About a week ago, I was laying in bed with the chick I sleep with. We were discussing me being a big fat bag of shit. The subjects varied from "Honey, I'm running out of pants that fit." to "Jeezus, I don't think I can pull off another Crusher from the couch this year."
At this point, the mother of my children looked at me with those please-stay-on-your-side-of-the-bed eyes and said, "You could probably do really well if you'd just try."
Why didn't I think of that?
In the 19 years we have been together, she has seen me go from a 145 pound stud in Levi's 560's and a mullet, to a fat dude with an ear hair problem. I am not sure what in our history together makes her think that I can do anything besides survive a race like the Crusher.
That fact is that all of the big races or rides I have done in my life I have suffered through. Often touting my blue collar work ethic, otherwise known as being too dumb to quit.
The original Depic, the first two Crushers, the Park City Point to Point, every damn 'cross race I have ever done. All of them finished on the verge of, or just beyond the verge of puking.
I have never successfully trained for an event, participated in the event, and had the desired result at the end of the event. I long ago gave up on the fantasy that I have any natural ability or strengths when it comes to sports. I was certifiably terrible at every team sport I ever played. Individual sports were no better. I was a terrible wrestler, a mediocre at best swimmer, and below average at just about everything else I ever tried.
The reason I bore you with my ridiculous sporting career is to illustrate the fact that my wife(and children, and parents, and friends, and strangers) have never seen me excel at anything. I am not a born champion. I came to terms with that a long time ago. My concept of trying remains in the realm of not quitting. Once I begin an event, I will finish, or die trying.
What I think she was talking about was trying BEFORE I begin the event. Not doing it off the couch.
I guess that could work.
Since "The Challenge" issued by my wife, I have had some renewed vigor. I have ridden every day since then. Sometimes twice a day. I mentioned to her that one of the training challenges I face is the guilt of being away from my family...okay not really, but my excessive absence has historically been frowned upon. While she is, for the most part, very supportive of my alternative cycling lifestyle I have, on occasion, found her limits.She didn't really SAY I could spend the next two months training but she didn't say I shouldn't.
In all reality what she did was give me a slight nose tweak and tell me to get off my ass. It may just be exactly what I needed. To know that somebody that cares about me thinks I can do well.
When I was a kid, the often overheard reason my father gave for not attending my various attempts at sports was that he couldn't bear watching his kids fail at something. As an adult, I have figured out that what he thought he was saying was that he cared too much about us to see us hurt, or sad. What he didn't take into account was that to his kids, it sounded dangerously close to "My kids are losers and I don't want to watch that."
My Dad had some interesting parenting techniques, but he is directly responsible for the blue collar work ethic that I spoke of earlier. The plan for now is to combine that work ethic with the confidence gained from being told I can do it.
That and a $200 fat man wager with Doug Kolan.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
No seriously...startiiiiiing NOW.
Two months almost since I felt compelled to explain my lack of effort in diet and training. Not sure what my problem is. Well, I do. It's that I am unable to control myself when it comes to shit food. My other problem is that I am incredibly lazy.
Two things have happened recently that may help to change that. At least the lazy part. First, I got a new mountain bike. A Scott Spark. Another racy-ish 29er. Loving it so far. Going back to a double chainring takes a little getting used to. Recently I figured out that the new clutch rear derailleurs do not tolerate cross chaining. I also figured out that when you just spent a year on a 1x10 you cross chain a lot. No broken chains yet but a lot of swear words. No new swear words just the same ones. New bikes have a positive effect on motivation. The only thing that needs to happen now is for the high country to open up. I am burning out on trails below 6K.
The other positive is that the Murdock Canal trail has been finished. This has helped me rediscover the roadie. I live pretty close to the middle of the trail. The good news is I am remembering that I really like my road bike. A lot. I can head east or west for two distinctly different rides. Both free of cars with the exception of a bunch of intersections in Pleasant Grove. American Fork and Lehi dug tunnels for their intersections. What's your problem PG? East is a rolling but mostly flat run through Pleasant Grove and Lindon. Both times I've ridden it I have opted to push it. In my current state of fitness that isn't saying much but twenty steady miles trying to maintain 20mph is a killer way to start a day. Heading west takes you from the center of American Fork all the way out to Adobe at the north end of Lehi. Going out is generally downhill and fast. But again with smooth asphalt you can push as hard as you want. Right in the middle of that section is the Dry Creek gully. Basically a big pit behind the Smith's on Timpanogos Highway. Down one side then up the other. A firm little kick in the balls to keep you honest. Alternating those two morning rides with the standard loop up through Alpine and occasional climbs up AF Canyon may just get me back into the habit of being late for work. In a good way.
With summer coming I am starting to WANT to ride my bike again. Which is a welcome return to normal. The slow in coming spring for some reason just pushed me onto the couch. Plan is to ride every day. Twice when possible. Road in the morning and dirt in the evening is a great use of a day.
That just leaves diet. I may need an intervention. After a hard ride into a cold headwind that I was honestly pretty proud of this morning. I had a nice healthy breakfast of fruit and yogurt. Followed by two roller-taquitos. Wings and fries for lunch. Two doughnuts in the afternoon. And a sensible dinner. WTF?!?
It's like I want to be fat. Jeff made the astute observation that he could easily out-eat any exercise that he does. Ditto. Historically the only time I gain any ground on my obesity is when I manage to improve my diet. I have done it. I can do it. But I have yet to do it this go around. I improved briefly for a couple weeks a few months ago. Dropped the foamy fat by about 8 pounds. Held it there for a couple more weeks without much riding/training. Then slowly started to eat trash again until soon I was back to crowding the deuce(200#). I have ridden almost every day for the last week or so. Including at least one long dirt ride and several "hard" road rides, but the weight is like a bad one night stand that left me with a treatable but antibiotic-resistant STD. It's about suppression.
Ten weeks til Crusher. Shit.
Two things have happened recently that may help to change that. At least the lazy part. First, I got a new mountain bike. A Scott Spark. Another racy-ish 29er. Loving it so far. Going back to a double chainring takes a little getting used to. Recently I figured out that the new clutch rear derailleurs do not tolerate cross chaining. I also figured out that when you just spent a year on a 1x10 you cross chain a lot. No broken chains yet but a lot of swear words. No new swear words just the same ones. New bikes have a positive effect on motivation. The only thing that needs to happen now is for the high country to open up. I am burning out on trails below 6K.
The other positive is that the Murdock Canal trail has been finished. This has helped me rediscover the roadie. I live pretty close to the middle of the trail. The good news is I am remembering that I really like my road bike. A lot. I can head east or west for two distinctly different rides. Both free of cars with the exception of a bunch of intersections in Pleasant Grove. American Fork and Lehi dug tunnels for their intersections. What's your problem PG? East is a rolling but mostly flat run through Pleasant Grove and Lindon. Both times I've ridden it I have opted to push it. In my current state of fitness that isn't saying much but twenty steady miles trying to maintain 20mph is a killer way to start a day. Heading west takes you from the center of American Fork all the way out to Adobe at the north end of Lehi. Going out is generally downhill and fast. But again with smooth asphalt you can push as hard as you want. Right in the middle of that section is the Dry Creek gully. Basically a big pit behind the Smith's on Timpanogos Highway. Down one side then up the other. A firm little kick in the balls to keep you honest. Alternating those two morning rides with the standard loop up through Alpine and occasional climbs up AF Canyon may just get me back into the habit of being late for work. In a good way.
With summer coming I am starting to WANT to ride my bike again. Which is a welcome return to normal. The slow in coming spring for some reason just pushed me onto the couch. Plan is to ride every day. Twice when possible. Road in the morning and dirt in the evening is a great use of a day.
That just leaves diet. I may need an intervention. After a hard ride into a cold headwind that I was honestly pretty proud of this morning. I had a nice healthy breakfast of fruit and yogurt. Followed by two roller-taquitos. Wings and fries for lunch. Two doughnuts in the afternoon. And a sensible dinner. WTF?!?
It's like I want to be fat. Jeff made the astute observation that he could easily out-eat any exercise that he does. Ditto. Historically the only time I gain any ground on my obesity is when I manage to improve my diet. I have done it. I can do it. But I have yet to do it this go around. I improved briefly for a couple weeks a few months ago. Dropped the foamy fat by about 8 pounds. Held it there for a couple more weeks without much riding/training. Then slowly started to eat trash again until soon I was back to crowding the deuce(200#). I have ridden almost every day for the last week or so. Including at least one long dirt ride and several "hard" road rides, but the weight is like a bad one night stand that left me with a treatable but antibiotic-resistant STD. It's about suppression.
Ten weeks til Crusher. Shit.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Off Again
Crappy week so far. After the "race", I took a week or so to recover. 12 miles at significantly below race pace is pretty taxing afer all.
For some reason I just can NOT get into the groove of the diet. There is a magic point I have found where doing good feels good. It has been a while, but when I get into the training groove, there are days where I start to get a little charge out of eating right. In the past it is because when I compare notes with Jeff Orr, the diet becomes yet another way to measure penis size. When we are both going full steam, team meetings at the bike shop go like this...
"You know what I had for lunch today? A piece of turkey and a string cheese."
"Oh yeah, well I had a fistful of almonds and eight cups of raw spinach."
"I haven't had a carb for two and a half weeks."
"I'm on a juice cleanse."
I suspect that we are both lying usually. Jeff tends to follow up his descriptions of what he ate with "Nom, nom, nom.." sounds.
Despite the competitive glory, when I'm doing well, I get home from work and try to extend a day of good eating. If I get a little hungry I actually feel compelled to workout to kill the pangs. It doesn't always work, and I occasionally binge, but I am quick to correct.
Today was an excellent example of my lousy commitment level lately. I was called out to work late last night, got home at 1 am then had to be at a meeting in Salt Lake at 7am. Now I had been to spin class yesterday morning, and had packed a good lunch for two days in a row. Should have done well. I woke up a little late and had to scramble to be on time. Skipped my usual "good" breakfast of Greek yogurt and a protein shake. Then I get to the meeting and they had doughnuts. I should say, I had doughnuts. Three of them. They were damn good. Doughnut one seemed okay. I figure about 400 calories. That's okay, I can make that work. Protein shake and yogurt is only slightly less than that. The meeting drags on. Forever. Miserable soul crushing meeting. Walking out and passed the doughnuts again. Hell yes I'll have another. It's going to be a long day and I'm planning to ride tonight. Got stuck waiting for somebody at the office. Aww screw it, I'll just have another. Not sure why. It just looked so damn good.
Lunch came and I figured I'd just give up. Went to Wendy's. You can have a medium combo meal and not have it be terrible. When your lack of impulse control kicks in and you add a delicious Spicy Chicken Go Wrap you end up with regrets.
Got home and the weather was beautiful. Met Jeff for an easy spin. Base miles. That's a thing right? We did a little exploring of the Murdock canal trail. Which made me wonder, why the hell would they do that thing in half mile segments divided by one mile segments.? Start at one end and work your way to the other, how hard is that? As it was, we rode to the end of the pavement turned around. Made our way to the next section on surface streets. Half mile, pavement ends. Stupid. Ended up in Lehi and started riding around the north end of town where I grew up. Doug Kolan thinks Lehi sucks but who cares what he thinks. Rode northwesterly and soon dropped down into Christofferson Creek. Just as I did, I remembered what is on the other side of Christofferson Creek. Killer's Hill. Not long, but STEEP. I don't know how it is now, but in the 80's there were a lot of arms broken on that hill by stupid kids with skateboards and low intelligence. There was a time in my life that I was afraid to ride my Huffy BMX down Killer's and wouldn't consider trying to pedal up it.
We made it. Jeff beat me. He is sandbagging lately by doing Crossfit with a private coach several nights a week. I think he's lost twenty pounds. I think I found it.(That is one of my Dad's favorite jokes). Took about a five mile detour to avoid any other steep hills on the way home.
Came home and made at least one other stupid food decision. Doubled up on leftover Tater-Tot Casserole. It ends up that Franks's is a far superior condiment for casseroles than Cholula is. That's what these tests are for.
Hopefully offset the self-defeating choices I made earlier in the day by riding. Even slow.
Tomorrow it will be back to Spin class, maybe a ride in the evening, and then a sweaty throng of people Friday night. Flogging Molly's in town bitches!!!
For some reason I just can NOT get into the groove of the diet. There is a magic point I have found where doing good feels good. It has been a while, but when I get into the training groove, there are days where I start to get a little charge out of eating right. In the past it is because when I compare notes with Jeff Orr, the diet becomes yet another way to measure penis size. When we are both going full steam, team meetings at the bike shop go like this...
"You know what I had for lunch today? A piece of turkey and a string cheese."
"Oh yeah, well I had a fistful of almonds and eight cups of raw spinach."
"I haven't had a carb for two and a half weeks."
"I'm on a juice cleanse."
I suspect that we are both lying usually. Jeff tends to follow up his descriptions of what he ate with "Nom, nom, nom.." sounds.
Despite the competitive glory, when I'm doing well, I get home from work and try to extend a day of good eating. If I get a little hungry I actually feel compelled to workout to kill the pangs. It doesn't always work, and I occasionally binge, but I am quick to correct.
Today was an excellent example of my lousy commitment level lately. I was called out to work late last night, got home at 1 am then had to be at a meeting in Salt Lake at 7am. Now I had been to spin class yesterday morning, and had packed a good lunch for two days in a row. Should have done well. I woke up a little late and had to scramble to be on time. Skipped my usual "good" breakfast of Greek yogurt and a protein shake. Then I get to the meeting and they had doughnuts. I should say, I had doughnuts. Three of them. They were damn good. Doughnut one seemed okay. I figure about 400 calories. That's okay, I can make that work. Protein shake and yogurt is only slightly less than that. The meeting drags on. Forever. Miserable soul crushing meeting. Walking out and passed the doughnuts again. Hell yes I'll have another. It's going to be a long day and I'm planning to ride tonight. Got stuck waiting for somebody at the office. Aww screw it, I'll just have another. Not sure why. It just looked so damn good.
Lunch came and I figured I'd just give up. Went to Wendy's. You can have a medium combo meal and not have it be terrible. When your lack of impulse control kicks in and you add a delicious Spicy Chicken Go Wrap you end up with regrets.
Got home and the weather was beautiful. Met Jeff for an easy spin. Base miles. That's a thing right? We did a little exploring of the Murdock canal trail. Which made me wonder, why the hell would they do that thing in half mile segments divided by one mile segments.? Start at one end and work your way to the other, how hard is that? As it was, we rode to the end of the pavement turned around. Made our way to the next section on surface streets. Half mile, pavement ends. Stupid. Ended up in Lehi and started riding around the north end of town where I grew up. Doug Kolan thinks Lehi sucks but who cares what he thinks. Rode northwesterly and soon dropped down into Christofferson Creek. Just as I did, I remembered what is on the other side of Christofferson Creek. Killer's Hill. Not long, but STEEP. I don't know how it is now, but in the 80's there were a lot of arms broken on that hill by stupid kids with skateboards and low intelligence. There was a time in my life that I was afraid to ride my Huffy BMX down Killer's and wouldn't consider trying to pedal up it.
We made it. Jeff beat me. He is sandbagging lately by doing Crossfit with a private coach several nights a week. I think he's lost twenty pounds. I think I found it.(That is one of my Dad's favorite jokes). Took about a five mile detour to avoid any other steep hills on the way home.
Came home and made at least one other stupid food decision. Doubled up on leftover Tater-Tot Casserole. It ends up that Franks's is a far superior condiment for casseroles than Cholula is. That's what these tests are for.
Hopefully offset the self-defeating choices I made earlier in the day by riding. Even slow.
Tomorrow it will be back to Spin class, maybe a ride in the evening, and then a sweaty throng of people Friday night. Flogging Molly's in town bitches!!!
Monday, March 4, 2013
"Racing"
After much hemming and hawing I decided to travel to St George last weekend to attend the Red Rock Rampage mountain bike race. I originally had no intention of racing. My reasoning was that the point of racing was to see who was faster than you and that was a foregone conclusion.
The twist was that I was crashing at the infamous Team Revolution Flop House.
Though not a team member, I have imposed myself into Revolution's social circle on several occasions and dubbed myself an honorary member. Claiming honorary membership is like giving yourself a nickname. If you keep telling people they start to forget it was your idea.
USUALLY Revolution is really into racing. On the drive down I was expecting to be greeted by a houseful of people who were readying themselves for the season opener. As we rolled into town Friday night, Cobourn decided to head over to packet pickup before we went to the flop house. Like buying a house, having children, and getting married, I made a snap decision in the parking lot and registered for the race. Upon arrival at the flop house I found out that out of twenty some-odd people at the house about six were racing. Including me. I felt a little betrayed. Most of them offered reasons such as "It's March 1st, I'm not racing!" I quickly figured out that the race was secondary to the gathering at the flop house.
The Revo Flop House sounds like a dirtbag affair. On the contrary, it is a traveling circus, buffet, and broo-ha-ha. The group tracks down a vacation home to rent for the weekend and as near as I can tell the challenge is to upgrade from the previous year. I heard stories of the year they rented a former mortuary, then I was told that next year was going to be a mansion. This place was pretty close. Other than the odd floor plan the house was top notch. It included a theater room, covered patio with outdoor kitchen and firepit, saltwater pool with slide and enough beds for everyone with one fat guy on the couch.(Spoiler alert, I was the fat guy on the couch).
It sounds like a party, and it was slightly rowdy. But, when Doug Kolan heads upstairs because it's too loud and everybody else is in bed asleep by 10, party doesn't seem like an appropriate description.
On race day it was like a contest to see who could have the healthiest breakfast. This broke my cardinal rule of nothing new on race day. Between Bob's weird little potatoes and Lyna's powdery weird stuff sprinkled over fruit, everybody was off to a good start, even though most of them were not racing. The oddest part about this race is the 12 pm start time. I think the 24 hours of Moab is the only other race I have done that was a nooner. I spent the long morning procrastinating working on my bike but did manage to refresh the Stan's in the tires. Crossed my fingers that it would shift and brake all right and we headed to the race.
If you have never been to an Intermountain Cup Series race let me set the stage. A few hundred weekend warriors with some serious game faces. You would think that they were all racing to feed their children. The races are generally well done with good courses but I have never been able to get as wound up about them as most of the people there. It's not Cyclocross for God's sake. Calm down.
Lined up in the sport category with about a dozen other dudes. Since Cobourn finally got all his chin-whiskers we are now in the same age category. This makes it easier to crack wise about all the guys jumping up and down and doing stupid shit like pre-race stretches and getting "into the zone". A few familiar faces in the crowd. Most notably a dude who blocked me on facebook for publicly calling him out as a sandbagger lining up with the 40+ Sport crowd. He would go on to win by over two minutes. Douche.
Race starts, we roll out. The dirt road start to the course gave people a chance to sort. I quickly funneled to the back and then began to be caught by the leaders of categories that started behind us. I gave it a good effort on the first lap. Kept the pack in sight and even caught up to Cobourn who was fighting an undisclosed illness(syphillis) which had him hacking and coughing. Managed to keep up with him for rest of the first lap but when we came through the start/finish area and everybody else grabbed a gear and tried to pass people I looked up and shrugged my shoulders. I rolled through the second lap with even less resolve than the first and managed to get passed by at least two women. One of them could have been a man, but she was wearing a sports bra and reeked of a very feminine perfume so I will give her/him the benefit of the doubt.
I did manage to ward off the dreaded DFL in my category but just barely.
There was no surprise in this result. Rest assured if I am not updating this blog, I am not doing well in my quest to look good naked and become a faster cyclist. With a few hit or miss workouts and alternating days of doing well on the the diet with jumping off the wagon while it explodes and runs off a cliff I am merely breaking even. Hovering in the high 180's occasionally peeking back into the dread 190's. This weekend saw a slight dip in weight and perhaps sparked the fire to get riding more. Temperatures are warming and there is more daylight. Things could be worse.
Thanks to Team Revo for letting me crash their party this weekend. So far the best weekend of 2013. (it's been a slow year)
The twist was that I was crashing at the infamous Team Revolution Flop House.
Though not a team member, I have imposed myself into Revolution's social circle on several occasions and dubbed myself an honorary member. Claiming honorary membership is like giving yourself a nickname. If you keep telling people they start to forget it was your idea.
USUALLY Revolution is really into racing. On the drive down I was expecting to be greeted by a houseful of people who were readying themselves for the season opener. As we rolled into town Friday night, Cobourn decided to head over to packet pickup before we went to the flop house. Like buying a house, having children, and getting married, I made a snap decision in the parking lot and registered for the race. Upon arrival at the flop house I found out that out of twenty some-odd people at the house about six were racing. Including me. I felt a little betrayed. Most of them offered reasons such as "It's March 1st, I'm not racing!" I quickly figured out that the race was secondary to the gathering at the flop house.
The Revo Flop House sounds like a dirtbag affair. On the contrary, it is a traveling circus, buffet, and broo-ha-ha. The group tracks down a vacation home to rent for the weekend and as near as I can tell the challenge is to upgrade from the previous year. I heard stories of the year they rented a former mortuary, then I was told that next year was going to be a mansion. This place was pretty close. Other than the odd floor plan the house was top notch. It included a theater room, covered patio with outdoor kitchen and firepit, saltwater pool with slide and enough beds for everyone with one fat guy on the couch.(Spoiler alert, I was the fat guy on the couch).
It sounds like a party, and it was slightly rowdy. But, when Doug Kolan heads upstairs because it's too loud and everybody else is in bed asleep by 10, party doesn't seem like an appropriate description.
On race day it was like a contest to see who could have the healthiest breakfast. This broke my cardinal rule of nothing new on race day. Between Bob's weird little potatoes and Lyna's powdery weird stuff sprinkled over fruit, everybody was off to a good start, even though most of them were not racing. The oddest part about this race is the 12 pm start time. I think the 24 hours of Moab is the only other race I have done that was a nooner. I spent the long morning procrastinating working on my bike but did manage to refresh the Stan's in the tires. Crossed my fingers that it would shift and brake all right and we headed to the race.
If you have never been to an Intermountain Cup Series race let me set the stage. A few hundred weekend warriors with some serious game faces. You would think that they were all racing to feed their children. The races are generally well done with good courses but I have never been able to get as wound up about them as most of the people there. It's not Cyclocross for God's sake. Calm down.
Lined up in the sport category with about a dozen other dudes. Since Cobourn finally got all his chin-whiskers we are now in the same age category. This makes it easier to crack wise about all the guys jumping up and down and doing stupid shit like pre-race stretches and getting "into the zone". A few familiar faces in the crowd. Most notably a dude who blocked me on facebook for publicly calling him out as a sandbagger lining up with the 40+ Sport crowd. He would go on to win by over two minutes. Douche.
Race starts, we roll out. The dirt road start to the course gave people a chance to sort. I quickly funneled to the back and then began to be caught by the leaders of categories that started behind us. I gave it a good effort on the first lap. Kept the pack in sight and even caught up to Cobourn who was fighting an undisclosed illness(syphillis) which had him hacking and coughing. Managed to keep up with him for rest of the first lap but when we came through the start/finish area and everybody else grabbed a gear and tried to pass people I looked up and shrugged my shoulders. I rolled through the second lap with even less resolve than the first and managed to get passed by at least two women. One of them could have been a man, but she was wearing a sports bra and reeked of a very feminine perfume so I will give her/him the benefit of the doubt.
I did manage to ward off the dreaded DFL in my category but just barely.
There was no surprise in this result. Rest assured if I am not updating this blog, I am not doing well in my quest to look good naked and become a faster cyclist. With a few hit or miss workouts and alternating days of doing well on the the diet with jumping off the wagon while it explodes and runs off a cliff I am merely breaking even. Hovering in the high 180's occasionally peeking back into the dread 190's. This weekend saw a slight dip in weight and perhaps sparked the fire to get riding more. Temperatures are warming and there is more daylight. Things could be worse.
Thanks to Team Revo for letting me crash their party this weekend. So far the best weekend of 2013. (it's been a slow year)
Sunday, February 17, 2013
A New Thing
This weekend I tried a new and novel type of exercise. It involves propelling yourself with some velocity using a two-wheeled apparatus. I believe it was called Sykling, or some such thing.
That's right, I actually got on a bike this weekend. And not a stationary one. With the clear air and warmer temperatures it was hard to resist. I had originally planned to go by myself. Better to suffer in silence and exaggerate the results than to have any witnesses to the event. But Friday evening Cobourn started sending Facebook messages. The thing about Facebook messages is that people can tell if you've seen and then ignored them. Soon I was getting texts that said "I KNOW YOU SAW THAT MESSAGE!" I couldn't avoid it any longer.
Since I was on call for work I had to persuade Cobourn to take a shorter route with bailout options. It took some convincing but he finally caved in.(<----Sarcasm) Originally an 80 mile route, then a 50, by the time we were done we clocked in around 22 miles. It was so good to be out though. Our return route sent us around Dimple Dell Park which I had never done before. Not sure who the bastard is that put the 12% climb at the end of what would otherwise be a lovely scenic ride. As I was grunting up the last few hundred yards I heard somebody shout "Woo-hoo!" Looking back there were some kids sledding on the hill behind me. When I looked back one of the little girls shouted out "Keep going, you can do it!" Which at once embarrassed and motivated me. As Cobourn later said, if it wasn't so adorable it would have seemed patronizing.
I had been back on the wagon food wise. Several days of eating clean. Since I take the weekends off I find myself rationalizing a lot on Fridays. Friday morning is part of the weekend, right? I went into a Maverik just to get a drink and noticed something that caught my eye in the hot counter. The Maverik "Breakfast Beast". It looked interesting enough. Bacon, sausage, ham, eggs, and cheese. It appeared to be on some kind of Ciabatta bread and looked delicious. I bought it and shuffled out to my van to eat it like some kind of pervert getting his porno. I opened up the plastic box it was in and took a big bite. The fancy bread was actually a freaking doughnut. Even I have my limits. That thing was disgusting. It had a squirt of some kind of Maple sauce on the bottom. I hate maple. I put peanut butter and jelly on pancakes and waffles. I was forced to chuck the bun/doughnut and scrape the maple jizz off the meat and my tongue. It felt like God was instantly punishing me for a bad food decision. I showed him, and went to Five Guys for dinner.
With the ride, and a slightly less depressed attitude toward training I would call the weekend a positive. We'll see how that carries into the next week.
That's right, I actually got on a bike this weekend. And not a stationary one. With the clear air and warmer temperatures it was hard to resist. I had originally planned to go by myself. Better to suffer in silence and exaggerate the results than to have any witnesses to the event. But Friday evening Cobourn started sending Facebook messages. The thing about Facebook messages is that people can tell if you've seen and then ignored them. Soon I was getting texts that said "I KNOW YOU SAW THAT MESSAGE!" I couldn't avoid it any longer.
Since I was on call for work I had to persuade Cobourn to take a shorter route with bailout options. It took some convincing but he finally caved in.(<----Sarcasm) Originally an 80 mile route, then a 50, by the time we were done we clocked in around 22 miles. It was so good to be out though. Our return route sent us around Dimple Dell Park which I had never done before. Not sure who the bastard is that put the 12% climb at the end of what would otherwise be a lovely scenic ride. As I was grunting up the last few hundred yards I heard somebody shout "Woo-hoo!" Looking back there were some kids sledding on the hill behind me. When I looked back one of the little girls shouted out "Keep going, you can do it!" Which at once embarrassed and motivated me. As Cobourn later said, if it wasn't so adorable it would have seemed patronizing.
I had been back on the wagon food wise. Several days of eating clean. Since I take the weekends off I find myself rationalizing a lot on Fridays. Friday morning is part of the weekend, right? I went into a Maverik just to get a drink and noticed something that caught my eye in the hot counter. The Maverik "Breakfast Beast". It looked interesting enough. Bacon, sausage, ham, eggs, and cheese. It appeared to be on some kind of Ciabatta bread and looked delicious. I bought it and shuffled out to my van to eat it like some kind of pervert getting his porno. I opened up the plastic box it was in and took a big bite. The fancy bread was actually a freaking doughnut. Even I have my limits. That thing was disgusting. It had a squirt of some kind of Maple sauce on the bottom. I hate maple. I put peanut butter and jelly on pancakes and waffles. I was forced to chuck the bun/doughnut and scrape the maple jizz off the meat and my tongue. It felt like God was instantly punishing me for a bad food decision. I showed him, and went to Five Guys for dinner.
With the ride, and a slightly less depressed attitude toward training I would call the weekend a positive. We'll see how that carries into the next week.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Fat Tuesday
Overwhelming demand for an update on my chubby status today. Here's the thing. Totally off the wagon. Maybe not totally, but I have not exercised for a couple weeks. The flu thing, the Frozen Hog thing, that lazy as hell thing. I do have a minor excuse in that both my mountain bike and my road bike are currently going through a warranty replacement process. This means they are both sitting at the shop. I could ride my fixie, or either one of my cross bikes, or one of the several half assembled outdated P.O.S.'s in the shed but I have not.
I'm considering buying rollers. I'm not sure why I think that might help. I have two trainers and am loathe to ride either one of them. Maybe the added excitement of careening off into a wall due to a lapse in attention will do the trick.
Spent some time at the shop today listening "Big Rick" hand out training advice. That dude loves rollers. And he is apparently awesome at them. I am not sure that I will be awesome at them but Rick has lots of ideas for intervals and such. Intervals...yay!
I am missing exactly one major thing in this regimen. Motivation in the form of a goal. Two years ago I had yet to complete the Crusher in the Tushar. I was not sure I would be able to do it. So out of fear, I worked hard to up my chances of being able to finish. The race has a 9 hour cutoff. I didn't think I would be able to finish what was originally supposed to be an 80 mile race with 12K feet of climbing in that time. Once in century snowfall forced alteration of the course and it ended up slightly shorter with slightly less climbing. 70 miles, 10K of climbing. Still a bitch mind you, but shorter. The course has not been altered since it's inception. That year, I was in better shape than I had been since the 90's. Not threatening a podium position or anything but I had a goal, and worked toward that goal. Got a little sick a month before the race and backslid just a touch. Short story long I completed the race with a slightly below average time but I survived.
The following year I did not train. I signed up again because it was so fun the first time(<---sarcasm). I was a little scared about my ability to finish the race again but I wasn't much heavier than the year before and I had some more appropriate gearing. Did the race and was only 30 mins slower. It was cold and rainy and that weather favors the pudgey. That year I also signed up for the Park City Point to Point. A mostly singletrack race with more climbing. The ads for the race ask the question "Can You Do It?" The answer to that question ended up being "Yes." Out of sheer good fortune the weather was shitty for that one too. So shitty they cut 12 miles off the course. So, I was able to finish with the asterisk that it was a shortened course. Signed up again for the Crusher in the Tushar, probably take a pass on the P2P.
The takeaway from all this is that blue collar work ethic and determination are enough to drag my ass across just about any finish line I set out for. The downside is that it makes me feel like I don't really have to train. The only remaining motivation to lose weight is the look good naked thing. At this point I'm thinking of trying to get into chubby guy porn. They say there's an ass for every seat.
Still down about 10 pounds from where I started. I just need to find something to get my ass out of bed at 5 am. Anybody want to volunteer to be my wake up call?
Morning Weigh in:
I'm considering buying rollers. I'm not sure why I think that might help. I have two trainers and am loathe to ride either one of them. Maybe the added excitement of careening off into a wall due to a lapse in attention will do the trick.
Spent some time at the shop today listening "Big Rick" hand out training advice. That dude loves rollers. And he is apparently awesome at them. I am not sure that I will be awesome at them but Rick has lots of ideas for intervals and such. Intervals...yay!
I am missing exactly one major thing in this regimen. Motivation in the form of a goal. Two years ago I had yet to complete the Crusher in the Tushar. I was not sure I would be able to do it. So out of fear, I worked hard to up my chances of being able to finish. The race has a 9 hour cutoff. I didn't think I would be able to finish what was originally supposed to be an 80 mile race with 12K feet of climbing in that time. Once in century snowfall forced alteration of the course and it ended up slightly shorter with slightly less climbing. 70 miles, 10K of climbing. Still a bitch mind you, but shorter. The course has not been altered since it's inception. That year, I was in better shape than I had been since the 90's. Not threatening a podium position or anything but I had a goal, and worked toward that goal. Got a little sick a month before the race and backslid just a touch. Short story long I completed the race with a slightly below average time but I survived.
The following year I did not train. I signed up again because it was so fun the first time(<---sarcasm). I was a little scared about my ability to finish the race again but I wasn't much heavier than the year before and I had some more appropriate gearing. Did the race and was only 30 mins slower. It was cold and rainy and that weather favors the pudgey. That year I also signed up for the Park City Point to Point. A mostly singletrack race with more climbing. The ads for the race ask the question "Can You Do It?" The answer to that question ended up being "Yes." Out of sheer good fortune the weather was shitty for that one too. So shitty they cut 12 miles off the course. So, I was able to finish with the asterisk that it was a shortened course. Signed up again for the Crusher in the Tushar, probably take a pass on the P2P.
The takeaway from all this is that blue collar work ethic and determination are enough to drag my ass across just about any finish line I set out for. The downside is that it makes me feel like I don't really have to train. The only remaining motivation to lose weight is the look good naked thing. At this point I'm thinking of trying to get into chubby guy porn. They say there's an ass for every seat.
Still down about 10 pounds from where I started. I just need to find something to get my ass out of bed at 5 am. Anybody want to volunteer to be my wake up call?
Morning Weigh in:
- 190.5
- 25.6%
- Total weight loss 9.5 lbs.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Day...Whatever.
Off track. The flu thing followed IMMEDIATELY by the Frozen Hog made it pretty impossible to do anything consistently. Most of my cardio came in the form of panicked reactions to weather. As the race came closer I started to justify dietary indiscretions by telling myself I was offsetting them with stress and the occasional lap around the course.
It all culminated after the race. Took a celebratory trip to The Rocky Mountain Wing Shack. It's a little discouraging to be telling people you are in the midst of a training program and then walk into the "The Shack" and have the guy behind the counter know your order before you say it. (XX-Hot Lunch Special with Fries instead of Tots and two fry sauces instead of Blue Cheese for the record.)
Sunday morning I was comfortably back into the 190's.
Depression set in and then it was the Super Bowl. Now, for the record, I don't give two shits about the Super Bowl. I have a bad habit of telling people how much I don't give two shits about the Super Bowl. But it's true. I don't really care about commercials either. Which of course, leaves food. The best thing about the Super Bowl as far as I'm concerned is food served buffet style. Magically I am protected from the food poisoning that could come from cocktail shrimp left on the counter for three hours. Veggie trays whose sole purpose is to be a vehicle for Ranch dressing. Creative ways to combine candy and salty foods. In a fun twist there were three versions of multi-layer dips. Lots of guacamole/bean/sour cream/ type things. They were rad. What was cool was the "second half" meal. Pretty much just a cookie sheet with "Buffalo-Style Chicken Tenders" out of the freezer. It felt like I was cheating on the Wing Shack. Technically I was cheating on my diet with the Wing Shack. So I was basically cheating on my mistress. I was in deep.
When I went to bed Sunday night I was feeling pretty puffy. I should have resolved that I was going to jump back in and hit the workouts really hard on Monday. I didn't.
I managed to get back on the food wagon. Busy days at work helped. You'll notice I didn't weigh in on Monday. I couldn't bring myself to. But after what I felt like was a pretty good food day I did weigh in on Tuesday morning and was pleasantly surprised. Back in the 180's. So for those keeping track at home I am still down more than 10 pounds. Which AIN'T too shabby for pretty much taking a week off after the first week on. I haven't worked out at all this week. That might get better, but diet wise I almost don't have to punch things in anymore because I just know what I can and can't eat. It's like I'm a dietician.
Hopefully back on that pony tomorrow.
Morning Weigh-In:
It all culminated after the race. Took a celebratory trip to The Rocky Mountain Wing Shack. It's a little discouraging to be telling people you are in the midst of a training program and then walk into the "The Shack" and have the guy behind the counter know your order before you say it. (XX-Hot Lunch Special with Fries instead of Tots and two fry sauces instead of Blue Cheese for the record.)
Sunday morning I was comfortably back into the 190's.
Depression set in and then it was the Super Bowl. Now, for the record, I don't give two shits about the Super Bowl. I have a bad habit of telling people how much I don't give two shits about the Super Bowl. But it's true. I don't really care about commercials either. Which of course, leaves food. The best thing about the Super Bowl as far as I'm concerned is food served buffet style. Magically I am protected from the food poisoning that could come from cocktail shrimp left on the counter for three hours. Veggie trays whose sole purpose is to be a vehicle for Ranch dressing. Creative ways to combine candy and salty foods. In a fun twist there were three versions of multi-layer dips. Lots of guacamole/bean/sour cream/ type things. They were rad. What was cool was the "second half" meal. Pretty much just a cookie sheet with "Buffalo-Style Chicken Tenders" out of the freezer. It felt like I was cheating on the Wing Shack. Technically I was cheating on my diet with the Wing Shack. So I was basically cheating on my mistress. I was in deep.
When I went to bed Sunday night I was feeling pretty puffy. I should have resolved that I was going to jump back in and hit the workouts really hard on Monday. I didn't.
I managed to get back on the food wagon. Busy days at work helped. You'll notice I didn't weigh in on Monday. I couldn't bring myself to. But after what I felt like was a pretty good food day I did weigh in on Tuesday morning and was pleasantly surprised. Back in the 180's. So for those keeping track at home I am still down more than 10 pounds. Which AIN'T too shabby for pretty much taking a week off after the first week on. I haven't worked out at all this week. That might get better, but diet wise I almost don't have to punch things in anymore because I just know what I can and can't eat. It's like I'm a dietician.
Hopefully back on that pony tomorrow.
Morning Weigh-In:
- 189.2
- 24.3%
- Total Weight Loss: 10.8 lbs
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