"It's the gout"

Wednesday, September 26, 2012
I began the day as I had the previous one…limping to the bathroom on a painful, big toe.  It wasn’t going away and so I emailed Nilesh describing the symptoms.  He answered quickly, suggesting an appointment time that afternoon.  I quickly rearranged my schedule to accommodate his time. 
I arrived in his Akron office about thirty minutes early hoping he’d see me sooner.  The plan worked and I was in.  I took off my shoe and sock and was pleased that it looked so awful.  I didn’t want to show up with nothing and seem like a whiner.  I had also told him how the pain in my elbow had returned and that my achilles was extremely sore.  I’d written that I was getting old.  In his reply, he commented that he couldn’t do much about ‘old’.  He’s almost funny.

He looked over the toe, squeezing in a couple of spots so he could watch me wince.
“I’m going to take an x-ray just to rule out advancing arthritis, but I think it’s gout,” he said and then began probing my elbow until he had me rising out of my seat when he found the tender spot.

As he examined my, he described what he was doing to an intern he had with him.  He then asked me a question I was sure he knew the answer to.  “Who’s your primary care physician again, John?”

“Umm…Nilesh Shah,” I answered.

They both began to laugh.  “Told you he’d say that.  You really need to get a primary care doc.  When’s the last time you had a general physical?” he asked

“That…would…be…umm…the last time you did one,” I said.

They laughed again.  “Told you he’d say that, too.  John…I’ve never done one on you.”

Okay…I knew that, too, but figured he was too busy to know.

“Why do I need that primary person when I’ve got you?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

He shook his head and went on to describe my therapy for the elbow, which would include a nitroglycerin patch and eccentric weight lifting.  He gave me something to do for the achilles and concluded by sending a prescription to my pharmacist for the anti-inflammatory drug I’d be taking for the toe.

“This stuff WILL eat a hole in your stomach, so take it with a full meal,” he said.

I drove straight to the pharmacist, purchased the drugs and returned home.  I ate a large meal and downed the pill, returning to my recliner to await the blessed relief.  By bed time it had still not happened and I spent a sleepless night with a toe that just wouldn’t quit throbbing.

My big toe hurts...

Tuesday, September 25, 2012
I was surprised to wake up with the toe still bothering me.  It was swollen and pink and didn’t look so good.  I managed to pull my shoe on with some difficulty, but spent the day limping from place to place.  I drove to the park after work thinking that at the very least, I could do the Survival Workout.  I managaed six sets of different exercises while working in some time to search…and find…21 golf balls before returning to the car and driving home.

Jack and I drove to Kohl’s to try and find the right Homecoming outfit for him.  I went into sticker shock when I saw prices over $200 for a simple, black jacket.  Jack had a particular look in mind, something I knew nothing about, and tried on numerous coats and pants.  I tend to forget that kids don’t wear pants around their waists anymore…what kind of a crazy concept is THAT…so I was having troubles helping him pick a length.  He was trying on pants with a 32” length, which is what I wear and at 6’3”, he towers over me.  He ended up with a black suit, black shirt, black shoes, and a silver/black tie and with the 30% discount we got from a coupon Holly had, the whole bill was less than $300.  I suppose that’s not too bad when you consider that it’s the only dress clothes we’ve had to purchase for him in the last two years.

We came home and he tried on the entire ensemble.  He liked it, looking like something off the cover of ‘GQ’ magazine.

“I think I’m going to just keep it all on until the dance on Saturday,” he said while modeling the look for me in the living room.

“Umm…sure, Jack.  Good plan,” I said, hoping he was kidding though you never know with Jack.
I remained in an easy chair for the rest of the evening thinking that if the toe didn’t get any better by the morning, I’d be visisting with Nilesh again.  I’d spoken to my cousin Donnie and described the symptoms.

“You’ve got the gout.” he stated emphatically.

He’s suffered with it for years and reminded me my father had gone through it as well.

“My doctor at the Cleveland Clinic says it’s bad genetics…and you’ve got them,” he concluded.
I did some research on-line and had to agree with him.  The cause, high uric acid levels and the ensueing crystalization that most often manifests itself in the knuckle of the big toe causing extreme pain, redness, and swelling were certainly the symptoms I was experiencing.  Well…I’ll know tomorrow.

Back home...

Monday, September 24, 2012
Three weeks ago, I’d gone to breakfast at a diner in Cape Vincent with my aunt and uncle.  They served the biggest pancakes I’d ever seen and Heidi had been unable to eat an entire one.  As any good father would, I finished it for her.

We returned to that diner where I order TWO of those pancakes.  I was looking at a long ride back to Cleveland and didn’t want to get hungry along the way.  Little chance of that as I put away the final few bites.

When I returned home, I went about the essential tasks of storing camping gear properly for the winter.  As I worked, I noticed a pain in the knuckle of my big, right toe that wouldn’t go away.  I’ve had pain there before, mostly while out on a run, and it has always gone away in less than ten minutes.  This time would be different.

I broke my first sweat of the day disassembling and reassembling our futon in Jack’s old bedroom.  I could see that trying to move it up the stairs and into that room in one piece would probably leave me with a brain aneurism and although I’ve never had one of those, didn’t think it would be a good thing.   It came apart quite nicely; things often do for me, but I was surprised and pleased when I was able to reassemble it without and leftover pieces parts.  After moving a dresser and filing cabinet, I succumbed to the throbbing in my toe and plopped down in an easy chair for the rest of the evening.

Hiking Jay Mountain

Sunday, September 23, 2012

When I heard Donnie stirring around 7 a.m., I began packing up my gear inside my perfectly dry tent.  Nothing beats a good tent while camping in the rain and I’d positioned my pack outside my tent for easy access and packing in the morning should it still be raining.  It wasn’t.

Amazingly, there were still some hot embers in our fire pit, a testament to just how hard it is to douse a flame.  Being in a fire pit in a soggy woods with the nearest burnable tinder fifty feet away, ours was safe but I understood the restrictions the Park Service put on having fires in certain parts of the Adirondacks.  You really needed to be cautious and not all campers were.

We hiked out on trails that were somewhat treacherous from the rain, but made it back to the car in 35 minutes where we repacked our vehicles and headed for Noonmark for a final breakfast.  I tried ordering an extra pancake and some home fries to fuel myself for the climbing I planned to do after Donnie left, but they forgot my fourth cake and I just had to make do.

By nine, Donnie was on the road for Massena and I was trying to find the trailhead to Jay Mt.  My new, $11.95 full-color, water-proofed map showed the location about a hundred yards north of an intersection where it was actually about a hundred yards south.  I finally found it by looking at my old map.  It was quite obscure, being marked only by an old, iron pike painted yellow and sticking about three feet out of the side of the road and partially obscured by foliage growing in the ditch where it stood.  I was the only car there, making it doubly hard to find.  As I loaded my daypack for the hike, a second vehicle pulled up and the occupants told me they’d had the same problem with their new map. 

“We’d have never found it if you hadn’t been parked here,” one of the men said.

Many of the trails of the Adirondacks are like this one…hard to find and seldom used.  I would never have considered it if I hadn’t read about it in my bi-monthly edition of ‘The Adirondack Explorer’.  It had identified Jay Mt. as one of the best and scenic hikes in the Adirondack Park with fantastic views of the surrounding peaks from over a mile and a half of the trail that traveled along an exposed ridge.  The peak was 3,600 feet high and outside the famous 46 above 4,000 feet that is such a draw to so many hikers, including me.

The first hour of the hike was in the woods and on dirt trails without the normal rocks and roots of well-traveled Adirondack trails.  The first hour was also a steady uphill and had me sweating profusely in spite of the cool air and constant shade.  I could see the skies were still blue, though I was concerned that I’d miss these if I didn’t reach the open trail quickly since the forecast was for afternoon showers.  When I did finally reach the ridge, I was rewarded with the advertised views in every direction.  I could easily see across Lake Champlain to the east and to the Green Mts. of Vermont beyond.  To the north and west, many of the High Peaks were on display, including excellent views of Whiteface Mt. and the Olympic ski slopes.  I spent the next hour scrambling up and over exposed rock with increasingly beautiful views.  Though still gaining elevation, it was moderate at this point and with the winds blowing and no protection, I cooled off quickly.  I was forced to reach into my daypack and pull out my rain jacket for protection and some warmth.

I had a long drive scheduled to reach my Aunt and Uncle in Cape Vincent on the St. Lawrence River where I’d be staying that evening and with the time pushing one, decided I needed to cut my hike short and return to the car.  This is a hike I will most certainly take again and with people I bring to the Adirondacks to give them a real sense of its beauty.  In all, I spent 5 hours on the mountain, but in a very doable fashion.  I felt strong and refreshed when I reached the car, something I can’t say after climbing most of the 46’ers and of which only a few offered anything comparable to the scenic views I’d just experienced.

Hike Duration: 5 hours.
Training Heart Rate: 80-130 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 3000.

No hiking day...

Saturday, September 22, 2012

I was out of my tent by 7 a.m. and began gathering the firewood Donnie would need for the evening’s fire.  Without a chainsaw to cut up the downed trees in a five-square mile area of our tent site, I could really never gather enough to satisfy his pyromania, but I figured I’d do my best.  He’d never met a fire he thought was big enough.  I was combing the woods about fifty yards from the tent when I heard him calling.

“John…where the hell are you?”

“Over here.  Trying to gather enough wood to make you happy,” I said.

“Need any help?” he called back.

“Does a bear shit in your campsite while he’s eating your food?” I asked.

We worked our way around an adjoining pond and found plenty of fuel to haul back.  I could see saliva forming at the corner of Donnie’s mouth and the sparkle in his eyes as he anticipated the evening flame.  I wasn’t sure if he’d make it until then, though he didn’t have any matches with him and I’d hidden mine.  He was getting a little frantic with the thought when I decided it was time to fire the only bullet in the chamber.

“Want some breakfast?”

He shook his head, which seemed to clear his thinking and realign his priorities. 

“Hell yeah.  We’re going to Noonmark…right?”

Of course we were.  We hiked out to the trailhead with Donnie commenting regularly on the ease of this hike compared to hiking in the dark the night before.  We drove the 10 minutes back to town, made our way into the Noonmark and began consuming fresh brewed coffee while waiting for our orders.  I was hoping for an easier hike and praying that the weather would hold.  For the time, it was partially sunny, but the forecast sucked.  We finished breakfast…for me it was three blueberry pancakes that just didn’t quite hit the spot…and headed to a backpacking store up the street where we browsed for an hour and made a couple of purchases.  I picked up the latest edition of the ‘High Peaks Trail Book’ with the new, waterproofed and full color map.  The clerk in the store warned me that he’d heard there were some mistakes on the map, which can be a real issue when you’re ten miles from anywhere and counting on the thing.

We drove to the ADK Loj outside of Lake Placid where Donnie paid to take a shower.  I’d satisfied myself in the clear, frigid waters of Chapel Pond and wasn’t ready for that luxury yet.  We walked around the area taking in the sites before driving back to Keene Valley and a hike into Ausable Lake.  I’d wanted him to see the cabins and hotel on the grounds of the Ausable Club whose property the trail passed through on the way to the peaks I’d climbed the day before, but we’d only gone about ten minutes when the rains began to fall.  I thought he had Wicked Witch of the West genes in him the way he wanted to get out of the rain.  We returned to the car and drove back into town to do some browsing at the shops there.

While investigating a store offering rustic furnishings, we discovered they also accommodated overnight guests on their second floor.  I’d been talking about coming back up with Holly and knew camping was out of the question, so I asked if we could see the rooms.  The clerk suggested we just go up and look around.  I bumped into a woman at the top of the stairs who looked as if she’d just finished taking a shower.  When we walked into the kitchen area…it was set up like a youth hostel…we found about five ladies running around preparing dinner and drinking.  Of course they eyed me over.

“We were thinking of eating at the ADK Café, but whatever you’re making smells pretty good,” I said.

“Maybe you should join us,” the lady who’d taken the shower replied.

Donnie remained speechless behind me.  Pretty women do that to him.  So does the offer of food and we’d snacked earlier but never really had a lunch.  I laughed it off and headed back down the stairs with Donnie lagging behind.  He purchased a walking stick for $20 and a bar of pine scented soap and we headed for the car and the ADK Café.

“John…they really wanted us to stay for dinner I think,” he said.

“Maybe.  But with six of them and only one of me, it could have gotten ugly in there,” I said.

He nodded his head in agreement and we made our way to the ADK Café where we’d been told they served a mean burger and large quantities of fries.  We’d been told though, that they didn’t accept cash.  When the person advising us to eat there informed us of this, I asked her to repeat herself.

“They don’t accept cash.”

“You mean they won’t accept U.S. currency…or legal tender…for goods and services?  I’m pretty sure that’s against the law and I know that it’s stupid as hell,” I said.  I didn’t have John to check on the legality of the issue and it didn’t really matter since I wanted to pay by credit card, but I was dumbfounded.

We arrived at the diner to find a sign posted on the door “credit cards only…no cash accepted” and when I inquired with our waitress, she seemed as perplexed as us.  She described the scenario that had led the owner to the decision, but I garnered nothing from her telling that brought any sense to his action.   Oh well…the burgers were good and though the fries were not in the abundance we’d been picturing, there were enough.

We returned to the trailhead with a light rain still falling and fears for our ability to get and keep a fire going.  I had no doubt that if we could start it…and I knew I could…Donnie would keep it going.  Once back in our site, I built a teepee of twigs over some paper and birch bark and lit the fire.  It immediately sprung to life.  I’d covered our meager pile of firewood with a tarp before leaving that morning and stood some longer logs against a pine tree, so it was dry.  We built a nice fire and kept it going for the next three hours against intermittent rain.

It continued to rain, heavily at times, throughout the night.  Hurricane force winds began howling around three in the morning and continued for a couple of hours, having the positive effect of drying out the tents and trails.  I hadn’t gotten much activity during the day…maybe a total of 90 minutes of easy hiking…but any day in the Adirondacks is a good day.

Hike Duration: 90 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 80 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 450.

The toughest day ever...

Friday, September 21, 2012

I was hiking out by 7 a.m. with the goal of eating a breakfast at the car and moving to the trailhead ready to climb by 7:30 a.m.  Things were right on schedule and I was about ready to hike when another hiker approached and began a conversation about what we were climbing and where we were from.  When I mentioned Highland Heights, he said his step grandkids, in the van with him, went to school at Mayfield.  One of the two boys heard this and my name and walked over.

“Are you Jack Rolf’s dad?”

“Yes I am.  You know Jack?” I asked, amazed at the coincidence of meeting someone he knew 500 miles from home.

“Yeah…we’re in the same class!  He told me he was up here a couple of weeks ago,” he replied.

We talked a little longer and by the time I left, I’d given up 20 minutes of daylight.  I knew I’d have to move fast all day if I was to have any chance of making all four peaks and this was an auspicious beginning.

I began climbing a steep, rocky trail to a mountain called Lower Wolfjaws.  It was challenging and when I reached it three hours later around 11 a.m., I was concerned about time…and energy.  I spent only minutes on the peak and began descending and climbing the mile of trail to Upper Wolfjaws.  It was extremely an extremely difficult trail with many false paths and steep pitches.  It took about an hour and when I reached its peak at noon, I needed to take some time to rest and consume some calories.  I ate an apple and two bars and was again descending in 15 minutes, making the 1-mile trek to the peak of Mt. Armstrong. 

As I ascended the final feet of Armstrong, I noticed cramping and trembling in my quads.  I was extremely pleased to have gotten in three peaks, but felt that it was time to head for the trail that would descend to my car.  Before leaving the peak, I met up with my first person since the parking lot five hours earlier.  He turned out to be from Canton…making the only people I’d seen that day Ohioans.  He’d come from the peak of Gothics Mt., the final peak I’d been considering, and convinced me to give it a try.  When I reached the trail junction that would take me down or lead up to Gothics, I decided I’d go the half mile up.

I reached the peak at 2 p.m. and found it completely fogged in, which could mean bad weather on the way.  I could see no more than fifty feet, which made for hazardous climbing conditions and after a brief stay to renourish and make a couple of phone calls (sometimes there is cell reception if the peak is high enough and this one was) began my three-plus hour descent back to the car.

I took extra precautions during the descent because I was so tired and didn’t want to risk injury.  I did pass a couple that was moving slower, which was good since I figured if I fell; they’d be passing me and could offer help.  I was surprised at just how few people were climbing that day.  I staggered over the last couple of miles back to the car and was as exhausted as I’ve ever been when I arrived there.  I’d been out on a trail for about ten hours and covered fifteen miles with much of that steep verticals.  My feet were extremely sore and my achilles had been hurting all day.  Still…I reveled in the fact that I’d just knocked off four tough peaks of the 46 High Peaks.

I was scheduled to meet Donnie at the Noonmark Diner at 6:30, which left me with enough time to dip into the cold, clear waters of Chapel Pond for a clean-up.  Nothing revitalizes me like dipping into these mountain ponds and I cleaned rapidly while shivering from the cold.  It felt wonderful to knock off the mud and sweat of the trail and to pull on clean clothes and I was feeling almost normal as I drove to the Diner.  I ordered a bowl of chili and hot coffee while waiting and wolfed down a ham and mushroom omelet with a strawberry shake once Donnie arrived.  I was famished.

We made our way back to the trailhead after dark and were forced to hike back to Round Pond with headlamps on and at a slow, steady pace.  Forty minutes later, we arrived in camp and began the process of setting up Donnie’s tent…one he’d never used before.  It was too dark to search for more firewood, so we talked with lights on for an hour before retiring to our tents.  My feet were so sore from the hike that I struggled to fall asleep.  The rain that was predicted for the late afternoon and evening thankfully stayed away though and it was a pleasant evening.

Hike Duration: Ten hours.
Training Heart Rate: 80-160 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 8000.

Heading for the Adirondacks again...

Wednesday/Thursday

I spent Wednesday evening preparing for the trip and decided not to do any exercise.  I made the drive on Thursday with the only activity being the hike into Round Pond with a 35-pound pack, which isn’t too strenuous.  I arrived at the site with enough time to set up camp and forage for some dry wood, which was in short supply since the rains have been falling steadily in the mountains recently.  I gathered a good deal of birch bark from downed trees though, and this got a nice fire going even with damp wood.  It turned out to be a perfect evening, in the forties and clear skies so I left the tent flaps open and enjoyed watching the twinkling of the stars.  Friday, I would be tackling my toughest day of hiking and climbing ever with the goal of hitting four of the major peaks.  My biggest concern other than fatigue would be if I had the time to get in done while it was still light.

Hike Duration: 25 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 90 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 150.

I guess I'm climbing alone...

Tuesday, September 18, 2012
John and Don confirmed they would not be joining me in the Adirondacks.  Don had lame excuses about too much paperwork and when I told Holly I would be climbing Friday alone, she suggested that maybe it was me.

“No one wants to go with you.  Have you asked yourself why?”

“Well...Donnie will be meeting me there on Saturday...so he wants to go with me,” I said.

“He’s family.  He feels obligated and that doesn’t count,” she said.

Maybe.  I’d asked Kim and Marie to drop classes and come and they’d said they couldn’t.  I’d let more than a few friends know I was going and no one asked if I wanted company.  I don’t know.  I bathe when I travel, though it is in freezing streams.  I’m a brilliant conversationalist...you can ask me if you’re unsure.  I can be charming and humble.  Maybe it’s not me.  Maybe the backcountry isn’t for everyone.  I’m sticking with that.

I wrestled with what to do for a workout.  I should have done a Survival Workout, but I’ve been limited in what I can do by both the elbow and the achilles.  I decided instead to go home and eat.  I scrambled up some eggs and added sautéed mushrooms, onions and broccoli.  I brooded for an hour after eating and when I noticed the skies were clearing, decided to go for a ride. 

I was on the road by six and thinking I had 90 minutes before dark set in.  I was wrong.  Again.  It was cooler and I’d put a cotton t-shirt on under my riding jersey.  There was a strong wind blowing, which was good since it added to the difficulty of the workout.  I headed into Waite Hill, but shortened my normal course to allow for the shortening daylight...only not enough.  My final ten minutes were ridden amongst cars with headlights on.  I pushed hard over the final miles to minimize my exposure and was reasonably tired when I arrived home and pleased that I’d made myself do something on a night that I’d almost blown off.

I got hungry towards the end of the evening and had a taste for baked beans...which I don’t bake, but heat up on the stove.  I added brown sugar, mustard and catsup and had two broiled hot dogs to make the meal as fatty and unhealthy as I could.  I have these cravings now and again, and I try not to fight too hard with them.  What’s the point?  I eat it and put it behind me for another couple of weeks. 

Bike Duration: 95 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 1350.

Getting Donnie ready for the Adirondacks...

Monday, September 17, 2012
My legs were still feeling the effects of the 65 miler from Saturday as I launched myself down the driveway heading out on the Waite Hill course.  I’d decided to ride comfortably to work out the aches, but this idea faded as the ride went on and I felt better.  At some point in the ride, I decided I felt strong enough to make the ride longer by adding in a couple of long hills, which I did and ended up with a two hour ride.

After cleaning up, I rearranged furniture into the room I’d just painted and broke another sweat.  Once this was done, I sat down and tried to map out a couple of hikes I thought my cousin would enjoy when we got together in the Adirondacks.  He’s gotten pretty serious about the trip, adding a new, internal-frame backpack and a lightweight, two-man tent to his cache.  When I mentioned that he was now prepared for some longer, backcountry hikes, he admitted he wanted to do some. 

“Donnie...we’ve been joking about Sherpa’s carrying all your overweight gear, but now is probably the time to tell you there really aren’t any Sherpa’s in upstate New York,” I said.

“Well John...I knew that.  I’ve still got the truck and the Ranger though,” he said.  The Ranger was his answer to a poor man’s ATV.  It was the only four-passenger vehicle of this type I’d ever seen.

“Good thinking, Don.  I’m sure the Ranger will get you where you want to go almost as well as the Sherpa’s could,” I said.

I’d taken Donnie up Mt. Van Hoevenberg, a reasonably challenging climb with fabulous views of the High Peaks and on that day he’d worn blue jeans...and suffered.  I’ve alerted him to the ‘cotton kills’ expression and told him to pack accordingly for this trip, but he learns slowly.  I want to climb Jay and Noonmark Mts. with him since both have spectacular views and aren’t the type that need tremendous conditioning.  Not that he’s in bad shape, but I want the hikes to be fun so I can hook him into doing bigger ones on future trips.  Just as I do with people I take through workouts, I’m always trying to inspire them to do more and making them suffer never accomplishes that task...in my opinion.  When I last spoke to Donnie last night and told him I didn’t think John would be joining us, he asked me to pass a message along to him.

“Tell John to take off his baby pants and put his man pants back on and come to the Adirondacks with you,” he said. 

He has little sympathy for John’s injuries.

Bike Duration: Two hours.
Training Heart Rate: 125 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 1700.

Day after soreness...

Sunday, September 16, 2012
When I took my first steps of the morning, I knew I wouldn’t be riding that day.  Yesterday’s ride had been a little too much time in the saddle after two months of sporadic riding.  I also knew I couldn’t run since the achilles continues to ache and I don’t want to inflame it just before heading back to the Adirondacks, but I had to do something.  I headed for the Mayfield track with a plan bubbling.

I began with push-ups, dips and crunches before moving into the bleachers for a set of 10 repeats.  I tried alternating my jog pace up the steps with climbing two steps at a time, but at a walk pace.  I found this to be slightly faster, which meant slightly harder and also seemed to be easier on the achilles.  After the tenth repeat, I returned to the track with the intention of jogging a half mile, but after one lap the achilles soreness had me abandoning that plan.  I did my second set of push-ups and dips and then did another 10 sets in the bleachers.  One more set of calesthenics followed by a final set in the bleachers had me sweating heavily and satisfied that I’d done a decent workout the day after a four-hour ride.

Holly and I went to the park later in the afternoon and did a one-hour hike and when we returned, I sat down with my trail map and guide book and began laying out what I hoped to climb if I ended up going alone.  John and I were planning an aggressive day bagging a couple of the toughest peaks in the Adirondacks and I saw no reason to alter that objective.  I tentatively planned a route that, with luck, could have me climbing four of the 46 peaks over 4,000 feet.  When I’ve planned this kind of aggressive day in the past, I tend to bite off more than I can chew.  I know I have the conditioning to do it, but don’t know if I have the time.  The trail would be about 12 miles with over 5,000 feet of elevation change and probably take ten hours to complete.  The weather will have to be perfect and the trail conditions optimal if I’m to get it done.  At the very least, I hope to climb two this Friday before Donnie joins me.  If I get it done, I’ll have no trouble sleeping that night.

Bleacher/Survival Workout: 45 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 120-150.
Calories burned:  675.

A long, sore ride...

Saturday, September 15, 2012
I was up early because I had big plans for the day.  I had to paint and do the lawn, but the weather was perfect for riding and I WAS going to do a long one.  I had the first coat on Jack’s room before ten and needed to let it dry.  I also needed to let the dew dry from the grass…so that meant it was time to ride.  I put in a call to Dan before leaving and left a message that I’d be riding his way and he could join me if he wanted to.  Then I headed out on what I meant to make a fifty miler.

I rode hard for the first hour even though I knew I’d be going close to another two.  I was riding along Pekin and out around 21 miles when I stopped the bike to check my voicemail for Dan’s reply.  He’d called and said he couldn’t ride, but alerted me to the fact that he had a watermelon in the fridge and I should stop by and help myself.  I thought about that offer, but decided I’d keep heading east to Middlefield and enjoy the serenity of Amish country.  That…and making a long ride even longer.
I finally turned around a little past the 30-mile mark, remembering that I wasn’t going back the way I’d come, so I’d be getting in closer to 65 miles of riding.  I hadn’t been close to that number in a couple of months, which meant I shouldn’t be trying it now…but I felt great and the day was cool, sunny and pleasant.

I continued to ride hard and feel good for about half of the ride home.  Then the reality of riding that far and spending close to four hours in the saddle began to set in.  My butt, shoulders, neck and quads were all beginning to rebel and by the time I actually reached my drive, everything but my eyebrows was hurting.  I had a freakishly heavy salt build-up on my face and had exhausted my water supply.  When I dismounted, I hobbled like an 80-year old man, but I was happy with the effort and had renewed confidence in my ability to endure.

We spent the evening with the neighbors around our fire pit.  It was cool and Holly had a blanket wrapped around her, but we kept a nice fire going for three hours.  I can’t think of much that brings me more pleasure than to sit around a crackling fire…outside and under the stars…with good friends and family.  I’m looking forward to more of it next weekend on Round Pond in the Adirondacks where my cousin Donnie is sure to try and build a fire that can be viewed from space.

Bike Duration: Three hours and 50 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 3250.

Painting, pizza, and chocolate shakes...

Friday, September 14, 2012
The ride with Todd the day before had inspired me to get back to my every day riding.  It remains the easiest thing on my body and I really enjoy it…so why not?  Well…one reason is it happens to be at least somewhat weather dependent, and a cold rain was falling after work.  I decided against starting in such conditions and instead began moving the weights from what we called the ‘Weight Room’ downstairs so I could paint it and move Jackie into it.  There was probably 750 pounds of weight in the room and I had to carry it all downstairs.  It took many trips and I thought about the benefit my legs were getting and how that would be helpful with the coming trip to the Adirondacks.

When I finally had the room cleared, there was still time for a run.  My left achilles continues to hurt, so I weighed that option against doing all the cutting in necessary to getting the room painted.  I elected to paint.  I was just finished when Holly’s dad arrived.  I’d forgotten he was coming for dinner and that we were having pizza and chocolate shakes and was now wishing I’d done more to burn calories since I was about to pack on some nasty ones.  I suppose I could have made a smoothie and had a salad and just watched the others eat that Jet’s pizza and suck down the thick, chocolate shakes I’d made…but that wasn’t happening.  I ate six pieces and had a second glass full of shake before declaring I was a hog and stopping myself.  I did manage some self control as the box still had four pieces in it…but I wasn’t proud.  Tomorrow I’d ride long…and paint…and cut the grass with a hand mower.  Tomorrow I’d do all that.

Painting/moving weights duration: Two hours.
Training heart rate: 80-90 bpm.
Calories burned during workout:  500.
Calories consumed while going wild with pizza/milkshakes:  Maybe 1,500.

Riding with Todd...

Thursday, September 13, 2012

I’d received a call from Todd Miller, my companion on my 1,100 mile bike trek following my senior year of high school.  He was passing through town and had his carbon-fiber, high tech racing bike with him and wanted to go out for a ride.  If only John hadn’t crashed ‘The Rocket’, I could have borrowed it and had a chance of staying with him.  He rides and races extensively, channeling all that energy he once used to fly fighter jets for the Navy into cycling.  He’s as intense a person as I’ve ever known, and I’ve had the pleasure of knowing some folks who were pretty tightly wrapped.

He arrived in my driveway, unloaded his bike…his front wheel had it’s own storage bag in the back of the vehicle…pumped the tires up, strapped on a heart rate monitor, and was ready to go.  I thought of asking him to provide a urine sample to be sure I wouldn’t be working against any unfair practices, but then I remembered it was me who did the cheating to win…not him.

We headed out for the Waite Hill course and I was cruising at 22 mph with him breezing merrily along behind me.  When we reached the first climb, he simply sped past me and quickly became a speck on the horizon.  He trains in the Virginian hills and specifically looks for races that have numerous hills.  He’s doing a 100-mile race next weekend with 8,000 feet of elevation change.  Bascially…he eats them for breakfast.  I caught him a couple of hundred yards past the top and he didn’t seem to be breathing heavily.
“You…ass…hole…” I gasped when I pulled along side him.

“What?  Hey…I had to get in some hard hill work,” he said.

Recapturing my breath, I asked him how hard he’d gotten his heart rate.

“It was in the red zone…over 150,” he said, which made me feel a little better.  At least he’d been pushing to get up the hill.

The rest of the ride was a chance to catch up and talk bike riding.  Big Red and I could handle his speed in the flats, but his conditioning and a bike 8 pounds lighter and with pure racing wheels (the most important improvement for speed to a bike is the rotating weight) were much more than we could handle on the climbs.  In my next life, I’ll be owing one of those sweet machines.  I made him a smoothie when we returned and we sat and talked about my Tour Ohio adventure for next summer.  I again alerted him to the fact that it would not be a race and I was only having him along if he could grasp the concept of ‘recreational riding.’  He promised he could, but he had that killer glint in his eye.

Bike Duration: One hour and 40 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 125 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 1400.

The Indians are making me crazy...

Wednesday, September 12, 2012
As many of you know, I’m a frustrated Cleveland Indians fan.  I’ve lived through some of the worst baseball in major league history for roughly 25 years with them and then, out of nowhere, came the teams of the mid-90’s that looked like winning teams should and did so for at least ten years.  What made the difference?  There’s an old expression used in management with origins in the kitchen which goes “the fish starts smelling at the head” and referring to the fact that actions from the top cause what’s happening in the trenches.  I think Dick Jacobs and his philosophy of ownership and key personnel decision making had every effect on the product the Indians put on the field over those years.  We had names like Albert Belle, Jim Thome, Carlos Baerga, Kenny Lofton, Manny Ramirez, Omar Vizquel, Robby and Sandy Alomar, Charles Nagy, Jose Mesa, and Eddie Murray to name a few.  I don’t know the particulars about how each of these ended up in an Indians uniform, but they did...and at the same time, thankfully.  Now, you look at the current crop of ‘talent’ and think about how it arrived.  So many are the result of three trades that involved our losing two Cy Young award winning pitchers and one of the game’s best hitters.  As the season’s tailspin continues, someone at the top...the very top...needs to do something significant.  I don’t think the owner will fire his son, who supposedly runs the team, so maybe he just needs to fire himself and, like the Browns, let someone else give it a try.

I met with a friend last night who, two years ago, asked me to design a program that would allow her to run her first 5K.  She had spent most of her adult life completely out of shape and had packed on the pounds that come with a life of eating poorly and no physical activity.  She’d gotten religion though, and had changed her diet significantly and lost a lot of weight.  I wrote her a walk/jog program that had her running and completing that 5K in 30 minutes some months later.  After the run though, she had no other goals set and let some of the weight return.  She was eating a sandwich from Subway that was loaded with all the wrong calories and something she wouldn’t have eaten two years ago. 

“I need to get started again, but I don’t have enough time to train for the 5K I did two years ago.  It’s in October,” she said as a way of justifying doing nothing at this time.

“That’s easy.  I’ll write you a program for a race on Thanksgiving Day.  There are plenty of races around here on that day so I’m sure you have them in Virginia,” I offered.

She knew that was doable and agreed.  Like so many people...me included...she needed a specific goal on a particular date to stay focused.  Though I’m able to maintain my workout year round, I always do better when I know I’ve got something I need to be ready for, like the Adirondacks or my birthday triathlon.  She’ll be on track again soon and I hope she’s figured out that when the Thanksgiving Day run is done, she’ll need another goal right behind it.

John called forewarning me that he’s unsure about the Adirondacks.  He’s still sore as hell with both his ribs and shoulder causing serious pain.  It’s still ten days off and he may feel immensely better by then, but I suspect his biggest problem will be sleeping on the ground.  He struggled with neck and back issues in the back country before the bike accident and I doubt the crash will have improved anything.  I’d hate to lose him as a hiking/climbing partner, but I know how miserable it can be to go without sleep over several nights.  The backcountry has its rewards, but they come with a price.  I hope he’ll make it.

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

Exercising on 9/11...

Tuesday, September 11, 2012
I was planning a workout with a friend, let’s call her ‘Maureen’, following work.  I was thinking of introducing her to the Survival Workout, though on an introductory level.  It was also a run day and I didn’t want to miss it, so I went to the park before work and managed a 40-minute effort.  My left achilles has been aching with every run for the past several weeks and I place the blame on the minimalist shoes, since I have nothing else I can pinpoint.  I decided to go back to my old fashioned, thickly-soled traditional running shoe to see if it would make a difference.  It certainly didn’t during the run.

I returned to the park with Maureen after work and stopped at the Ranger Station.  While she changed in the bathroom, I did the same...quickly...in the parking lot.  I was concerned that my standard operating, sleeves ripped away t-shirt would frighten her, so I reached onto the floor of the Honda and grabbed the only t-shirt there...a dirty, wrinkled wadded-up mess.  I turned it right side out and pulled it over my head.  Only then did I realize it was the 9/11 t-shirt my son Jason had designed in 2001. Our church youth group had then sold it to raise funds for a trip to NYC and Ground Zero.  When Maureen emerged from the bathroom, I pointed out the shirt, which we both found significantly coincidental, and then explained her exercise options.

“I have to do 20 minutes of running, but after that I’ll do anything you want,” she said. 

The achilles was aching, but I didn’t want to admit there was something I couldn’t do, so we headed for my favorite trail where I figured we’d run for her 20 minutes, then hike the rest of the way down to the marsh and back.  I ran a little ahead of her and warned her about he hazards of this trail…roots and rocks waiting for the chance to trip you up.

“Don’t get me started on running and falling,” she said…which apparently I had as she described her worst experience.

“I did a face plant onto a sidewalk in Lakewood,” she said.

“Raised section?” I asked.

“Yeah, there was that.  And it was night time.  And I was looking in somebody’s picture window…for decorating ideas, of course,” she said.

“Of course,” I answered.  I had experience with this behavior.  Holly often asks me to drive slower when we’re riding down a side street at night so she can look in windows.  When we’re walking, I think she takes pictures with her cell phone…to get those same decorating ideas, I’m sure.

“I had stitches inside my mouth, on my face and something up my nose to help me breathe.  I was a mess,” she said.

And all that for what you could have gotten in any edition of ‘Good Housekeeping’.  Actually, she had other things wrong, but they were to many for me to remember and besides, I was busy looking at the ground so I wouldn’t do another header myself.

We finished the run and then began a bushwack down to the marsh.  I don’t know if she liked it or was just being kind, but I figure anyone can walk on the trails…my hikes are meant to be special with a tad more exertion.  We ended up back at the cars ninety minutes after we left and I’ll find out how much she liked it based on how soon she asks for another trek.

Run Duration: 40 minutes.  Run/hike duration: 90 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 140 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 675 running and 550 on the run/hike.

New PR for 'Big Red'

Monday, September 10, 2012
I’m not sure what I was expecting when I climbed on ‘Big Red’ for my bike ride, but I know it was nothing special.  It was a clear, cool night and there was little breeze or humidity.  If I was going to ride fast, this was the night.  My legs felt great as I headed through the warm-up phase over the first five minutes and I realized that I was moving pretty quickly with what seemed like very little effort.  That’s a good way to start any workout.

When I hit the seven mile mark in 21 minutes, a pace of 20 mph, I knew it could be a really good day.  I was on the Waite Hill course where I had a tough pr on both Big Red and The Rocket.  As I reached the top of the hill on Sperry Road and checked my time...56 minutes...I knew I could challenge my course record if I hammered all the way home.

That in itself is a daunting task.  I was about 40 minutes from home and I’d have to challenge myself the entire time to establish a new pr.  Frankly, that means discomfort for 40 minutes...and why would I do that to myself...again?  I honestly don’t know because it matters to no one but me.  And yet, I ratcheted up my efforts, deciding to go for it.  I was finding only one difficulty.  Because the sun was setting earlier, I found that as I headed home, due west, I was riding right into the sun.  It was low in the sky and rather blinding.  I was having difficulties seeing anything in front of me and it had me wondering how well the cars coming up behind me could see me.  Obviously, not well.  My only recourse was to ride harder and faster.

I couldn’t help but think of John’s last ride and crash as I whistled down Wilson Mills Hill at 54 mph.  The road was dry and it’s a straight shot, but it’s also quite fast for a bike.  Well...it’s also a rush and I know I won’t be stopping it anytime soon.  I climbed through the Metropark, checking my watch.  I could see my record on The Rocket was out of reach, but I had a good shot at my pr on Big Red.  I rode the final miles hard and reached my driveway a minute under my previous best, but still 4 minutes slower than the best time I’d ever recorded while riding The Rocket.

My legs felt strong and with no cramping.  I was pleased with a fast time since I hadn’t been expecting it.  My riding miles are way down, as well, so it was doubly pleasing to know that my conditioning is still at a high point with the Adirondacks less than two weeks away.  All I have to do is maintain and stay healthy...and pray for some good climbing weather.

Bike Duration: One hour and 41 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 125 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 1500.

Going crazy with Cleveland sports teams...

Sunday, September 9, 2012
Be a fan of professional sports teams in Cleveland can be frustrating, to say the least.  The last time one of the big three (Browns, Indians, Cavs) won a championship was 1964 when the Browns were football’s best team.  Since that time, the three teams have had a combined 130 chances to win a championship.  Our record for that time stand at 0-130.  On this day, the ‘new look’ Browns got started...and lost...17-16 to the Philadelphia Eagles.  They played well defensively, but really didn’t look like they had it together on offense.  Up in Minnesota, the Indians were putting the finishing touches on another pathetic effort, losing to the last place Twins, 8-7, but threatening to replace the Twins in the cellar within a short time.

I can’t say that I expected much more.  I’m a Clevelander now...we expect to lose.  Sure...the Indians came close in ’95 and ’97, losing with style in the World Series.  Their current management doesn’t seem to have a clue.  Two Cy Young award winning pitchers were traded away in recent history and it would appear that little came of those deals.  They could use the help of my nephew, Jonathon, who just installed a rudder on my kayak.  Sure helps with direction.  The Browns have never made it to the Super Bowl since that game was introduced in 1965, but we’ve had some interesting losses in the AFC championship to make sure we didn’t make it.  The Cavs were swept in 4 games during the LeBron era when they made it to the finals against San Antonio and I suspect it may be a few years before they have a shot at a championship again.  I’ll keep rooting, particularly for the Indians, but when watching the baseball documentary with Don the other night and asking him if he thought I’d see a World Series victory from the Indians if I lived as long as my 106-year old grandmother, he said, “Not even if you were a baby.” 

I pushed through a tough Survival Workout, but the elbow pain continues to escalate.  Cortisone masked the pain, but nothing has cured so I’ll be returning to the doctor’s after the Adirondacks looking for some answers. 

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

Doing the smart thing...

Saturday, September 8, 2012
Jason stopped over to pick up his car and leave the Jeep behind.  He was with one of his rugby teammates and asked if I was coming to see the match that afternoon.

“Kinda forgot to tell you about it and I don’t know if I’ll get in the game, but our regular photographer won’t be there and I could use some good shots for the website,” he said.

Now...I was supposed to be working around the house and going with Holly to Home Depot to pick out a new kitchen light and some paint to do Jack’s bedroom.  I had to fit a bike ride in, as well.  But being the good dad that I am, I pushed that all aside and agreed to go to the match.

I took photographs for the entire match, a tough loss to the team from Pittsburgh (Cleveland teams never seem to beat them in any sport) and was saying ‘goodbye’ to Jason when he told me they were playing a ‘B’ squad game and he’d be in it.  It was 3:30 p.m. by now and I’d done none of the things I was supposed to with Holly.  He went to warm up and after 20 more minutes without a game starting, I decided I needed to cut my losses and head home.  Holly cooks for me and does my laundry and I needed those things more than I needed to see another rugby match.  It turned out to be the right decision.

I managed to make it to Home Depot, cut the grass, and finish painting the last of the windows on the house.  I did not however, fit in a workout.  Instead, I had dinner with Holly and watched a silly Sandra Bullock movie called ‘The Proposal’.  Sometimes you sacrifice the workout and the kids for personal salvation.  I got right with the House, for once.

A dose of reality...

Friday, September 7, 2012
I’d driven Jason’s car back to Dan’s for a brake job two days earlier.  It had made some of the worst noises I’d ever heard coming from the place where the disc’s were supposed to stop the car.  It had made me nervous and so I’d tried to find the route that would require the least amount of stopping and had used the gears effectively to slow the car and avoid braking.  I was sure they were shot when I’d rolled into Dan’s drive, but when he called to say it was ready to pick up, he’d said they weren’t that bad...just noisy.  He also said he had some watermelon waiting since he knew I’d be riding out to pick it up.

It had been some time since I’d done any long riding and since I had two hours before dark, decided I’d use every minute riding.  The humidity was still high and there was thunder in the distance, but I was determined to ride.  I’d gotten about 15 minutes away when the first drops began to pelt me, but they never really got that hard and the cool water made the ride more pleasant.

I couldn’t help think of John losing control of his bike on his last ride though, and rode with caution on the slippery pavement.  I was nearly to Dan’s, having ridden over 2 hours already and riding along Woodybrook Road in Chardon when I saw an emergency vehicle blocking the road ahead.  I rode up to the officer and asked if I could get through.  He said no, that there was a bad accident at the foot of the hill and I’d have to ride back and go through downtown Chardon. 

“I’m five minutes from my destination and what you’re describing will take thirty and it will be dark by then and I don’t have lights on the bike,” I said.

“Well...I suppose if you walk the bike on the lawns you could make it through,” he said.

I thanked him and proceeded down the hill.  I really didn’t want to go by the scene, but I really was out of choices.  Riding on the narrow stretch of Wilson Mills between downtown Chardon and Dan’s place in the dark and with no sidewalks would be an invitation to another emergency call for this crew...which clearly had its hands full.  There was a car upside down on the grass just off the road and a second in the middle of the street with extensive damage to its front end.  Someone was being loaded on a stretcher into the back of an emergency vehicle parked at the bottom.  Though I don’t know, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that the accident had been the result of the very slick, wet road I’d just been riding on.  It was a tar and chip finish, which tends to have very slick spots when wet.  I’d been hydroplaning myself more than once during the ride.

It was a quick and painful reminder of how fleeting life is.  The boy standing dazed outside the wrecked car looked to be a high school kid, probably on his way to the Friday night game.  His life, most certainly, had just changed forever.  I crossed myself, thanked God that John had not been hurt more seriously on his bike last week, and prayed for those who had been involved.  The remainder of the ride was a sobering one.

Bike Duration: Two hours and 10 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 1850.

Running, bleachers and baseball...

Thursday, September 6, 2012
I went to the park to do a run with the thought that it would be slow.  Humidity was still in the tropical rain forest range and my motivation was ebbing.  I’m approaching the end of my ‘season’, which for me is typically climbing in the Adirondacks in the fall, and I’m ready.  There is some uncertainty as to how much I’ll be doing based on whether John can come and if he can, what he’ll be able to do.  I don’t think we’ll set any hiking records though.  He recovers quickly...lots of practice...but there is just so much you can do after the crash he’s been through.

I slogged off and almost stopped and returned to the car after a couple of minutes...I was that far out of it.  I pressed on though and managed 35 minutes of sweaty running.  I returned to the car and thought about stopping at the track to do some bleacher work.  I was undecided right up to the point that I parked my car outside the stadium and began walking towards it.  I could see the football team practicing on the field and a number of people on the track observing.  As I walked towards the gate, an unidentified person who I assumed was part of the construction crew told me the track was still under construction.  I’m guessing he saw my outfit from the run and figured I was there to use the track.  Players, coaches and spectators could trample all over it, but my two feet somehow were not welcome.  At that point, I knew I’d be going in.

I looked him in the eye and said nothing, walking for the bleachers.  There was someone sitting in them and I figured if anyone wanted me out, they’d have to catch me.  The construction worker with the gut was not the man for the job.

I managed to do 16 sets in 10 minutes, pushing my heart rate to 180.  No one bothered me, which is as it should have been.  The construction job was done as evidenced by the presence of the football squad on the field, so why hassle the voters whose tax dollars supported this project in the first place?  Oh well...maybe I’m just a little sensitive.

I returned home completely whipped.  I’d done a walk with Holly that morning and the combination of the bleachers and running had left my legs wobbly.  I called Don and asked him to come over to eat spaghetti and watch ‘Inning Seven’ of the baseball documentary by Ken Burns.  He agreed and we ate large quantities of pasta and garlic toast which we washed down with a fruit smoothie.  It was a great segment, covering baseball’s golden era of the fifties when blacks had finally been allowed to play and New York teams, the Giants, Dodgers and Yankees dominated play.  Outstanding footage of the greats...Willie, Mickey and the Duke, were mixed in with Abbott and Costello’s famous ‘Who’s on first’ routine and made it the best segment we’d seen yet.  It surely had me aching for the old neighborhood, backyard baseball and the care-free times of a childhood growing up on Debra Lane, Bristol, Ct.

Run/Bleacher Duration: 45 minutes.  Hike Duration: 60 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 140-180 running, 80 hiking.
Calories burned during workout: 850 running, 300 hiking.