we sweat out the hour, or I should say slightly less than an hour with the instructor Moneka.  As I have said before, I have tried other spin classes, and I prefer Moneka's.  It is mainly because she picks the best music.  If I never hear that stupid "Aaaaaay Oh" song again it will be too soon.  Moneka seems to be a reformed f-chick as we used to call them back in the day.  Other commonly used terms would be metal-chick, stoner, butt-rocker, etc.  Thursday however she outdid herself.  The "Cycle Jam" included The Devil Went Down To Georgia, Immigrant Song, and Keep 'Em Separated.  Bar none the best spin class music I have ever experienced.  The high points were good enough to forgive her little forays into Journey and Godsmack.  I'd even say they were good enough to forgive her for the horrendous spelling of her name.
In any event, a good class. Went to work, and hustled home to catch Stan and the Utah Velo Club's first Vineyard Crit of the season.  I've ridden with Stan and Velo Club Vice Principal, Drew Decker a lot in the past.  But I've never done this "race".  We started at the shop, then rode out to the lake shore and into Vineyard where we hung a right and tiptoed our bikes past the jersey barriers that block the road into a subdivision that never happened.  They got as far as the utility improvements, curb and gutter, but then either the warmongering Republicans' wasteful spending, or the socialist elite Democrats' wasteful spending destroyed the economy and no homes were ever built.  What is left is perfectly smooth asphalt, laid out in blocks, with roundabouts on the corners.  And thanks to the barriers, no cars to worry about.  Hell yes.
We took a neutral lap to make sure everyone was familiar with the course.  Then did a 20 minutes+ 3 laps crit. Having never done a crit before I wasn't really up on the technique.  Essentially it's Cyclocross without barriers or dirt.  Local cycling could'a-been Matt Bright was there barking out pointers that usually ended up with me pulling into the belligerent wind out of the north.  I stayed at the front, trading pulls with Matt and a guy named Seth for eleven laps.  Then on the final lap, Seth, Matt, and 70 year old Stan Swallow sucked my doors off in the last half block to the finish.  Lessons learned in my first crit.  Don't ever pull.
Due to pretty strict adherence to my diet that day, I had not eaten since lunch, and was in a pretty serious calorie deficit.  The race, the rest of the ride, and the spin class I rocked in the morning had taken their toll.  On the ride back home which was almost entirely into the wind, I started to fade fast.  Made it home, and inhaled a bunch of pasta, white bread, shrimp, M&M's, a protein shake, some crackers, some cookies, and another fistful of M&M's.  The bonk took over, it couldn't be helped.  After that binge, I sat down on the couch and was unconscious by 8:45 pm.  I just didn't have the energy to take tasteful topless images of myself last night.
But, I managed to get them today.

First the "before" image from February 13:

Note the sad face and prominence of "Hairy Belly-fonte".
Now the "during" image from today:

Through the magic of television, I have lost almost 25 pounds.  Through the magic of my Wahl home hair cutting trimmers, I have lost some belly-fur.
There is something about taking camera phone pictures of yourself in a bathroom that makes you feel like you should be on some sex-offender registry. But I think it would be even more humiliating to say "Honey, could you take some pictures of me with my shirt off?"
So the question will be "Are you sucking it in?"  The answer will be yes. But in the interest of truth in journalism here is what remains:

It has been a long time since I was worrying about pinching an inch.  Since the late 90's I've been grabbing a slab.  It's still there, but my umbilical hernia scar is starting to be above my bellybutton again instead of inside it. Baby steps.
I made it to the gym this morning, but keeping with tradition started the weekend binge a little early with a Friday morning breakfast burrito.  I am ashamed to admit, that after the first one, I was so hungry still that I pulled into another breakfast burrito hotspot and got another one.  The two of them managed to tide me over until evening, but since my family dragged me to the worst movie I have ever seen, I didn't get an evening workout in.  Then we followed up the popcorn with a trip to Coney's and a Sonoran Dog. Don't you judge me.  It's the weekend.  And that sucker was delicious.
Planning to get in a big ride tomorrow, of course then I have to attend a Brother-In-Law's surprise birthday party at Up-Chuck-A-Rama.  Yeah, we're classy like that.
Morning Weigh In:

• 175.6(no change)
• 21.2%
• Total Weight Loss:24,2

Day 63

I'm learning fun little things about my body every day.
Today I learned that when I am tired, other parts of my body compensate for weak or straining muscles.  Such was the case when I was pushing for the elusive "just one more" shoulder press, eyes bulging out of my head, shaking arms, and then my back did something I didn't enjoy.  Not sure what exactly, but when I stood up, my head was no longer able to pivot independently from the rest of my body.  Laid down and tried to stretch or twist or somehow put something back where it should be, but the run home from the gym, and the remaining work day were endured, not relished like usual.  A few thousand milligrams of Ibuprofen later and I'm more or less back to normal.  And I've learned that less is less, and more usually isn't worth it.
I was feeling well enough for a quick ride after work.  Jeff and I took the fixies up to Alpine for some slow burn. Here's a tip, even if you only have one gear, and no freewheel, keep your chain clean.  It's amazing how much better the Langster rolls with a blinging chain. It was sort of a blustery Pooh-bear day, but we beat the real wind home by a few minutes. Well I did.  Jeff stuck with me all the way back to my house, and then had to fight the headwind for two miles back to his house.  I got a text saying he had been brought to a complete stop by the wind twice before he got home.
MATURE CONTENT WARNING: Tomorrow I will be posting a "during" photo of me with my shirt off.  There will be hairy nipples.  You have been warned.
Morning Weigh-In:

• 176.4
• 21.4%
• Total Weight Loss:23.4

Day 62

Hey look at me! Two days in a row.
It's getting sad at spin class.  No exaggeration, there were four dudes there for the 5:30 class this morning.  No women.  Not even our dear friend Spazzy MacGoo.  She is a woman who is entirely too enthusiastic.  She's not really loud, but she has hair that's long enough to need to be tied back, but for some reason she refuses to.  She bobs and weaves like Muhammed Ali post-parkinsons.  Her hair dangles in front of her face like a sheepdog and she bounces  along to the music like the front row at a Quiet Riot concert.
Whoops, I got sidetracked.  Anyway, like I said.  Four chubby dudes in a class with thirty bikes.  Might have something to do with the fact the 60% of the bikes are broken in some manner or another.  Nice to see our membership is going to pay for the half dozen adolescent girls minding the front desk in the evening.
Speaking of the evening, my new favorite thing to do is run to the gym, lift, then run home.  It's only about a mile or so from my house.  That way, before any of my tendons or joints completely betrays me, I'm there, and all warmed up to lift.  The downside is I sweat like queer eating a hot dog when I start lifting.  I spent nearly as much time wiping down equipment tonight as I did lifting. Which is not to say I didn't get anything done.  A solid hour of elevated heart rate and pushing until failure.  I'll be sore in the morning which will suck, since I'm supposed to  meet Jeff to lift at 6am.
Feeling totally back in the swing though.  Sticking to the diet, packing lousy tasteless lunches, which is making me much more productive at work because there's no reason to linger over bland chicken and an apple.  Maybe I'll get a raise.
Killed it at the weigh-in this morning.  New low*.
Morning Weigh-In:

• 177.2*
• 23.5%(?)
• Total Weight Loss:22.6

Day 57-61 (Two Months, Give Or Take)

I guess I don't really feel like I've reached the 60 day mark, since my total includes the four day binge at the beginning.  I guess I feel that way because I feel stupid that the 60 day mark came and went with me sitting on the couch with tortilla chip crumbs all over my shirt.
Yes, despite the supposed motivation of "The Crusher", I didn't really make good on the whole being inspired thing.  In fact I spent the end of last week and into the weekend doing jack-squat.  And eating like  Rulon Gardner on the hidden binge cam.  The "holding steady" thing lulled me into a false sense of security.  That, coupled with the weather from last week made the couch look awfully damn inviting.  I found myself not weighing because I was dreading what it would tell me.  So I hadn't weighed since last time I posted (Wednesday of last week). Even with the Crusher looming a mere 14 weeks or so away I wasn't really giving it my best effort. Or any effort for that matter.
But, with the shame that only two cups of gravy poured over a pork roast for Sunday dinner can provide, I started this week with the motivation that I should have had last week.  My lovely wife got behind me too, when last night she suggested ice cream as a farewell indulgence before the re-introduction to the diet. Ice Cream is her thing.  Mine was Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs.
Woke up this morning and met Jeff at the gym.  We lifted for an hour.  Okay, we probably actually lifted for thirty or forty minutes and shot the shit for the balance of the time we spent there.  But I'm counting it as an hour.
When you've been off your diet for a couple weeks, the diet stuff in the fridge isn't very appealing.  Both because you've been crushing carbs and fats, and because it's old and stale.  Nibbled on a nasty lunch of rubbery carrots, questionably fresh strawberries, and my old friend grilled chicken breast.  I didn't even remember to grab my travel bottle of Cholula.  It was a hard day.
But, it got better when I got home.  Jeff was feeling spunky and wanted to ride after work.  The weather was finally in favor of cycling so we rode up to Timp Cave and back. A twenty-ish mile trip from my house.  It honestly felt good to be back in the swing of two-a-days.  Plus with no wind, and a little sunshine it just felt good to be out on a bike period.
I came home and my long suffering and supportive wife made a fritatta that we split for dinner.  It looked suspiciously like an omelet, but it makes her feel all Fancy Nancy to call it a fritatta so I'll let her have it.
The good news is, that despite last week, I had only a minor gain this morning, and was actually back down this afternoon.
For those keeping track, the goal is 165.
And just to keep you thirsty for more, when I reach the adjusted 60 day mark(day 64) I will post hot topless pics. Of me, just so we're clear.
Morning Weigh-In:

• 181
• 20.5%
• Total weight loss:18.8

Day 55-56

In full Crusher mode now.  I have decided I need to reconnect with my diet.  I had begun to think that since I was holding steady with my weight, that I would slide a little on the food side of things and let the increased mileage I was doing on the bike do it's job as the weather got warmer.  That plan was working, until I got all geeked out on the Crusher.
Now I have several anxieties to address.  The most pressing of which is the altitude.  The highest point of the race is around 11,500 ft.  I'm not sure I have ever pedaled a bike at that altitude.  The closest I have come is a trip to Brianhead last summer.  We shuttled(as in drove) our bikes to the top of the ski resort, then pedaled maybe a half mile to the top of the Dark Hollow trail.  That half mile had my eyes bulging and chest heaving. Like that scene in Total Recall when Ahhnold is exposed to Mars' atmosphere. Luckily the next part of the ride was basically an elevator shaft. Two summers ago, I haphazardly joined a group of social deviants for the Depic(Dipshit Epic) which started at Alta, then pedaled up over Catherine's Pass which I think was about 10,000 ft.  I crested the pass with a splitting headache and a minor cardiac arrhythmia.  The highest point of my "regular" riding is up American Fork Canyon which I believe doesn't take me any higher that 8,000 ft.
So the question is, how do I prepare for such a ride?  I say ride because I really have no delusions of being a contender of any kind in the race.  I just don't want to be the guy in the fetal position on the side of the road  waiting for emergency medical technicians.  I've done eighty miles before, no sweat.  I've done a lot of climbing in a day, though I didn't spend most of that time at altitude.
I believe popular opinion is that I need to sleep high, train low.  I've got train low covered.  But how do I sleep high?  With limited vacation days, spending the preceding weeks in Park City doesn't seem like a viable option.  I suppose I'm just resigned to a painful, terrible, time in the Tushars.  Can't wait.
So for now my plan is this.  Get back on the diet.  It's easier to haul 160 some odd pounds up that mountain than it is to haul 170 some odd pounds.  Ride a lot of distance, with a lot of climbing.  Luckily, I don't have to travel far to find hills to ride up.  And with the snow beginning to recede, I'll soon be able to climb higher longer.  Understand, that I am still planning on registering in my age group, not the Pro/open category.  Essentially the "Sport" class.  I am and always will be a weekend warrior at best.  But I want to make a reasonable showing.
Pray for this sinner, now and at the hour of my death, Amen.
Morning Weigh-In:

• 180.2
• 21.0%
• Total Weight Loss: 19.6

Day 53-54

Officially slacking.  All around.  After my ride Saturday, I was feeling pretty superior to all the chubby folks out there.  Then I spent the entire day Sunday napping, and eating cinnamon rolls, with cream cheese frosting.  In my defense I was recovering from self-performed-surgery.  You see, I have a genetic disposition referred to as "covered in moles and skin-tags".  It's really pretty gross.  For years I have had a huge one in my "down there" region.  I had a little bout of insomnia Saturday night and was on the couch watching TV. I also have a propensity for scratching my gear when I'm mindlessly watching television.  At 2:30 in the am I decided to bust out the scalpel and take that sucker off.  I nearly died.  Aron Ralston ain't got nothing on me.  Would it make you think I was a little more hard core if I told you I did it solely for the weight loss benefits?  Maybe not for the weight loss, but definitely for the vanity of the thing.  Looking good naked is in both the mission statement and masthead of this little endeavor.
I did manage to make it to the gym this morning, lifted for an hour and must have done something wrong because when I got home my back was all screwed up.  I haven't had this much back pain in years.  I don't do anything that really strains your back.  Mostly machines, bench press, you know, sissy stuff.  I did do a few pull ups this morning, and by a few I mean my sets went eight, then five, then three.  But I can't see how that would have caused my spine to buckle.  Also, I have decided not to do pull-ups anymore.
Breakfast was allright, but since I was rushing at lunch, I hit the Maverik for some hot counter fare.  Not my best food decision ever.  Nothing called a "Steak and Cheese Bundle" can be a healthy food choice.  Also, I'm not sure there was anything I would consider steak or cheese in that bundle.
With my motivation waining I came home and plopped down in front of the computer.  And like a pillar of light from the heavens, the site for the "Crusher In The Tushar" is finally up.
Historically, the only bike races I enter are the weird ones.  If it's just a contest to see who's best at exercising I don't have much interest.  Add in some snow or adverse conditions, a 24 hour relay, a slingshot biathlon, anything to make it unique and you have my attention.  The Crusher had me at Hello.
Billed as a Roadirt race, not even the choice of  what type of bike to ride is clear.  You start in beautiful downtown Beaver, Utah, and from there climb 12,350 feet on a combination of dirt roads and paved roads to Eagle Point ski resort.  There is just something effed up about that.  And that something is why I am totally down with this race.  I intend to ride my Cyclocross bike. Skinny tires, and a good five or six pounds lighter than any mountain bike I've ever owned.  The drop bars mean I can get low on the descents.  I may consider putting on a triple.  But that might be a little too immasculating. Not like admitting to the world you cut a skin-tag off you nutsack with a razor for vanity's sake.
Now I have a real reason to get skinny.
Morning Weigh-In:

• 180.4
• 21.2%
• Total Weight Loss: 19.6

Day 48-52

I confess.  I have somewhat abandoned the diet portion of this uhhh, diet.  Not permanently mind you.  But, through a combination of laziness, several offers of free lunch, and one Friday afternoon "screw it" lunch at Rocky Mountain Wing Shak I reached the end of the week without having any honest to goodness diet days.  But here's the thing.  I'm holding steady under 180 pounds.
I am also riding a lot more which makes a difference.  Having a new road bike has made the road seem much more appealing.  Not that I am abandoning mountain biking by any means.  But with Lambert Park being the only nearby singletrack that's viable.  The hum of skinny tires on asphalt under a sexy new bike is currently a little more enticing.  Tuesday ZenMasterKenny called me about an evening ride up Suncrest.  Felt good, and I learned that the new rig descends like a fallen angel(that's a good thing). When the weather got fantastic on Thursday, I had an appointment to install a new sink for my in-laws and didn't ride.  On Friday, with the weather still being fantastic, I cut out of work early to take advantage.  I had also recently acquired a Garmin Edge 500 GPS computer.  Which is now the coolest thing I own. Check this out.  There is no BS'ing with this thing.  It tracks my heart rate, speeds, % grade, cadence, everything and puts it on the web for all to see.  If you thought I was annoying before with the LoseIt updates on Facebook, wait till you've had a week or so of "look what I rode" updates.
The good news is I haven't had to make a return to running since before I went to Fruita.  My knees, hips, and tendons thank me for that.  Covering twenty five miles in the same time it takes me to cover 6 is always going a win in my book.
This morning the good weather looked to be hanging around for at least enough time to get a good ride in. Cobourn came down into God's Country and we headed up over Suncrest again and into Not God's Country.  Looped down through Sandy, then over to Redwood and headed back south. Redwood has seen some significant improvement south of Riverton these days, and despite being a windy bitch, it was a good ride.  That's two for two road rides with Cobourn which have resulted in flats, so I may never ride with him again.
After the ride, I had to go wrestle the Roto-Tiller at my Dad's so they could plant their garden, then came home and got the Christmas lights down.  Yeah, I know.
All in all a pretty good week.  No major losses, but no gains at all.  In fact, after my ride up to Tibble Fork yesterday I stepped on the scale and saw 177.  Then I ate dinner and it disappeared again.
Still hitting the gym for spin or weights in the early morning.  When it starts being somewhat light at 6 am I will give up Spin class FOREVER. Or at least until next winter.  Pray for me to be able to get my shit together diet wise, and maybe I'll start losing again.
Morning Weigh In:

• 178.2
• 21.3%
• Total Weight Loss: 21.4

Day 42-47

Does it seem like it's getting fewer and farther between on this thing?  Laziness isn't just an attitude, it's a state of mind.  Long story short, I started my "vacation" a little early, and Thursday night Kellie and I went out with the boys and some of the wives for all you can eat sushi. It was awesome.  Go to Sushi House in American Fork and ask for the Max Roll.  It's not on the menu.
Packed up Friday morning and headed for Fruita, CO.  I'm not overly proud of my road food choices.  Let's just say Cheez-It's and Nibs were consumed.  Then things really went to hell.  After a quick "welcome to Fruita" ride on Horsethief Bench and Rustlers Loop, we all went to Tapatio's and got some good old fashioned mexican chow.  My litmus test for mexican restaurants is Chili Colorado.  They passed.  And I later passed.  Several times.  It was like I was on one of those vision quests that Amish kids take before they commit to a life of buggies and buttons.  The next morning there were sausage croissants at the continental breakfast.  Smash Burger in Grand Junction on our way back from the Tabeguache systems, and then I split a pizza with Ben for dinner at 9:00 pm.  More sausage croissants on Sunday, followed by another trip out to Tabeguache but with a little more climbing this time.  Taco Bell for lunch.  Then back out to the Kokopelli trails.  Once we'd had enough, Ryan Thompson slapped the Honda Hybrid on the hind quarters and we headed for home.(It took six gallons of gas to get to Fruita and run around town all weekend.)  Slightly better than any of the 12-14 mpg dinosaurs I drive)  When I pulled into the driveway Kellie came out and offered up the remaining 20 of the 50 McNuggets that she and the kids had gotten for dinner.  I'm not sure if I'm more disappointed in her for sabotaging my diet even more, or for going to McDonald's on the Lord's day.  I guess I have to say the sabotaging since I was just getting home from a mountain bike trip myself.  Then I ate the 20 McNuggets.
When I look at it all together like that.  It looks even worse than it felt while I was doing it.
I couldn't bear to step on the scale last night so I waited till this morning.
What was the damage?  Nothing.  I broke dead even from the last time I recorded my weight.  Do you believe in miracles?
Morning Weigh In:

• 179.6
• 20.4%
• Total Weight Loss: 20.2

Day 41

I got up from the computer last night, shamefully walked upstairs and flopped down on the couch.  The kids had made popcorn and I couldn't resist the temptation so I made a bag for me and the Misses.  I began feel an overwhelming sense of self loathing as the minutes ticked by on the clock.  The gym closes at 10 pm and it was now after 9.  Since I had lifted in the morning I figured I needed some cardio.  But there were no spin classes, and I couldn't face the treadmill or the stupid grey track.  Who the hell's idea was it to paint that track the color of depression anyway? Also, now that I have tasted the joy of riding my bike outside it is even more difficult for me to get excited about sitting on the trainer. Then I had a revelation.  I had seen it once before in a film or something.  People can, under extreme circumstances, run OUTSIDE!  Thankfully there was nothing else left to watch on the DVR so my schedule was open.
I jumped up, and after a brief but pointed discussion about where the responsibilities lie regarding laundry protocol in our house, changed into my running ensemble.  I don't really own any running specific duds, but I have my stinky gym shorts, the cross trainer shoes I bought so I wouldn't have to wear skate shoes to the weight room anymore, and various bike shirts that work for most any athletic endeavor.  They work, but most of them look kind of silly unless you're on a bike.  Grabbed a long sleeve number that I avoid in any situation where people might be able to see my gut and headed out the door.

Observations on running:

1. Running outside is exponentially better than running inside in any form. Just like cycling.
2. Running is more conducive to headphones than cycling.  Headphones make any form of exercise more tolerable.
3. Running in the cold is much more of a no-brainer than cycling in the cold.  It is possible to run in shorts and one layer of shirt and still break a sweat, even when it is 34 degrees.
4. Running is the same kind of boring no matter what road you are running on.  Therefore, you can run anywhere.
5. Running is way more boring than riding a bike. It gives you too much time to contemplate the mailbox, street sign, house, dog, streetlight, parked car, etc.  Because it takes you at least a minute to pass it.
6. Running outside from your front door, requires you to keep running until you're done.  Because you have to get home.  Especially if you don't bring a your phone.

I set out at what I figured was a conservative pace.  I started on the route that I usually take to head up to Alpine on my bike.  East on 500 North up to the Rec Center. Then I headed over towards Art Dye Park.  I ran across the park and up to Murdock Canal on the north end.  At which point, I drained a little water weight, turned around and headed back.  If you live near Art Dye Park here are some words of advice.  Don't let your kids go there unsupervised.  Because if they are spending time there outside of Little League, it means they are either smoking pot, or practicing heavy petting.  I spent a few late nights there setting up the Clammy Cross course, and at 10 pm last night, both were a Bishop's nightmare.  You're welcome.
I was optimistic.  Feeling pretty proud of myself at maintaining a consistent pace and not suffering the joint pain that had accompanied all my prior attempts at running. I opted for the flatter route home, which took me over to 300 North.  Then at about Forbes Elementary(approximately the 4.5 mile mark) my right knee buckled like  a waterboarded GITMO prisoner.  Instantly.  I stopped and stretched it out a little, walked a few paces, then resumed a very deliberate, slow jog.  When I caught my shadow in the streetlights, I looked like a senior citizen.  All I was missing was the full length sweat pants and terry sweatband.  But I could go several blocks before I would have another knee episode.  I didn't want to walk the rest.  Mostly because walking hurt at least as bad as the senior citizen run I was devolving into.  What's more, walking and the Senior Citizen run were causing a ton of pain in my Achilles tendons and whatever tendon runs just outside my wedding tackle and down to the inside of my knee.  The last few blocks to my house involve a couple short downhills, which were terrifying.  I limped back into the front door after a little over an hour running and swore I'd never do that again.
I was a little late for spin class this morning, and then got stuck on one of the garbage bikes.  My quads and calves weren't terribly sore, but my hips and knees were killing me.  Luckily I got to spend the day climbing up and down various ladders so things didn't get much better at work.
After work, I went to the gym and spent some time in the weight room.  Getting my blood pumping did seem to alleviate some of the pain in my joints.  When I got home, I felt guilty about making a pig of myself at a carb and dairy heavy dinner.  My legs seemed a little better, so I thought I'd give it one more try but over a shorter distance.  I even took my crippled old dog as a pacesetter.  This proved difficult, because I spent the first half of the two miles I ran pulling him away from every vertical surface he could lift his leg on.  Then I spent the second half tugging on the leash to motivate a poor old dog who doesn't seem to have any more natural affinity for running than I do.  Oh, and my legs were killing me again.
Running is stupid.
Morning Weigh-In:

• 178.6
• 21.3%
• Total Weight Loss:21.2

Days 37-40(Relapse)

With the joy of having reached a milestone, I went to bed Thursday with high hopes of continuing along the straight and narrow path.  Or at least the path that would make me straight and narrow, wait, that's not right.
Anyway, I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep.  At 4 am I decided that if I was still awake at 5 am I would just get up and go to the gym.  I fell asleep at 4:30.
So I missed Friday's morning workout. But when I did wake up, I jumped on the scale and was only up a couple pounds.  Considering all the salty, fatty, meat I had inhaled the night before I was pleasantly surprised.  Then for some reason I went rogue.  Breakfast burrito and a Rockstar.  A Rojo Mole burrito for lunch( I recommend El Gallo Giro in Provo for a tasty burrito), and pizza for dinner.  In my defense, the pizza followed a decent hour or so on my new bike, which I love.  Here's proof:

That would be Kris Nosack in the Utah Velo Club Shorts, Jeff in the Clammy Chamois kit, and Paul Zimm in the front pulling. It was a windy, gloomy ride, but so good to be out on the new rig.
We discussed getting together with Stan for the Velo Club ride Saturday, but figured we'd wait and see what the weather was like. In the morning, Paul text me that he was staying inside rather than fight the wind.  So Jeff and I loaded up the bikes and headed up to Cobourn's house up by the U to ride with Cobes, Moody, Lou, and some of their significant others.  I have ridden with Cobes and Moody a lot, and Lou once or twice.  Lou is one of those freakishly skinny, fast guys. Lou is also a much friendlier person than either Cobes or Moody.  We were hoping to keep the pace "moderate" and for the most part it was.  We rolled down to 9th East and turned south.  We stayed on 9th all the way into Draper where we flipped around and rode back up Wasatch Blvd all the way back to Cobes house.  Brutal headwind for the southbound leg, followed by a nice tailwind for all the climbing heading north.  That was until we hit a wall of arctic wind and snow flurries just before Parley's Canyon.  It was all we could do to make it out alive.  When faced with such harrowing conditions, the only logical thing to do aprés ride is pound a big nasty Garlic Burger at the Fiddler's Elbow. Then come home and load up the kids and head to Arby's for dinner.  Then eat a bucket of popcorn and a box of Milk Dud's at a movie.  I barely made it out alive.
Bear in mind, I was not weighing myself this weekend.  I figured I would binge without remorse and let the chips fall where they may.
Sunday was spent in front of the open fridge door.  I ate nothing satisfying, but at least I ate a lot of it.  Two-fisting chips, cookies, and Almond Joy "Pieces", which are little M&M sized candies that taste like Almond Joy(duh).
So this morning, I was surprised to see I was only up to 181.  I jumped up, and headed to the gym, sans Jeff. But then for some reason, My decision making faltered again.  Instead of packing my lunch, I went to Dairy Queen.  Don't ask me why.  It started out okay, they had a panini type of turkey sandwich.  But I got it with fries, and then was starving so I ordered a single cheeseburger as a chaser.  Then I got home and had pancakes and eggs with the family.
But I fully intend to go to the gym tonight.  The lousy weather is pushing me indoors once again.
I feel better getting that all off my chest.  Thank you for listening.
Morning Weigh-In:

• 181
• 22.1%
• Total Weight Loss:18.8

Day 36: Happy St Fatty's Day

So many things went right today.  First off, it was St Patrick's Day.  Second, the instructor for the spin class threw her back out, so they just opened the room so we could spin in peace.  Third, I came home and had broken the 180 barrier. 

178.6 to be exact.

Fourth, my bike came in...

Sexy right? I snuck out of work early and stopped by the shop hoping that maybe it came in, but not really expecting to see it.  Jeff showed up about the time I opened the box, and we got it all built up.  This is the nicest road bike I have ever owned.  Just like me, there are a few places it could stand to lose a few, wheels being the most apparent, but as is, it comes in at a respectable 17 lbs.  The dollars to grams ratio was a little high for the higher class builds so I went with what I could afford.
The worst part of the day, was that I had a new bike, but couldn't ride it because I had to get to the McCarrel family St Patrick's Day Hullaballoo.  Basically just a feast.  St Patricks Day is a bigger deal than Thanksgiving in my family.  What started as a lark when we were all little has evolved into an important family tradition.  There is basically a complete Thanksgiving dinner.  Turkey, ham, potatoes, etc.  Then corned beef and cabbage, Colcannon potatoes, soda bread and anything that can be dyed green.  Somewhere Key Lime Pie got mixed into the deal, with brownies, cupcakes and cookies for good measure.
My original plan was for today to mark the end of my program.  Lose as much as I could until St Patty's and then give up.  But with the progress I've made, I want to take it as far as I can.  My goal is 165.  I haven't weighed that since the Clinton administration. (Damn Republicans)  I was going to gorge myself tonight, but I felt like I needed to call my sponsor or something when I started to fill my plate.  I managed to show some restraint.  Ate almost exclusively protein.  Unfortunately, that included the corned beef, and the ham.  Both fatty, salty as hell, and dee-licious.  The only carbs I really caved in on were about four pieces of Irish Soda Bread.  It is a weakness.  Okay, I had a couple cookies, a cupcake, and a piece of Key Lime Pie too, but it's a holiday for Pat's sake.  Can you blame me?
I fully expect to weigh 183 in the morning. I can already feel my gut swelling.  I felt extra sexy all day until after the feast.  So many women were checking me out, honestly it was embarrassing.  But it looks like I'll be back in Clark Kent mode tomorrow.  And back to the gym.
Get back on that pony and ride bitches.
Morning Weigh In:

• 178.6
• 21.9%
• Total Weight Loss: 21.2 

Day 35

Lowlight of the day: I literally ate prison food for lunch.  I had packed a lunch and was planning on eating it.  But come lunch time I was working behind the secure gate of the Slate Canyon Youth Detention Facility in Provo.  It was easier to stay with the maintenance guy who was required to be with me at all times than to leave lockup and eat in my van.  It didn't taste too bad, a version of the classic "Shit On A Shingle"  Chipped beef or maybe Chopped Salisbury Steak, not sure.  I didn't get the toast that was made available but I did help myself to some tomato and onion salad, steamed broccoli/cauliflower/carrots and a scoop of mashed potatoes.  If I wasn't trying to lose weight it would have been a perfectly balanced and healthy lunch.  And it was free.  I even got a little carton of milk just like all the other elementary school kids.  Although these particular elementary school kids were in leg shackles and jump suits.
Highlight of the day:  I ordered a new road bike today.  A Tarmac Expert.  I am pretty stoked, it's the first carbon road bike I've ever had, and it's also the first new road bike I've ever had.  My previous bike was a Frankenstein affair that I cobbled together out of  ebay parts and mail order discounts.  It was a decent bike, but tooth-chippingly stiff and aggressive.  I spent all last season on Jeff's Cervelo Soloist, which was a nicer bike but offered the same ride characteristics as my '01 Allez-Frankenbike.  Having done a few rides on a Roubaix Demo Bike in the past couple weeks, I opted for the slightly more agressive geometery and stiffer frame of the Tarmac.  It's a compromise of sorts. So stoked.
I was on track to be in the 170's today but it was not to be.  I still had a loss, but it didn't dip quite as low as I was hoping.  After prison lunch and more lifting than cardio today, we'll see.  Hopefully it will be a St. Patrick's Day Miracle and I'll wake up in the morning to those blessed numbers "179.9"  Because either way, I will be fatter on Friday than I am tomorrow morning.
Morning Weigh-In:

• 180.2
• 21.5%
• Total Weight Loss: 19.6

Day 34

Today could have gone very badly as far as food was concerned.  I had a training meeting for work that lasted all day with lunch provided.  These are usually nasty buffets.  I didn't want to pack a lunch in there out of some weird pride thing so I figured I would make the best of whatever was offered.  I had a protein shake on my way there and avoided the doughnut/danish breakfast.  Then luckily they cheaped out on the lunch and had sandwiches.  I didn't do awesome, but it was a turkey sandwich.  Okay it was a turkey,avocado and bacon sandwich.  But I punched it all in and was still on track for the day, even with the bag of chips and three cookies I ate along with it.
I had been to spin class this morning which gave me a good headstart on the calorie count.  And I was planning a  ride up Suncrest with some guys from the shop after work which is always interesting.  When I got home Kellie had made this new salad thing with orzo, chicken,some veggies and this rice vinegar dressing.  Supposed to be around 250 calories a serving and it was good.  So good I crushed two servings of it and headed out the door for Suncrest.  We started by climbing Fort Canyon, then went up "the wall" and headed for Suncrest.  This is only the second time I have ever ridden Suncrest.  And just like I remembered, it sucked.  But I felt decent considering I was riding a 19 pound Roubaix that was a size too small, and I am still pretty tubby.  Legs felt good all the way to the last grunt before the top.  That is where I watched Kenny's narrow little ass scamper away from me.  It felt good to do a "real" ride though.
And yes kids, my weight was back down this morning.  I must be dehydrated again.
Morning Weigh-In:

• 182
• 22.1%
• Total Weight Loss: 17.8

Day 32 and 33

After a day of defending myself to unseen internet bastards, they got their way and Sunday morning I had gained...wait for it...SEVEN POUNDS SUNDAY MORNING!!!
That's right, in 24 hours I gained seven pounds. Even though I was comfortably under my calorie budget, had worked out Saturday morning, and had a positive mental attitude.  It got me to thinking.
All this time that people have been telling me that my weight loss represented only water weight loss, I am starting to believe that just the opposite is true.  On a normal day before I began trying to lose weight.  I would pee maybe 4-6 times a day.  Morning, Lunch, home from work,  mid-evening, before bed etc.  When I am on my game with the diet, eating fresh fruits and vegetables, lean protein prepared at home, mostly unprocessed foods.  I pee like a race horse. Constantly. To the point where it gets embarrassing walking past the same people to go to the bathroom at least once an hour.  When I pee,  it is clear and pure as the driven snow.  I have not been taking any Hydroxycut, Phen-phen, HCG, Viagra, Cialis, Restasis, Gyne-Lotrimin, nothing.  Just eating well.
My theory is that my regular diet is packed with Sodium.  Fast food, highly processed stuff, Hell, even energy gels and recovery drinks are loaded with sodium.  So last weekend when I rode to Vernon, I ate a pack of Margarita Shot Bloks(with extra sodium to prevent cramping), then went to sushi where everything was drenched in soy sauce.  On Sundays, I hit the forbidden fruit pretty hard. All of this drives up my sodium.
I think it makes me retain water like a pre-menstrual camel.  After Dickie's BBQ Saturday night, popcorn at the movie, popcorn at home, a couple of turkey weiners for lunch, and fast food for dinner Sunday,.  I tried to remember and can only think of three times that I pee'd Sunday.
Couple that with the fact that this morning, I was already back down 3.2 pounds.  And after a day of eating right again, I'm within two pounds of my lowest weight Saturday morning.  And pee'd like a rain-bird all day long.
No need to post Sunday's weigh-in, but rest assured it was high.  Plus I have to pee, so here's today's.

Morning Weigh-In(Monday):

• 184.5
• 21.4%
• Total Weight Loss:15.3

Day 31

I had made no great plans for today.  I had an invite from Bill to go mountain biking on the Provo BST, but with a couple household chores and the new St Patrick's Day version of Angry Birds Seasons coming out, I had a pretty full itinerary.
I woke up at a leisurely 7 am and decided I would grab a quick ride on the Langster.  I've got a nice little route up through Alpine that is my go-to.  I weighed in while changing and noted a 1 pound loss from the day before.  Normally I would be heading to the gym or spin class and I would wait to post my weight until after I got back to cheat the number down a little.  But I recorded the 180.8 and headed out for my ride.  A little chilly out at 36 degrees.  And before the sun broke out from behind the clouds, my fingers were getting pretty cold.  I have no idea if it's right, but I always feel like I'm burning more calories on a cold ride.  The theory being that goosebumps and shivering equate to a little more fuel burned.  It's a nice thought anyway.  By the time I turned around at Lambert Park and started heading home, the sun was coming out and all the trophy wives were out jogging and the weekend warriors were out on their Madone's. The correlation of Madone's to guys in full winter tights,lobster gloves and balaclava's is uncanny. It was a pleasant morning ride.
The ride was made even more pleasant when I came home, stripped off and jumped on the scale. 179.8  I have not seen those numbers, in that order for many years.  Granted, I was certainly a little dehydrated, and after a "weekends off" binge dinner with the family at Dickie's Pit BBQ(terrible service and mediocre food) I don't expect the number to stand in the morning.  But it is encouraging, nay, inspiring to know that it is physically possible for me to get on the scale and see anything under 180.  Normally, I find these little benchmarks to be a good excuse to end a diet.  I couldn't stop smiling after I got off the scale.  And now I'm wondering how far I can take this.  My theoretical goal was 165 but I didn't really have any intentions of reaching it.  Now I'm more than halfway there and I am renewed.
It didn't hurt that after my weigh-in my wife stuck her head into the shower to announce that our latest contest to see who could stay mad the longest was over and I had won.  I think she likes the idea of having a skinny man around because in between Angry Birds levels she sent the kids outside in favor of an Afternoon Delight.  Rawr.  According to LoseIt, that's like 37 calories burned.  47 if you're doing it right.

Morning Weigh-In:

• 180.8
• 22.1%
• Total Weight Loss: 19

Day 30 (Not Quite A Month)

So Friday(yesterday) I marked the 30th day of this little project.  Though in truth it is only the 26th day of the diet portion.  If you'll remember I had a four day binge before I started that actual diet and exercise regime.  Monday should mark the technical four-week mark of the program.
I did something that is apparently annoying to other people.  I set my LoseIt account up to post to my Facebook feed.  It posts weight gains and losses, exercise, and the childish little badges it "awards" you for progress.  I thought it would be another step towards shaming my failures.  But now I see that it posts a lot.  I will probably keep it going for the short term, if it gets too annoying I will turn it off.
The other side-effect of the LoseIt posts is that it brings out the haters.  LoseIt posts: "I just spent 1 hour and 20 minutes biking and burned 1270 calories."  And a litany of Facebook friends comment that my counter is off, and that calorie counting doesn't work.  Okay, Slyfox Moonwillow tells me these things.  And to be fair his training regimen of smoked salmon,Mountain Dew, and Pizza, combined with scooter intervals is working great for him(dripping with sarcasm).
Fact is, I'm sure the numbers aren't dead on.  There is some level of consistency though, and it does seem to factor in things like age and current weight.  This is how Jeff and I can do the exact same exercise and his shows fewer calories burned.  Yet when we are on the treadmills with the heart rate monitors built into the handles, he shows more calories burned for the same workout.
There is one parameter that I trust however.  That scale in the morning.  Whether my calorie math adds up or not, I'm losing weight. Consistently and quickly.  How am I doing it?  Busting my ass, and limiting my calorie intake.
It sounds silly for a tubby guy to say he has a high metabolism.  But the fact that I was logging 5000 calorie days without even trying before this. Coupled with the fact that I hadn't broken 200 pounds seems to give the idea credence.  So it stands to reason that by consuming fewer calories than an average person, and working out twice as much as the average person, it works.
It ain't magic.

Morning Weigh-In:

• 181.8
• 22.1%
• Total Pounds Lost:18

Day 29

Finally broke my previous low.  Dropped 2.8 pounds in 24 hours!  The cool thing is that my appetite has leveled off.  I'm eating according to my self imposed rules and at the end of lunch I'm satisfied.
Spin class by myself today.  Well me, a few spazzy women, and two spazzy men.  Jeff stayed home then ran with his wife.  Traitor.
After work I hustled to get a ride in before the sun went down.  The clouds came out so it wasn't really nice like earlier today, but it wasn't cold.  Things were going great until my front tire blew in Alpine.  This might be the first time I have ever blown a tire on the Langster.  I won't lie I pee'd a little when it went because I was going fast enough that I was having a hard time keeping up with the pedals.  Also it's a little harder to shift your weight off the front wheel until you can get stopped because you have to keep pedaling.  I survived though and only lost a few minutes swapping the tube.  Made it up to Lambert and flipped on the blinky for the ride home.  I got home just as the last sunlight faded.  I love feeling like I stole a ride from the day.
Another good day food wise.  Just ate two eggs on some flatbread for dinner and I'm done.  Ended up with about a 150 calorie deficit on the day.  Hopefully, I'll have another good loss tomorrow before the weekend.
Morning Weigh-In:

• 182.6*
• 23.4%
• Total Weight Loss:17.2

*New low.

Day 28

I am astounded at how hard it has been to re-lose that weight I gained over the weekend.  Since the bulk of it was gained on a bike ride, I may swear off bikes forever.
It is coming off though.  A pound and a half this morning.  The goal of 179.9 by St. Fatty's Day isn't looking so bright now.  That would be six pounds in seven days.  Not too likely.
An early morning meeting kept me from the gym this morning.  I jumped on the trainer for a bit, but had to jump back off before it did any good.
Did really well with food today. Protein shake for breakfast, nothing but veggies, some chicken, and some grapes throughout the day.  I made an improvised shrimp and spinach burrito for dinner before heading to the gym tonight.  Another crowded night in the weight room, though there weren't as many high school kids.
I was harshly reminded that I am not a runner this evening.  After my knee started bugging me again less than a mile into my treadmill time.  Jeff was on the machine next to me apparently not in pain.  Here is a little insight into Jeff.  If he can see your speed on your treadmill, or your resistance on an elliptical, he goes two clicks higher.  I have heard him accused of being too non-competitive, I have not found this to be the case.  He won tonight.  He has a history of running though(that's how he got into the country).  And he has completed several marathons.  He recommended ratcheting up the incline while slowing down the speed.  That bought me another mile, but by the end I was supporting all of my weight on the handrails.  Frowny face.  Bikes make me fat and running makes me crippled.  What's a girl to do?

Morning Weigh-In:

• 185.4
• 23.8%
• Total Weight Loss:14.4

*How'd I do Cobes?

Day 27

Hey hey, I'm writing about day 27, on day 27.  Crazy I know.
Despite the disgusting setback of the weekend.  I am losing again.  Which was a bit of a surprise considering the cupcake situation from last night.  I caused another potential catastrophe this morning when my alarm went off, I reached over and shut it off, and then apparently went right back into R.E.M. sleep.  Next thing I knew it was nearly six a.m. and I had missed the first half of spin class.  Upon realizing this I did the responsible thing and slept another hour.  I like to miss mornings at the gym every once in awhile because it gives Republicanadian Jeff something to feel superior about.  I texted him when I woke up: "overslept". His response: "My loss and your gain".  Dick. He also feels compelled to brag about how little he eats in a day, and the frequency of his marital relations.(I put that in here because I know his wife reads this blog every once in awhile).  For the record it would seem that he's got me beat on both counts.
Even though I'm supposed to be back to the grindstone on the diet, I'm finding that my commitment is waining. I actually packed a regulation diet lunch today.  But poor little Kevin from work was feeling lonely so I felt obligated to go to lunch with him.  The good news is, I found another reasonable fast food lunch today.  The Veggie Burrito at Taco Time is tasty, kind of filling, and under 500 calories.  Did a little research and will be trying the chicken and black bean burrito next.  It's about 400 calories, but is a little smaller.
"Regular dinner" with the family, Chicken and Noodles.  Ended up with about 600 calories for dinner.  I have realized that not working out twice a day makes it tough to come in where I want to for the calorie budget. Obviously I can't workout twice everyday, but I need to make better food choices when I miss or this is going to be a long row to hoe.
I did finally make it to the gym this evening.  I'm starting to truly hate high school kids.  I have a standing rule that I hate other peoples kid anyway, but high school kids in the weight room are the worst.  They take more time to do anything that can be done in front of the mirror because they get distracted checking themselves out.  They do these stupid made-up exercises that emphasize jumping while holding some form of a plate weight(usually the one that I need), and they are always trying to "max-out"  Which seems to take at least 45 minutes to an hour for two of them.  Dude, I don't think your going to get it, you've tried four times.  It serves me right for having a membership to "Average Joe's" gym instead of some high-falutin' gym with more than one bench, but still.  After simulating my normal circuit on the U-gym because of the freaking chess club I headed up to the treadmill.  I had been thinking that I like running on the treadmill.  So tonight I had planned to run 4 miles.  Things were going well until about mile 3.25 when my right knee betrayed me. Suddenly I had a shooting pain down the outside of my knee cap with each step.  I hit the "cool down" button and was trying to limp it when Dave Parmley walked in and reached over and cranked the speed back up.  I almost shot off the back of the treadmill.  Not cool Dave, not cool.
I guess I need to work on my form.

Morning Weigh-In:

• 187.3
• 23.0%
• Total Pounds Lost: 12.5

Day 26

Monday morning, I managed to stall at the very least.  I didn't creep into the one nineties but instead held steady at 188(.4)  I lifted in the morning, but I was shot in the foot by empty cupboards.  I ate lunch at Zupa's for the first time ever.  It just sounded like a girlie-diet type of plus.  But the majority of the menu was cheesy sandwiches and creamy soups.  I ended up getting what seemed like the healthiest sandwich on the menu a turkey,spinach,artichoke panini. I probably could have done without the cheese and pesto sauce, but it tasted good.  I also got a Summer Chicken Salad.  No cheese or croutons or anything on this one and they had a low-fat version of the dressing.  Didn't add it up, but I don't think it was too bad.
For dinner we went to my in-laws.  They were having people over to celebrate their 36th wedding anniversary.  It was a wild-game fajita night.  My FIL is a pretty avid bird hunter so there was a variety of upland birds(chukars,hungarian partridge, and grouse)  I only had one fajita and was pretty proud of myself until the cupcakes came out.  Wasn't exactly master of my domain when the cupcakes came out.
The get-together ran a little late so I didn't make it to the gym last night, and was too lazy to sit on the trainer at 10 pm.

Morning Weigh In:

• 188.4 
• 23.5%
• Total weight loss: 11.4 

Day 23,24, and 25

A little backed up.  A lot has happened, none of it good.
Friday morning, I was up a pound.  This was after doing really well on Thursday.  Okay, I had some pork, and a candy bar.  But I had burned a ton of calories working out.  I'm not sure if my body is starting to anticipate the weekend gluttony and figured it was time to start packing it on or what.  I made a few bad choices Friday.  Chief among them was a breakfast burrito.  In my defense, it was a ham burrito instead of steak,sausage, or bacon.  Jared menu for lunch, and nothing really for dinner.
 
Morning Weigh In:

• 184 (shame)
• 23.5%
• Total weight loss 15.8

Saturday, with a brighter outlook, I woke up and not surprisingly had gained another pound.  Although instead of tucking into another shameful breakfast.  I ate a little peanut butter on some of those nasty flatbread things and packed up some bike food.  I was joining Stan and the Utah Velo Club for the Annual-Sometime-In-February-Ride-To-Vernon-That-Is-Loosely-Associated-With-Brent-Rawlings-Birthday-That-This-Year-Is-Actually-Happening-In-March.  It's an 83 mile ride from Saratoga Springs to Vernon.  The highway through Fairfield is narrow, and loaded with rednecks and 18-wheelers.  So there is safety in numbers to head out that way, and there are usually anywhere from 20 to 50 riders that show up.  I had talked Cobourn into coming so I wouldn't be the only doughy foul mouth on the ride.  He came with on the condition that he could turn around at any point.  This worked fine for me since I was on call for work and taking an 80 mile bike ride is a bit risky.

It was a good ride.  I was pleasantly surprised by my fitness.  Usually this ride doesn't go well for me.  So when I was able to keep up and even do my share of pulling at the front, I was happy.  We had made good time to Five Mile Pass and started making our way towards Vernon.  This section of road is relatively deserted and usually in pretty good shape.  Though this year there were a lot of potholes to be avoided, when we reached Faust, Mephistopheles, err..uh..I mean Cobourn suggested we turn back.  We had reached the 32 mile mark and that makes for a metric century.  Another rider joined us and we fought a stiff headwind all the way  back.  Ate nothing but gels and energy foods while on the bike.  Though we did stop in Cedar Fort and grabbed a little beef jerky and trail mix.  After the ride Cobourn and I went for a some sushi.  I really felt like I had earned it since when I punched in the stats from my ride, I had burned over 3800 calories.  On longer rides like this it's not unusual for me to have lost a few pounds by the time I get home.  I came home and before getting in the shower jumped on the scale. 189 freaking pounds!!!!  I had gained four pounds on the ride.  What the hell!  If anything I should have been a little dehydrated and I'm quite sure that I hadn't eaten four pounds of food.

I am simply at a loss.  I contemplated opening a vein but decided against it.  I ended up going out to eat with the family for dinner which probably didn't help, but all told I still had a 3000 calorie deficit at the end of the day.  I just can't figure out what happened.

Morning Weigh In:

• 185
• 23.1%
• Total Weight Loss 14.8(in the morning)

Sunday I woke up and drug my ass into the bathroom again.  Although I had lost one of the new pounds, I was still up three from the day before, and five from my lowest weight. Even though I take the weekends off, I managed to eat a lot of garbage today.  I wouldn't say a lot in volume, just several things that weren't very good choices.  Some candy, some crackers, a lot of sugar.  I may be back into the 190's tomorrow.  If you hear a mournful howl coming from the direction of American Fork tomorrow around 5 am, it's just me stepping onto the scale.  Oh well, back to chicken and spinach tomorrow. And more importantly, the gym.

Morning Weigh In:

• 188.5
• 22.5%
• Total Weight Loss 11.3