The science of body fat assessments...

Tuesday, May 29, 2012
I was reading a story written by Zach Lewis, a Health page columnist for the Plain Dealer, on having his body fat measured.  It seems that he had a fitness assessment that included a body fat assessment utilizing electrical impedance...a method that often provides questionable results.  An inquisitive guy, he went on a hunt to find out exactly what his body fat was.  He was tested hyrostatically (the underwater test and considered the gold standard of testing), with body fat calipers, was tape measured, placed in the Bod Pod which measures the amount of air the body displaces, and with a DEXA scanner (a piece of x-ray equipment normally used to 'scan' for bone density).  He received measurements ranging from a high of 16.8% to a low of 7.3%.  Quite a range...and terribly disconcerting.  I knew his frustration with wondering what to think and sent him the following email:

Hi Zach,

I read your article on body fat assessments and share your frustrations.  I am an Exercise Physiologist and a columnist for Ohio Sports and Fitness Magazine and have been conducting fitness tests since the 80’s using skinfold calipers and a six-site test.  I have conducted about 10,000 tests during that time and consider myself skilled with calipers.  I believe it to be the only reliably repeatable test in the field because the only room for error is in the hands of the tester.  I don’t know how many sites were used in your assessment, but the more, the better.

I tell clients to remember this about body fat assessments.  They should be done as part of a total fitness assessment and be used to form a baseline of information against which the value of an exercise program can be measured.  “We’re doing this to compare you to yourself…not to other people,” I remind them.   Human error in taking these measurements can be large, but are reduced if you have someone who has done many hundreds before, takes accurate notes of the sites, uses a multi-site test, and most importantly…is the same person for the retest.

I think you’re right about the ‘gold standard’ test, underwater weighing, but remember well the advice of the head of the Exercise Physiology program who taught me this technique during my academic years, “dunk them 10 times.  The first five are useless as the subject is getting used to the completely foreign concept of going under water AFTER blowing all the air out of their lungs.”  How right he was.  I’m guessing you were dunked 2-3 times.

Affordability/convenience is the other issue.  Clearly, some of the tests you mentioned are out of the price range of the common exercising man…and since their repeatability is questionable, I suppose that’s a good thing. 

John Rolf.

I'm sure he'll appreciate my insight.  Had he only come to me, I'd have given him an accurate reading, explained its function, and sent him home a happy man.  Somehow though, in all he's experienced on Cleveland's health and fitness scene, he somehow managed to miss this extraordinary blog.  Well...maybe not anymore.

Survival Workout Duration: 60 minutes

Heart rate during workout: 100-150 bpm.

Calories burned: 600

Exercising at the crack of dawn...

Monday, May 28, 2012
With a sore knee plaguing all of my movements, I decided it was time for kayaking.  I knew it would be easier to have someone along to help loading and unloading the boats…and I like the company…so I asked Marie if she would be up to an early morning trip on the Upper Cuyahoga. 

We met and were on the road before six, but could have been an hour earlier.  I’d been reluctant to ask a teenager to get up any earlier, but she said 5 a.m. would have been fine.  As it was, we didn’t get our boats in the water until almost seven, but we were easily the first on the river.  I like to enter my boat with dry feet and have perfected a method of getting in the kayak and then lifting it…and me…into the water by pushing down on the ground/river just below the boat and raising/scooting the kayak into the water.  I demonstrated this method for Marie, but when I watched her attempting to launch by pushing her paddle against the shore, I reminded her of my method.

“I don’t want to get my hands wet,” she said as way of explanation.

This puzzled me since it is quite impossible to kayak and not get wet hands.

“You do realize the Cuyahoga River is full of water…don’t you?” I asked.

I paddled back to pull on the stern of her boat.  Her bow was firmly planted in the sand and she wasn’t getting out without my help…or by getting her hands wet.  I pulled and suddenly, she was in the water…with dry hands that would soon be wet when the water running down the paddle reached them.  I hoped she wouldn’t throw it into the river should that happen.  I had no intention of towing her on this trip.

She quickly overcame her phobia for wet hands and paddled behind me through the extensive blow down that litters the river just south of the put-in at Russell Park.  We spotted our first of three beavers in ten minutes and had numerous sightings of Great Blue Herons.  At one point, Marie was startled by a large fish splashing in the shallow mud along the river’s edge.  I suspect it was a carp and easily measured over three feet and looked to be a monster.

“Could be a gator…or an Orca.  They’re both known to be in these waters and will flip kayaks and eat the contents,” I warned.

In all, we spent a little over two hours on the water and were returning to our take-out just as the deer flies were becoming seriously annoying.  As we pulled out kayaks from the water, about 10 people were preparing to launch.  We’d done the right thing…gone early and grabbed all the serenity the river had to offer that day.  I don’t know why I fail to remember this and force myself from my bed more often at the crack of dawn.  For run, rides and kayaking, there is no better time to beat the heat and have the roads, parks and waterways to myself than to start early.  And then I have the rest of the day to turn it into a double by doing something else.

Kayak Duration:  2 hours and 15 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 80 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 675 .

Riding seems okay...

Sunday, May 24, 2012
It was hot and getting hotter.  As everyone knows, whether they exercise regularly or not, you should avoid the hours between 11 a.m. and 3 p.m. on such days.  Everyone.

So…I climbed aboard the bike at 11 a.m. and headed out for my first ride in over a week on a knee with a torn meniscus.  My plan…if you’d call it that…was to start riding my Gates Mills course and if it hurt like hell, I’d turn around a go home.  Pretty simple.

I hit Wilson Mills, a half mile from my house, and began to push hard.  I figured I may as well find out quickly.  I reached the Metroparks in less than13 minutes, which meant I was well above 20 mph, and the knee felt strong.  I suppose this didn’t surprise me entirely since last summer I’d been able to ride even when I could hardly walk.  Apparently, I could push down hard and move my knee in a piston motion…side to side or under full body weight was another story, though. 

I rode on pace with my pr for the course through the first hour when the heat began to set in and take its toll.  I could feel the tingling sensation I get whenever working too hard in the heat and with the sun beating down on bike and rider as it reached noon, I knew it was time to back off or die.  I backed off.
I slipped into the park after flying down Wilson Mills hill over 50 mph and began slowly climbing the all-purpose trail.  I was half way up when I noticed a long, black stick moving across the road…which of course, made it something other than a long, black stick.  It was a beautiful, five-foot black snake and it didn’t like sticking around for me to take its picture.  Good thing.  I think the spot it had chosen to sun itself would have gotten it run over by a cyclist if it hadn’t beaten a retreat as I pulled my phone from my saddle bag.

I remounted and finished the ride at a moderate rate, allowing myself to cool somewhat.  I made it home and as soon as I dismounted, noticed the pain returning with my first steps.  I’d ridden close to two hours without pain, though.  I had that much going for me, at least.

Bike Duration:  2 hours.
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 1700.

"Hey there...there goes the Spider-Man"

Saturday, May 23, 2012


I was back on the trail doing my first Survival Workout in 10 days and feeling pretty good.  I reached the cabins where I do some abdominal work when I realized there was a picnic going on at the Pavilion and people were using the swing set.  Clearly, they were unaware of my standing reservation to use the poles for my workout…and I considered not using it, but it had been so long and I really wanted to do some climbing.  I figured ‘what the hell’ and advanced.

A dad was pushing two little children in swings when I spat in my hands and grabbed hold of the pole.  Another child…I’d say about six…was playing on a pole opposite  me and a second little girl was carrying her stick horse (haven’t seen one of those in years) towards the swing set to give it a ride.  I climbed quickly to the top, did a pull-up and slid back to the ground.  The girl with the stick horse looked at me with bulging eyes and her mouth hanging open.

“Can you do that again?” she said in shocked amazement.

“Sure can...can you?” I asked.

She shook her head and called to her mom to come and watch as I climbed a second time.  By now, eight or so kids had gathered to watch and four were trying on various poles to see if they could do it, too.  One little guy let out a gasp.

“I think he’s Spiderman,” he cried out as I climbed a third time.

The mom was uncertain about me and moved between me and her daughter, who was pushing her stick horse on one of the swings.  I really couldn’t blame her…an old man with a faded USA bandana, torn up dirty t-shirt and a propensity for climbing swing set poles.  The kids, on the other hand, couldn’t get enough of trying to climb.

I left after my fourth climb, encouraging them to keep trying…at least until someone fell and broke an arm or collarbone.  It proved something to me though…kids love to play at things we consider exercise and, if given the chance, will do it often and be so much less likely to be dealing with childhood obesity.  The Survival Workout is really playing after all and why wouldn’t they want to do it.  I realized too that I should have a children’s version…I think they’d like it more than most adults.

I finished the workout with a short jog to check how my knee would feel.  After maybe fifty yards I had my answer…not so good.  I’m not kidding myself.  I know I have to go see Nilesh and make a decision about surgery, but I also want to test it out so I can tell him what I’ve tried and how it went.  Tomorrow…a long bike.  I suspect it won’t bother much biking since I don’t load it with weight and bang on it, but we’ll see.

Survival Workout: 60 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 100-150.
Calories burned:  600.

Discipline and routine...the twin towers of success

Friday, May 25, 2012
I hadn’t spent any time with Marie since the state meet last June.  She’s been an extremely busy girl in her first year at Purdue.  She’d suffered a stress fracture in her femur during cross country and had been recovering throughout the winter and into the track season.  She had managed to do five workouts on the track and then had entered one race at the very end of the season.

“I ran the 1500 and clocked 4:33,” she said.

I did the math.  It was an equivalent 4:53 mile with almost no running or racing for six months.  And she’d blown away the field.

“Marie…that’s incredible.  That was a 6-second pr off of no training or racing!”

“I know!  My coach is pretty excited and I think I’m going to have a great cross season,” she said.

Her coach should be excited.  If this girl continues to improve, she’ll be national caliper…as her sister Kim was, by this fall.  She’s a bio-engineering student with an eye for a medical degree and extremely disciplined.  What she puts her mind to doing gets done.  If it’s running…look out Big Ten…and then the rest of the country.

We were gabbing away racing east on the turnpike in hopes of catching the mile, which started around 5:30 p.m. when I noticed the approaching exit was the last in Ohio.  I’d missed ours and after an illegal u-turn and berating the navigator (I placed all responsibility on Marie…she was holding the map), our recalculations confirmed that we’d miss the premiere event of the evening.  We were looking forward to seeing Theresa Heiss, currently the fastest miler in the state and the girl who’d beaten Marie with a lean at the tape at last year’s Regional meet (but whom Marie outkicked in the state meet one week later).  She would be running in the 800 as well, so we’d resigned ourselves to seeing that, at least.
It’s always odd for me to stand along the fence and discuss races with runners I’ve coached.  As much as I enjoy it, I’d rather Marie was in the race and I would have been sweating every stride.  Without an athlete in the competition, my interest wanes and although I always enjoy watching superb runners, with no emotional involvement, I found it anticlimactic.  We’ll go to the state meet together next weekend and camp out the night before, but the meet will seem sedate after last year’s dramatic race when Marie sped from last to sixth over the final 500 meters.

On the ride home, we discussed the ‘big event’ Marie would like to do upon graduation.
“Kim did that cross country ride and I want to do something like it.  Maybe the Appalachian Trail…would you do that?” she asked.

Would I do that?  Does a bear shit in my campsite while he’s looking for my food?

“You have to do something like that.  I told Kim how I can’t remember what I did six hours ago, but I can still recall in great detail the 1,100 mile bike ride I took when I graduated from high school.  Yeah…I read a book about the AP and I’d like to do it…or the Pacific Crest Trail…or the ‘Ride the Divide’ course that goes from Canada to Mexico along the Continental Divide,” I said.

Her eyes lit up at that.  Her discipline is incredible.  She’ll work full time over the summer for Parker Hannifin, run 50 miles a week and once back in school, meet a most demanding academic load. 

“Once I get my routine going…I can handle it – no problem,” she said.

Discipline and routine.  Anyone can achieve their fitness-related goals once these two elusive concepts have been mastered.

Knee continues to curtail workouts...

Thursday, May 24, 2012
It was another day of no exercise, though my knee was marginally better.  Depending on how the day goes tomorrow, I may be able to squeeze in a Survival Workout, but since I’ll need to get to the Regional Track Championships in Youngstown by 5 p.m., I’m doubtful.

Knee continues to curtail workouts...

Thursday, May 24, 2012
It was another day of no exercise, though my knee was marginally better.  Depending on how the day goes tomorrow, I may be able to squeeze in a Survival Workout, but since I’ll need to get to the Regional Track Championships in Youngstown by 5 p.m., I’m doubtful.

"I don't like salmon..."

Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Jackie is such a conundrum.  Last night, while preparing the baked salmon, Holly asked him if he would like some.  He said he didn’t like salmon and was going to walk to the Giuseppe’s and get a turkey sub sandwich.  There was quite a bit left over and I was heating it up for my dinner when he came into the kitchen.

“Is there enough salmon for me?” he asked.

“Actually…no.  But I didn’t ask you about it because last night…you know – 24 hours ago – you said you didn’t like salmon,” I said.

“No I didn’t.  I said I didn’t like salmon because I was going to get a turkey sub,” he explained.
And I failed to see the difference, but since I knew by the end of the evening he wouldn’t like it again, I chose not to give him any of mine.  I know there are some species in the wild that eat their young.  He’s lucky he doesn’t belong to one of those.

I spent the evening with Dan handing him tools as he worked on the Honda.  I had to sit for most of the work since my knee was throbbing and found myself across from his bike and wishing I could take a spin.  He lives in Chardon and right down the road from Bass Lake Preserve, which offers a decent-sized body of water for kayaking. 

“I’m coming out next week with the Jeep and we’re going kayaking.  I have to do something while I’m laid up and I don’t need my knee to kayak,” I said.

He was good with that and I figured I could leave the kayaks at his place to save the bother of loading and unloading them.  I really do need to do something soon.  I’m sure I’m gaining ten pounds a day.

Post-trip blues...

Tuesday, May 22, 2012
I suffered my post-Adirondack blues throughout the day, which was made worse by the knowledge that I would not be exercising and likely facing surgery.  Nilesh advised giving it a little more time to see how it progressed, but it happened on Saturday and after three days of rest, I still couldn’t walk without pain.
At least I ate well.  We baked some more salmon and ate it with non-Paleo rice and spinach all washed down with a huge fruit smoothie. 

The ride home...

Monday, May 21, 2012

I listened to a fictional account of Ernest Hemmingway’s spy ring he headed from his home in Cuba during WWII called ‘The Crook Factory’ on my ride home from the North Country.  Audio books make driving enjoyable and it was good historical fiction…my favorite kind of literature.  I made the trip in 8 hours, squirming from the discomfort of an aching knee.  I knew I’d have to show some semblance of normalcy once I arrived at home to avoid Holly’s condemnation.  She often wonders aloud about my trips, which seem to have me limping and complaining upon each return.  I didn’t want another ‘I told you so’, but I surely had it coming.

Fortunately, I made it home before she arrived from work and had a chance to unpack my gear and get the knee limber so that she hardly noticed the limping when she arrived.  Exercise was out of the question, though.  I knew I couldn’t even go on a short hike in the Metropark, it was that bad.  I put in an email to my doc, Nilesh Shah, describing the pain and how it had happened.  He’d done the original diagnosis for the torn meniscus and was probably wondering why I hadn’t had the surgery already.  Well…I was willing to give it a couple more days.

Good news when I gathered up the Plain Dealer’s I’d missed while camping…the Indians were on a roll and solidly in first place.  They’d done this a year earlier and then tanked after the All-Star break, so I’d be holding my enthusiasm in check until maybe…September, but it was better to be in front than behind at this point.

I imagine I’ll be taking the next few days off from exercising…and going nutty in the process. 

Kayaks and Vitamixers....

Sunday, May 20, 2012

I hobbled around my campsite after a restless night of trying to sleep, packing for the trip home.  I’d had some thoughts of a 15-mile hike to Wallace Pond, but once up and moving around, knew that was out of the question.  Instead, I’d head north and visit relatives…including some time with my grandmother who would be turning 106 in less than a month.

I stayed with my Aunt and Uncle who are extremely active.  My Uncle continues to ride a bicycle, rain or shine, every day of the year.  He does so with a basket on the back of the bike so he can pick up recyclable bottles and plastic containers for the return deposit.  I think they’re worth about a nickel.  He keeps a running log of what he’s collected over the years and it’s closing in on $4,000.  When I was there last fall, I introduced them to the Paleo Diet and smoothies.  They were so excited when I arrived.

“Look at this, Johnny.  It’s our new Vitamix…and I got it on special,” my Uncle gushed when I entered the kitchen.

A Vitamix is an upscale blender manufactured right here in Cleveland.  He had a large recipe book that had come with the product and was making a Tortilla Chip smoothie.  The thought of such a thing almost gagged me, but since he didn’t have the tortilla chips for the blend, I calmed somewhat.  He put in assorted fruits and I think some spinach before hitting the ‘mix’ button.  It made a high speed hum as it blended the ingredients into a tasty, silky smooth smoothie. 
But they bought if for more than its ability to make a good smoothie and began describing the soup they’d be making for dinner.

“Soup?  How’s it going to make it hot?” I asked.

“Um…well…I’m not exactly sure, but I believe it’s the high speed at which it blends.  It has to go for eight minutes,” he said.

They put the ingredients in, struggled to get it spinning at the appropriate rate and then once it was going went about the business of readying salads.  I had time enough to take a shower before returning to the kitchen and their Vitamix dinner. 

“How about that Johnny…and it made three cups!”

Three cups…three people…and one of them was me.  This was shaping up as a formula for the kind of disaster where I eat a relative. 

The soup was delicious…as was the carrot salad…but I warned them that when bears were given such amounts, they tended to chew the arm off the person feeding them.  My Aunt picked up on the signals and pulled some meatloaf from the refrigerator and made meatloaf sandwiches.  It was touch and go for a few minutes, but I relaxed once the sandwich was in front of me and with my Uncle making a couple of more different kind of smoothies…I think he was attempting to go through the entire recipe book before his 9 o’clock bed time…I reached a point of feeding satisfaction.

I was hobbling in pain throughout the day and there was no way I’d be doing any cycling on one of my Uncle’s bikes.  I’d been to Massena to visit with my cousins, Donnie and Pat, who have built beautiful homes on the family property, which backs up to the Grasse River earlier in the day. 

Walking through Donnie’s garage, he asked if I’d like something to drink.  We opened the frig to check out the offerings when I suggested a smoothie.  I think it was what he was waiting for.  He loves my smoothies…they’d replaced the milk shakes I used to make whenever I went there.  You can never have too many good smoothies.  We finished them quickly and headed across the driveway to Pat’s place.

Pat was showing us through the basement, which overlooked the river, when my eyes fell upon two kayaks.

“Just got back from paddling up to the Gun Club with Marshall,” Pat said.  Marshall was his black lab and the Gun Club was over two miles upriver.

“Did Marshall swim the entire way?” I asked.

“Nah.  He swims some…runs along the bank some…like that,” he said.

“Think he’d like to go again?” I asked.

And just like that, I was dragging a kayak the 50 yards down to the river and climbing in.  The Grasse is a slow moving, sandy bottom river at this point.  It originates a hundred miles away in the peaks of the Adirondacks and has had me wondering about a trip from its source to my cousins’ back yard.  It would only be a matter of a few more miles to its destination…the mighty St. Lawrence River.  I suggested as much to Pat as we paddled, but he wasn’t wrapping his mind around that at the moment.  He did want to know more about the Paleo Diet and how I’d managed to lose twenty pounds.

“You could also start every morning with a trip up the river before work.  I like kayaking at the crack of dawn with a cool mist coming off the water and wildlife teaming along the shores the best,” I said.

He considered that as we sat on a sand bar across from the Gun Club and he sipped on the beer he’d brought along in the hold.

“You could quit drinking calories…like beer…if you really want to get in shape,” I said.

He looked at me like I had a third eyeball in the middle of my forehead.  He’d do a lot of things to get in shape…but giving up beer was clearly not going to be one of them that look said.  I told him about my coming triathlon and that I’d email him a copy of it and information about the Paleo Diet…suggesting he join me in the endeavor.  He’s a worthy project and family does for family…right, Pat? 

Kayak duration: 60 minutes

Training Heart Rate:

Calories burned during workout:  300.

The sounds of surgery...

Saturday, May 19, 2012


I’d driven to the open campsites just outside Heart Lake and a little east of Lake Placid.  It was the perfect jump off point to climb many of the best peaks in the Adirondacks without having to hike miles with a heavy backpack.  It also meant that there was constant human traffic…the serenity was gone.  In my condition though, it was this or nothing.

I’d taken Advil and climbed into my sleeping bag after studying the map for possible hikes the next day.  I’d assumed I would be out of commission for my planned trip up Nye Mt.  It was another absolutely perfect night to be sleeping under the stars, but the aches of a punishing day may sleep difficult.

I climbed from my sleeping bag about 6 a.m. and tried walking around the campsite.  To my surprise, I actually felt pretty good.  I was only 10 miles outside of Lake Placid and decided to drive into town, get a hot breakfast, and test my legs for a possible climb up Nye.  I ordered the large stack of hot cakes…they were larger than the plate…and found that I couldn’t finish them.  I made my way back to the campsite feeling almost normal and decided I’d climb.  It was a shorter, easier hike and I knew it.  I wouldn’t need to carry a fifty-pound pack for even a step and that was a positive development. 
I hiked to the trailhead with my 15-pound daypack in about an hour and began the climb on this reasonably easy to find unmarked trail.  I met a couple about my age at the start and they were asking questions about the starting point to the trail.  They were without a map, daypacks, or good hiking shoes.  They looked to be fit, but said they’d be walking slowly.  When I heard the man telling his wife to be careful that a log was slippery, I figured they’d never see the peak and I’d never see them again.  They just didn’t have the look of people who climb 4,000 footers…more of the neighborhood sidewalk type.  And I never did see them again.

It was hot and humid and I knew I’d be needing more than the 90 ounces of water I’d started with.  My map indicated that I’d be hiking next to a brook most of the way to the peak so…problem solved.  I’m not one to concern myself over contracting giardia lamblia (beaver fever) from drinking untreated water.  I will purify water that comes from standing ponds where beaver and other water mammals and waterfowl habituate, but this brook was not one of those.  It sprung from somewhere high in the mountain I was climbing and was as pure as water got.  I made a habit of stopping every ten minutes and taking several mouthfuls before moving on.  It was the best part of the hike that day.

I climbed steadily and without pain for the next two hours and was approaching the peak when it happened.  I was stepping over a downed tree when my left foot slipped and my knee wrenched to the left.  I let out a scream and tried to bring it back under control, torqueing it to the right and screaming again.  I began cursing out loud…I could probably be heard two peaks away…and wondering what I was going to do next.  I limped around for a few minutes deciding I had to finish the climb…I was too close to turn around.  I walked for the next ten minutes and the pain subsided but I wasn’t kidding myself.  I knew I’d increased the tear in the meniscus and would be paying for it later.  I arrived at the peak uneventfully…it had no views and plenty of black flies…and quickly began my descent.  Even with the damaged knee, I managed to make the descent about 15 minutes faster.  I have found that my ascent/descent times are pretty close to each other because I take more precautions on the descent, as I’m tiring.  I managed the round trip in a little over five hours and finished it with another dunking in the clear, icy waters of the Opalescent.

I started popping Advil as soon as I returned to my campsite and decided to drive back to the Noonmark Café for dinner, which I ate it with an ice pack resting on my knee.  It was still early, so I made my way to Lake Placid for a photo shoot before returning to my campsite to try and sleep.  The ache in my knee would make this impossible though and when I finally got up around six, I knew my climbing and hiking for this trip was done.

As much as I love the Adirondacks, this trip has taught me the value of traveling with someone.  If I’d re-injured my knee on Allen, I’d probably have had to spend a night on the mountain without shelter.  No one was coming up behind me and it could have been a long and dangerous descent.  My planning and preparation were hurried and incomplete…a deadly combination…and I know better.  Things worked out…as they most often do…but there is no sense in tempting fate.  It was stupid and I’ve learned.  I’m not saying I’d never go alone again, but I will not attempt a trail less peak without a hiking partner, at least.  Johnny Boy…get healthy - I need you.

Hike/climb duration: 5 hours

Training Heart Rate: 80 to 140 bpm.

Calories burned during workout:  2,500.

Toughest day ever...

Friday, May 18, 2012
I think it was 4 a.m. when I heard the ruffled grouse beating his wings for the first time.  It’s such an unusual sound, like the prop of an airplane building speed until it’s finally at full throttle and not something I mind hearing, but it was damned early.  Yet, in less than an hour, it was light enough to hike.  Still…it was cold and I hung in m sleeping bag until six.

I had a breakfast of Kashi cereal and began the process of loading the backpack with the supplies I thought I’d be using over the next three days.  One of the disadvantages of traveling alone is that there is no one to share the load of the essentials…tent, cooking gear, food, and water.  I took extra shoes because I knew the bridges were out and I’d be wading through water and probably had a pack weighing in around fifty pounds by the time I was ready to hike.  I registered at the trailhead and from this could see that only one other person was headed for Allen Mt.  Since it was a trail less peak (an unmaintained, unmarked trail) and a weekday, it was unlikely I would see anyone on the mountain.

I was on the trail two minutes when I found myself plunging into the mountain-cold waters of the Opalescent River.  The water was moving swiftly and strong, but was only knee deep and not an issue to cross…unless you consider soggy shoes an issue.  I really don’t.

I dealt with two more water crossings…one over Lake Jimmy on a plank walkway that was partially submerged.  The submerged planks were bobbing and the water was over six feet deep meaning that slipping with a fifty-pound pack and falling in the lake would be decidedly foolish.  I was shifting and moving so much that I decided it would be safer to get on my hands and knees over one particularly mobile section.  The water lapped over my legs as I crawled along and although it was cold, I’d been sweating from the effort of carrying the pack in the sunny, 80-degree heat, so it felt pretty good.

My plan was to hike the five miles to the trailhead for Allen Mt. where I would leave my main pack and take a day pack with the supplies I’d need just for the climb.  It took me two and a half hours to make this portion of the trek.  I stopped and placed my pack off the trail and prepared for my ascent.  The trail book said to allow four hours for the trip since there was a lot of blow down requiring bushwhacking and slow going.  Since it was 10 a.m., I figured to have plenty of time to summit and return and then hiking the final four miles to my campsite at Livingston Point.

I’d made one little, interpretive error though.  The ‘four hours’ mentioned in the trail book was for reaching the summit and did not include the time it would take to return…something I think could have been mentioned as it is kind of important.  As advertised, the trail was difficult and rugged and my progress was extremely slow.  Since so few people use the trail, it was hard to find at times and I lost further time to locating it.  Though I had a compass and map, I really didn’t want to use them to find the peak.

After two hours on the trail up, I met the other hiker climbing Allen that day.  He was Canadian and spoke French…one of the languages of the world I don’t speak (I’m close to mastering English, though) and described what was to come in broken English as ‘slippery and steep’.  He wasn’t bullshitting.  I found myself trying to climb over moss-covered rocks through a diminishing mountain stream, struggling to find solid footholds.  I reached a point where I could no longer see any signs of people passing before me and only a steep, water-covered smooth rock face rising towards the peak for the next 100 yards.  I moved off to the bushes and shrub trees that bordered this ‘slide’ and tried to forge ahead in search of the trail.  After fighting and clawing my way through brush that was shredding my legs and arms and seeing no sign of a trail, I concluded I’d missed it.  I could descend for 30 minutes and try to find it, or continue my bushwhack to the peak and then hope I could find my way back down the route I’d just taken.  I elected to do the latter.

It was at this time that it occurred to me that if I didn’t start down soon, I’d be hiking in the dark on a trail less peak…without a headlamp.  It was also about then that I discovered I’d lost my trail map somewhere in the dense underbrush and would now be traveling blindly unless I could find the trail I’d lost on the way up.  Descending through the creek on the slippery rock face was slower than ascending had been and I didn’t make it back to the base of the mountain until 4:30 p.m.  I was bleeding from over fifty cuts, inundated with mosquitoes and black flies, and completely exhausted.  Because I had failed to do any conditioning with a pack in preparation for the trip, my hips were fatigued and sore.  I’d made the decision on my descent to hike the five miles back to my car instead of the three further in to a campsite because I was now without a trail map, something I would have needed for tomorrow’s climb.  I swung the full pack on my aching shoulders and began the two hour death march back to the car.

In all, I was on the trail hiking and climbing for over 11 hours.  I’d only stopped to eat a sandwich and energy bar and to take some pictures along the trail and from the peak.  I’d covered close to 20 miles on some of the roughest trails I’d ever experienced and been bitten more times than I would ever be able to count.  I was thinking how I liked to say ‘a bad day in the Adirondacks beats a good day at the office’ and wondering if it applied to today.  I shed my pack quickly upon reaching the car, grabbed my towel and a change of clothes and staggered back to the Opalescent River…five minutes from the car…for a much needed clean-up.  I sat in water somewhere in the high 40-degree range and tried to scrub the blood, mud, and salty sweat-grime from my body.  There were so many black flies attached to me as I stood, that I thought they’d carry me back to the river bank.  They didn’t.

Any notion of cooking was out.  I drove to Keene Valley and had a dinner at the Noonmark Café wondering if I’d be able to walk the next day.  My hips and left knee were very sore and my feet, probably injured from running in the minimalist shoes, were throbbing.  I’d gone and bit off a little more than I could chew…again.

Hike/climb duration:11.5 hours

Training Heart Rate: 80 to 140 bpm.
Calories burned during workout:  6,500.

Final preparations...

Wednesday. May 16, 2012
Holly and I were discussing my coming trip to the Adirondacks on our hike in the Metroparks.  She really misses me when I’m gone and it makes me feel so good.

“You might want to put a note on the board that you’re camping.  Otherwise, I might think you’re working late when you don’t come home for three days,” she said.

I mean…she’ll be distraught without me around.  Anyway, we hiked for a little over an hour.  I decided that I’m ready and further exercise would just be me being compulsive.  I could feel the fatigue in my legs as we hiked up a couple of the small hills we faced…and that’s a sign that a rest is in order.  Friday should be a killer.  I’m planning on sleeping at the trailhead after a nine-hour drive Thursday night and hiking in with a 40-pound pack the 7 miles to the camp site.  I’ll drop the pack and immediately head for the trail that leads to the peak of Allen Mountain.  It’s 4,340 feet high, but is reached on an unmarked herd path, which usually means it’s harder to find and more difficult to climb.  The guide book says to allow four hours to summit and return to the trailhead, meaning I’ll be on the trail for eight hours and have covered about 15 miles of rugged trails before the day is over.

This will be the last posting until early next week.  I hope to be fitter, leaner and have knocked off three more of New York’s 46 peaks over 4,000 feet by the time I return.

Hike Duration:  60 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 80 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 300.

Bill Bodnar makes big gains...

Tuesday, May 15, 2012
You may recall my giving a fitness test on New Year’s Eve to a 57-year old named Bill Bodnar.  Bill was one of eight people for whom I was testing and writing running programs to compete in this Sunday’s Rite Aid half marathon or marathon.  Bill was running the marathon and wanted an update on his fitness test to see exactly how much improvement he’d accomplished over the last four months.  He’d been told last July that he had 70% blockage in a coronary artery and bypass surgery was the recommended course of action.  He chose a different one, electing to change his dietary habits instead and to resume a running career that had taken a 27-year hiatus.  We gave him the fitness test on the last day of the year and he’d scored 257 out of 1,000 possible points.  He had a baseline and a plan though, and he followed it with relish.

He’d dropped almost 8 pounds since the last test, but more importantly, he made significant improvements in the step test…designed to measure aerobic/cardiovascular fitness.  He did the 3-minute step test with a 1-minute recovery heart rate of 99 beats per minute.  That same test had resulted in a recovery heart rate of 123bpm when we’d done the test four months earlier.

“That is an amazingly positive drop, Bill.  And you scored 449 on the fitness test…which is a huge improvement.  You should be very happy,” I said.

And he was…but he wasn’t satisfied.  He figured he could lose another 10 pounds, wanted to run a marathon (he’s doing the half marathon on Sunday), and ultimately would like to qualify to run the granddaddy of marathons in Boston.

“Maybe when I hit sixty,” he said, noting the qualifying times for that age bracket and the training he’d have to do to hit it.  I feel reasonably comfortable saying that Bill will achieve whatever he puts his mind to doing.

I went to the park after testing Bill to get in a short run before dark.  I decided to run my favorite, short course knowing that it would allow me about 30 minutes of running.  I started out slowly and almost bagged it because I just wasn’t feeling right and didn’t want to jeopardize my weekend in the mountains.  I decided I’d turn around at the 5-minute mark if things didn’t improve.  But they did.

I hit a time marker about 45 seconds behind my fastest for that spot and since I was feeling stronger, picked it up.  The rest of the run felt fast and smooth and when I hit the stopwatch to find I’d covered the course in 26:45…or about 90 seconds faster than I ever had before…I was more than a little shocked.

I came home, showered, and decided it was time to check my weight.  I haven’t done this since last fall and was dreading the outcome.  My running times were so good lately though that I figured if I was running so well with the extra weight, I’d be smoking the courses when I dropped down again.  I stepped on the scale thinking anything below 190 would be wonderful.  I was completely unprepared to see ‘181’ registering.

I suppose I should have known.  My clothes fit as they did last fall and my training is as good as it’s been in years.  I’d managed to dip below 180 last fall, but barely so I’m right where I was…and quite happy about it.

Run duration: 26:45.  Survival Workout: 60 minutes.
Training Heart Rate:  150 running and 100-150 for SW.
Calories burned during workout:  500 running and 600 for SW.

Do marshmallows qualify?

Sunday, May 13, 2012

I have been going to the Ohio High School Track and Field Championships since 1986 when I first took a young athlete named Eric Harsh to get a sense of the stadium and the excitement of being there.  He was only a sophomore at the time, but had his sites on winning the 1600 meter race before his high school running days were through.  Two years later, he would return and race against the defending state champ at that distance, a boy that had beaten him the week before at the Regional meet…the State qualifier.  He had not let it discourage him and went on to outkick that runner, and the field, to win the race that day.  He went to Indiana University to continue his running career, but we remained the best of friends to this day.  I saw him recently at Heidi’s art show…he is her Godfather…and we talked about the upcoming State meet.  I invited him to come down with his daughter the night before and join the other runners and fans I had gathered for our annual overnight campout at Alum Creek State Park.  He’s not a camper, but assured me he’d look through the house to see what gear he had.  He texted me the next day to report.

“The only camping gear I seem to have is a bag of marshmallows,” he wrote.

“No matches?” I countered.

“Actually…no.”

At least he and his daughter want to.  I’ve managed to get probably 10 different people into the back country of the Adirondacks by first introducing them to the fun of camping at Alum Creek State Park.  There they get some wonderful conveniences…a bath house with warm showers and flush toilets, picnic table, fire pit, a ready supply of wood and a Bob Evans down the road a piece.  Still, it gets them in a tent and a comfortable sleeping bag, the smell of smoke on their clothes and the value of sitting around a campfire with nothing else to do except swap stories of running…and life.  It really doesn’t get any better and, I think, makes them want to take the next step…an extended stay in some pristine mountains only eight hours away.  I’m hoping to work the magic on Eric and Sydney with this trip.

I did another tough Survival Workout before our Mother’s Day gathering.  Holly’s dad was making a wonderful dinner…but it would be very fattening and so I came home and made a blender full of my famous smoothie, downing the last of it as we served the meal.  It worked to perfection, keeping me to one serving and a small one at that.  I’ll be climbing in six days and wouldn’t mind taking a few less pounds to the peak.

Survival Workout: 60 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 100-150.
Calories burned:  600.

Giving an old friend the push he needed...

Saturday, May 12, 2012
I started the day with my ‘Mimi’ workout.  Though I didn’t have 5 yards of anything to haul around the yard, I did need to put her sun porch back together, which required ceiling to floor washing, moving furniture, some painting and other miscellaneous odds and ends.  I was washing her furniture on the wooden deck off the back of the house…slipping and sliding like I was on a frozen pond in the middle of the winter when I decided I needed to do something about the algae that had built up on the decking.  I filled a bucket with hot water and a large splash of Spic and Span, put on my knee guards for crawling around on roofs, took a stiff scrub brush and went to work.  It took an hour…and three pounds of sweat…but I removed it to the point that Mimi wouldn’t need her ice skates every time the deck got wet.

I returned home and called Dan to tell him I was riding his way.  I’d been threatening to get him out on his bike since the end of last summer when, in exchange for some work on the car, I’d rehabbed his Univega touring bike.  We’d trained and raced together over 25 years ago when he’d put the bike in the attic while I’d kept going.  I knew Dan.  If I didn’t ride to his place and stand there while he put on his gear and climbed on the bike, he’d never do it. 

It was almost 7 p.m. when I arrived at his place in Chardon…which means I’d been riding uphill for over an hour.  We pumped up his tires and for the first time in close to three decades…Dan was riding again.  His bike is geared for racing, which is to say it doesn’t have the range for climbing hills that mine possesses.  I’d warned him of this because I’d ridden it to his place once I’d fixed it up…almost losing a lung and my guts climbing the Wilson Mills hill from River Road east.

“You need a new cassette on that bike, Danny boy,” I reminded him before climbing our first hill.
“I’ll be okay,” he said.

He wasn’t though.  After climbing two lesser hills over the next 15 minutes, he proclaimed he was taking a left on Sherman and heading for home.  I needed to smoke the rest of my ride if I was going to beat the dark and so I did.  I wound my way through neighborhood side streets for the final couple of miles in a dwindling light and arrived home at 8:30 p.m.  I’d told Jack when I’d left that I’d make burgers when I returned and I knew he’d be hungry by now.  As I climbed from my bike, I could hear the phone ringing in my saddle bag.  It was Jack.

“Dad…when are you going to be home…I’m really hungry,” he said without thinking much.

“Jack…did you think I could ride my bike and answer a cell phone at the same time?”

“Um…no?”

“That would be correct.  I’m in the driveway,” I answered.

And here’s where I undid all the work I’d done over the last ten hours.  We both knocked off three burgers…though I did leave off the cheese.

Yard Work Duration: 6 hours.  Bike duration: Two hours and 30 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 70-100 for yard work and 120 for the bike.
Calories burned:  1800 for yard work and 2100 for the bike.

Forced entry on an old Jeep...

Friday, May 11, 2012


Remember the case of the 8-year old obese child taken from his mom by the county?  Well…after bouncing around to four different homes, working with a personal trainer, and getting a free membership from the YMCA, he’s back with his mom.  Apparently he’s lost over 40 pounds during this process, but his mom is wondering if she can get a personal chef to come to the house for 10-$200 sessions to teach her how to cook nutritionally sound meals.  And the county is thinking of going along with the plan.
I know food choices and good nutrition can be confusing, but I’m having trouble with this solution.  The Child and Family Services have set some disturbing precedents in this case and it doesn’t look like they’ll be stopping anytime soon. 

We traveled to ‘The Loop’ in Cleveland’s trendy, near Westside neighborhood to see Heidi’s art display.  She’d been asked by the shop to display her work for the next month.  Tremont, one of the oldest neighborhoods in Cleveland, has been going through a revitalization for the last ten years, attracting restaurants, art galleries, shops and new residents to the old, affordable dwellings.  The Tremont Art Walk happens on the second Friday of each month and her work will stay up for the next three weeks.
We were hanging at The Loop and drinking our over-priced coffee (I consider anything I can make at home for a quarter that costs $4 to be over-priced), when Savannah, just arriving from Columbus for a weekend with the family, announces that she locked her keys in the Jeep.  But Jason was there and offered a quick solution.

“I’ve got one of those jimmy tools to pop car door locks,” he said.

“And you have one because…” I inquired.

He’d found it at the Car Wash he manages…good explanation and the one we’d use if the Cleveland’s finest pulled up while we were using it to get into the Jeep.  Now…I’ve seen cops using this tool and it never looks easy.  Jason spent about twenty minutes trying and then I went into action for another ten.  Jason had a friend google our situation on his Smart Phone…but it came up with dumb solutions.  The best it could do was to tell us to use the tool somewhere between the door handle and the mirror. THAT really narrowed it down.  Detroit could have built 3 Jeeps in the time it took us to figure out we should have called AAA.  Savannah…watching us the entire time…asked for a shot.

“I GOT IT!” she yelled ecstatically after 10 seconds of trying.

“If that engineering thing at Ohio State doesn’t work out for you…looks like you’re on to another career opportunity,” I said.

We grabbed the keys from the Jeep before Jason could relock the door to try and figure out what she’d done…which he did.   Maybe he thought they’d go into business together?

Survival Workout: 60 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 100-150.
Calories burned:  600.

Feeling fast and fit...

Thursday, May 10 2012
My run eight days ago had really encouraged me.  On that day, I’d tried out the minimalist shoes again and taken off on my short, Clear Creek course that winds through the woods to Squires Castle and returns.  I’d done that run in…around four miles…57 seconds off my pr.  Since then, I’d run one more time…an hour…in those same shoes.  My feet were sore from the lack of cushioning, but I’d felt good again and was looking for a test of my fitness.

I arrived at the park with the sole purpose of cracking my pr.  It would mean starting fast and pushing the entire route.  I’d set the pr last fall when I was as lean as I’ve been in 20 years and quite fit.  Now…I was probably up a few pounds and six months older.  I’d only been running a couple of times a week and doing no speed work to make me faster.  Still…I was pretty sure I could go faster and in my experience, I’ve always been able to do what I’ve told myself I can do.

I hit my first half mile running smoothly and 12 seconds faster than I had a week ago.  It was cool and crisp and although I was laboring, I felt strong.  My course has a short stretch through the woods on a deer trail, across River Road and up a short, steep hill to a bluff overlooking the Chagrin River before descending again down the sled riding hill.  This segment challenges me when I’m trying to run fast because of the twists and turns through the woods and the steep hills. 

I pushed hard through this segment, knowing that I’d be retracing these steps and doing it again in less than 10 minutes.  When I got back to this point on the way back, the pace was taking its toll and I was struggling to hold it.  I recrossed Clear Creek…splashing through the water…but still feeling like I could break my pr if I kept holding on.  I ran hard over the final half mile…not sprinting for fear of hurting my calf…but certainly picking it up.  I hit my watch and was pleased to see I’d crushed my course pr having run 28:42 or a minute and 13 seconds faster than I’d ever done it before.  Checking my pulse at the conclusion, I found that it was over 160 beats per minute or more than 20 beats higher than my normal running pace.

For me, it is nothing more than a fitness assessment.  I’m not trying to run fast right now, but it is good to know that I’m in better shape than I was last fall when I believed I was in the best shape of my life.  I owe it partially to the winter that never really happened since I was able to do many long distance rides throughout the winter months when I’d normally be inside.  I’d also stuck to the Paleo Diet throughout the holidays…with some exceptions…and managed to keep the weight gain for the winter reasonable.  I still haven’t been on a scale…but the run shows me something a scale can’t…and I like what it’s showing me.

Run Duration:  29 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 160 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 500.

"All eyeballs are the same size..."

Wednesday, May 9, 2012
 “Did you know that every eyeball in the world is the exact same size?  My health teacher told us…so it’s true,” Jackie announced to Holly and me over dinner at Bob Evans

“I’m finding that a little hard to believe,” I said.

“Maybe she’s mixing that up with what I heard…which is your eyeball never grows.  It’s the same size when you’re a baby as it is when you’re fully grown,” Holly adds.

And this is how the deep, thought provoking conversations go when two or more Rolfs gather for a meal.  Jackie…after further questioning…admitted to making that little factoid up, but he’s had ones like that before so you never know.  Holly, on the other hand, was standing by hers.  I suppose it could be true, but I was struggling with how the measure the dimension of a baby’s eyeball in the first place.  I guess I just wasn’t that interested to pursue it further.

We’d decided on Bob Evans for dinner because Jackie had just had his teeth examined and having perfect teeth seemed to him like a fine reason to take him out for his favorite meal…chicken fingers, fries, mashed potatoes and gravy all washed down with a strawberry banana smoothie.  I was planning on a perfect Paleo dinner…a spinach salad with baked chicken breast…but ended up with a decent omelet instead.

I left Bob Evans and further intellectual stimulation from Jackie to drive to Brunswick High School where I was going to watch a conference track meet.  I was particularly interested in the girl’s 1600 where two of Ohio’s best; Anna Boyert and Theresa Heiss would be competing.  It was a very windy day and Anna chose to take it out hard, cruising through 800 meters in a blazing 2:23.  Her opponent waited wisely behind, allowing Anna to do the work into the wind.  She moved past Anna on the fourth and final lap and simply ran away.  She clocked the fastest time in the state this year by over 7 seconds, finishing in 4:50 and clearly making her the favorite for the state championship in three weeks…and I’ll be there, as always.

Survival Workout: 60 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 100-150.
Calories burned:  600.

Jackie Robinson was something special...

Tuesday, May 8, 2012


I needed a night off from working out.  I hadn’t missed a day in over two weeks and I was getting slightly burnt out.  I reached this conclusion only after driving to the park and just not wanting to get out of the car and get started.  It felt good at that moment…though later I’d wished I’d done something.
Instead, I headed home and got the necessary supplies together to make a killer smoothie.  I was going to Don’s to watch Inning Six of the Ken Burns documentary on Baseball.  I arrived at his place around seven with my cooler and appetite.  We’ve kind of turned ‘Baseball’ night into a spaghetti dinner and I’m always okay with that. 

The documentary had reached the 1940’s…a very historic time for baseball and this country.  The summer of 1941 held two of baseball’s most memorable accomplishments with Joe DiMaggio setting what most baseball experts believe is an unbreakable record, hitting safely in 56 consecutive games.  Amazing as this feat is, you might say it was matched by Ted Williams, whose batting average of .406 would be the last time any hitter would top 400 for a single season.  It was also the decade when a world would suffer through the most devastating war the planet had ever experienced, professional women’s baseball would be played…and Jackie Robinson’s breaking the color barrier of Major League Baseball would become possibly the single biggest event affecting the social fabric in this country’s history.  He was an outstanding ballplayer…able to completely change the complexion of any game when he got on base by disrupting the pitching and defense with his blazing speed and daring base running.  But as a human being, the things he was forced to endure without comment or displays of anger because of an agreement he reached with Dodgers General Manager, Branch Rickey, were simply unimaginable for any white American.  I have always admired this man, the way he carried himself and the hardships he endured with complete dignity, that I called my son ‘Jackie’ in his honor.

A long, sweaty run...

Monday, May 7, 2012

 I went to the park with the intention of doing a 30-minute run in my minimalist shoes and then tackling the Survival Workout.  I’ve tried doing it the other way around, but always find myself too spent to run after the workout.

It had been raining off and on throughout the day and the temperature was in the low 70’s.  The sun had broken out recently and was turning the woods into a sauna.  It’s been some time since I’ve done much running in these conditions…ones I hate because of how much they make me sweat…and wasn’t looking forward to it.  I started slowly, telling myself to just get through it and then pound the workout.

After 10 minutes of rather effortless running, I decided to crank it up a notch and stretch the run to 40 minutes.  I turned off on a trail that would add 10 minutes, but when I reached the top of a tough climb and was still feeling good, decided to go even further.  By the 50-minute mark I knew I’d be doing an hour and had concerns over what shape my feet would be in the next day.  The minimalist shoe does not provide near the cushion in the heel as a traditional running shoe and if I was heel-striking, they’d be sore tomorrow.  They were getting rather squishy, too…a result of sweat pouring off my body and landing on them.  This is the perfect combination for blisters…something I always want to avoid, but particularly when planning a trip to the Adirondacks where foot care is essential.

I made a detour as I reached the bottom of a hill and jogged the short distance to Clear Creek.  Once there, I stripped off my shirt and dunked it in the chilling water…deciding I wasn’t ready for full submersion yet.  I used the shirt to cool my head, which was surely beet red.  After cooling down in this fashion for a couple of minutes, I completed the remainder of the 1-hour run.  I couldn’t stop sweating as I walked the trail for the next ten minutes and finally climbed into the car, providing protection to the seat from my sweaty body with three rag towels I had there for that purpose.

My feet felt fine throughout the run and the calf seems to be completely healed again…though the true test will be running back to back days.  I skipped the Survival Workout for the run, but right now I’m concerned more with strengthening my endurance.  Ten-hour days on the trails of the Adirondacks requires more of this endurance-type training and I like to be prepared.

Dinner was quite Paleo.  I had a smoothie to go with a large piece of baked salmon.  I don’t think I’m dropping weight yet, but I know I will as the weather continues to heat up and I can do more long rides while sticking more closely to Paleo principles.  

Run Duration:  60 minutes.

Training Heart Rate: 140 bpm.

Calories burned during workout: 1020.

"Will they attack us?"

Sunday, May 6, 2012


Holly got me to start the day early with a walk in the Metroparks.  We were there before 8 a.m. in the chilly, morning air and mostly alone as we hiked my favorite walking trails.  I stopped her at one point so we could both enjoy what I like most about hikes in the early morning or setting sun…the rays filtering through the trees creating the long shadows that make it such a mystical place.  At another point on the hike, I stopped her and with some difficulty, got her to quit chattering.

“Hear that?” I said, standing motionless and pointing off to my left.

She heard the howling in the distance and said, “yeah…what is it?”

“A pack of coyotes,” I answered, though I suspect it was more likely a mother and her cubs.

“Could they attack us...and why are you retying your shoes?"  she asked with concern in her voice.

"Well...if they come for us...I want to be able to outrun you.  They tend to eat the weaker of the species," I said.

I crack myself up.  But why wouldn’t she think this?  They sound so eerie when they howl.  I’ve laid awake nights in the Adirondacks and heard their primeval call and wondered about them stumbling into my camp and thinking of me as a giant snack.  What human wouldn’t?  They don’t though.  Like almost all animals, they keep their distance from the species that exterminated them from so many parts of the planet.  I’ve seen them a number of times in the Metropark and am thrilled that they have made such a resurgence and that there is more of a ‘wild’ nature to the park.  It adds to the anticipation of every hike…what am I going to see…or hear…today.  The answer though is ‘no’ they won’t be attacking us.
We managed another 65 minutes in the woods and the perfect start to a day.  I always seem to get more accomplished when I’ve started a day early and doing a workout.  I spent hours in the yard doing things I’d been putting off for weeks, and still had time to get on the bike and take the long route back to Dan’s to pick up the van.

I did cave in to Holly at dinner, though.  She’d announced we would be having a cookout for dinner and asked me to pick up hot dogs, chips, and ice cream for milkshakes.  I made the reasonable jump, concluding this would be what we would be eating…and that it was loaded with fat.  I grabbed a slab of salmon while shopping and figured I’d grill that and eat a salad while the rest of them were gorging themselves on the delicious fat.  I was in the back digging out weeds when I heard Holly bellowing from the kitchen window.

“Did you get the salmon in the refrigerator thinking you’d be eating it for dinner tonight?”
Busted.  She explained that it would only make her parents feel bad if I had salmon while they were eating hot dogs.  I figured they’d get over it soon enough…but didn’t say that.  I went ahead with her plan and ate the dogs, beans, and drank the shake.  I felt bloated and fat, but after waiting about 30 minutes, headed out on the bike for that 2-hour ride I mentioned earlier.  Sometimes you just have to put certain aspects of your plan on hold to maintain peace in the teepee.

Hike duration:  85 minutes.  Bike duration: Two hours.
Training Heart Rate:  75 hiking and 120 for the bike.
Calories burned during workout:  425 for the hiking and 1650 for the bike.

Cinco de Mayo calories not a problem...

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Holly and I headed for the Metropark on a beautiful Saturday morning.  The sun was out, the skies were a deep blue and the temperature was in the low 60’s…perfect hiking conditions.  She followed my lead again and I took her on my favorite hiking trails with many ups and downs, which helped raise the heart rate…and calorie burn.  No owl this time…which was fine with Holly, but Dakota and I were disappointed. 

We returned home and I put together another of my spinach salads while baking a couple of chicken breasts for the perfect Paleo lunch.  I loaded my bike into Holly’s van, threw my cycling clothes on, and drove to Dan’s to drop the van for some mechanical work.  He’d need it all day Sunday and I now had the perfect excuse for a ride…the need to get home.

A straight shot would have me back under an hour…something I had no intention of doing.  I headed further east and south with every intention of adding another hour to the ride.  Holly and I were scheduled for a visit to our neighbors and a Cinco de Mayo party where I was likely to make poor eating decisions.  I wanted to burn as many calories as I had time to burn before returning home.

And talk about perfect riding weather.  Cool, sunny, only a light breeze and when you’re starting in Chardon…no place to go but down.  Yeah…I was loving it and wishing I had time to ride three hours.  Though I hadn’t been on my bike since my birthday, I felt strong and pushed the pace throughout the ride arriving home in exactly two hours.

I entered the house to the exquisite smells of Holly’s baking.  She’d made some sinfully rich dessert for the party.  It was some kind of pastry with lots of cream cheese, sugar and butter amongst other things and could easily undo a 10-hour ride.  I headed upstairs for cold shower.

I made a smoothie and took it with me to the party as a defense mechanism.  It worked, too, until I took one tiny piece of Holly’s dessert.  That was my first pass.  On the second, I loaded about five more pieces on my plate and ate most of it while returning to my chair. 

If Holly never baked, I’d probably weigh 120 pounds.

Hike duration:  65 minutes.  Bike duration: Two hours.
Training Heart Rate:  75 hiking and 120 for the bike.
Calories burned during workout:  325 for the hiking and 1650 for the bike.