Monday, September 13, 2010
John wanted to get together at his place to go over the final details of our trip. Although I’d done this with him four times already, he doesn’t remember that he doesn’t remember so I’ll do it again. I packed my bike since we always ride from my place, I thought I’d give his routes a try. He lives in Twinsburg and says the roads aren’t nearly as good for biking and I suspected he was right.
We rode some side streets from his place to, well, I don’t know where he was headed. When we came to one stretch where road crews were doing construction and the water truck had just passed through to keep the dust down, I knew I was in trouble.
“It’s all mud up there,” I said, knowing there was no way around the mess. John was riding on grass, gravel and anything he could find to avoid the muddy street. I just plowed ahead, covering my legs, the bike, and sending a beautiful stream of mud up my backside all the way to my neck. I was looking fine.
“I’m going to be rusting like the Tin Man in no time. Do you have my oil can?” I asked. He didn’t and I began to squeak.
We rode on busy streets…it was around 5 p.m. after all…and when we turned off the main artery, it was only to ride a road that had more potholes than Cuyahoga County has crooks working government jobs. My teeth were rattling and I was trying to maintain a pace that wouldn’t have me blow a tire…or a bike frame.
“How in God’s name do you put up with this shit? There has to be better roads to ride,” I said.
“Um…I actually don’t know the roads that well around here and I’m always in a time crunch so I just head out and ride hard to wherever…” he said. Shrewd. Give John books and he eats them. Fortunately for him, he has me when we go into the woods. He’d die in six hours otherwise.
We finished the ride bumping over roads that became never seemed to get any better. If I’d have known, I’d have brought the mountain bike I don’t own. We rode 20 miles in a little over an hour, which is pretty fast considering the conditions of the roads. I was caked in dried mud and he was clean somehow. We went in and discussed the climbing we’d be doing on Saturday when we would be hitting four major peaks. John kept looking at the map and then to me.
“Are you sure about this? It’s how many miles of hiking and climbing?”
“I don’t know exactly. Maybe 16 miles? Hey…you’re a lot younger and lighter. If I can do it…so can you,” I said. He looked concerned, though. I also outlined how we’d be climbing another two major peaks on Monday after a day off…the day we’d only climb one smaller one with my cousin, Donnie.
“I’ve been warning you for two months. You knew the plan so ‘man up’. I don’t want to hear anymore whining,” I said…as if that would ever happen. John said he’d sleep in the car the entire ride up…to conserve his strength…and then rest when we got there. Good plan. I’m not worried. He does whine, but he’ll handle it just fine. If not…there’s plenty of cliffs from which to push him.
Bike duration: One hour and 5 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 125.
Calories burned during workout: 900.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
I should never listen in church...
Sunday, September 12, 2010
I was sitting in church Sunday morning and actually listening to Father Joe instead of taking my pulse. He had said something about ‘Koran burning’ that got my attention. I’d seen - but not read - the stories about a Pastor in Gainesville, Florida who was planning a burning of the Koran, the sacred book of the Islamic faith, on the anniversary of the terrorists attack. I suppose I’d ignored the stories because I tend not to read things I suspect are ‘hate’ related. I figured burning sacred books could only be such an act. Father Joe related how the Pastor, after praying for guidance on his controversial plan, had decided to call off the burning.
I went home after church and did a little research on Pastor Terry Jones and his church and flock of 50 people. From what I read in the AP story, it seems that Terry was concerned about the U.S.’s lack of an appropriate response to radical Islam and wanted to send his own message. Some time earlier, he had posted on a sign outside the church that ‘Islam is the devil’ so it didn’t take me long to figure out his leanings.
I suspect that Terry has spent relatively little time studying the Koran and the true meanings of all that it teaches. Frankly, I’m guessing he’s spent little time with the Bible and the gospels of the New Testament and the teachings of Jesus Christ either, though he’s supposed to be a ‘Christian’ pastor. If he had and understood what they said, I suspect he would become a little more tolerant and much less judgmental. I would hope that he, his 50 followers and all who espouse any message of hate in the name of any God – are terribly misinformed. I mean…I’m sorry to get political and religious on you here, but I have trouble with anyone who thinks their God is telling them its okay to hate and to kill. It just doesn’t fit with the message I’m getting from mine and I don’t believe for a second it ever was the message the vast majority of people of the Islamic faith are getting from theirs.
So Terry…I’m glad you and your folks decided not to have a book burning and hope that you’ll find something more constructive to do with your time and efforts. At our church, we’re sponsoring a gathering of Christians and Muslims to share with each other what we think our Holy Scriptures are really trying to say…and I assure you, it’s got nothing to do with hating each other.
Alright…maybe I should stick to taking my pulse. Anyway, I had some time for a decent ride and so I headed out on my Rogers Road course. I particularly like this one because it has four different hills that are at least a little challenging. The wind was blowing hard again and I’d be facing it on the last part of the ride, which makes for a better workout…and is what I’m all about right now. I’ve only got a few more days until John and I head for the Adirondacks and I want to make the most of them. The hip is pain-free right now and I’m getting very encouraged. I’ve only ridden the course a few times, but I put the clock on to see how fast I could do it.
I flew through the first half with the wind at my back and climbed aggressively up the first two hills. Once I turned into the wind though, I slowed noticeably…though I stayed with the effort. Climbing Rogers is a decent test. It’s quite steep for a quarter mile, but once past that begins a steady climb over about 2 miles to the Wilson Mills. I find that I’m in oxygen debt for the entire ten or so minutes it takes me to reach the top. After that though – it’s reward time on the best downhill I’ve been on in these parts…west on Wilson Mills down to River Road. I’ve hit speeds over 50 mph on this decline…which is quite the rush and makes the climb worth every difficult stroke.
I did the last climb through the Metroparks back up to SOM before heading for home. The final miles were against a wind blowing a constant 20 mph, which had my thighs screaming. I pulled into the driveway a little over 90 minutes after I’d started and almost 5 minutes faster than I’d ridden the course before. It was a good sign…and I need those.
Bike duration: One hour and 35 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 125.
Calories burned during workout: 1,350.
.
I was sitting in church Sunday morning and actually listening to Father Joe instead of taking my pulse. He had said something about ‘Koran burning’ that got my attention. I’d seen - but not read - the stories about a Pastor in Gainesville, Florida who was planning a burning of the Koran, the sacred book of the Islamic faith, on the anniversary of the terrorists attack. I suppose I’d ignored the stories because I tend not to read things I suspect are ‘hate’ related. I figured burning sacred books could only be such an act. Father Joe related how the Pastor, after praying for guidance on his controversial plan, had decided to call off the burning.
I went home after church and did a little research on Pastor Terry Jones and his church and flock of 50 people. From what I read in the AP story, it seems that Terry was concerned about the U.S.’s lack of an appropriate response to radical Islam and wanted to send his own message. Some time earlier, he had posted on a sign outside the church that ‘Islam is the devil’ so it didn’t take me long to figure out his leanings.
I suspect that Terry has spent relatively little time studying the Koran and the true meanings of all that it teaches. Frankly, I’m guessing he’s spent little time with the Bible and the gospels of the New Testament and the teachings of Jesus Christ either, though he’s supposed to be a ‘Christian’ pastor. If he had and understood what they said, I suspect he would become a little more tolerant and much less judgmental. I would hope that he, his 50 followers and all who espouse any message of hate in the name of any God – are terribly misinformed. I mean…I’m sorry to get political and religious on you here, but I have trouble with anyone who thinks their God is telling them its okay to hate and to kill. It just doesn’t fit with the message I’m getting from mine and I don’t believe for a second it ever was the message the vast majority of people of the Islamic faith are getting from theirs.
So Terry…I’m glad you and your folks decided not to have a book burning and hope that you’ll find something more constructive to do with your time and efforts. At our church, we’re sponsoring a gathering of Christians and Muslims to share with each other what we think our Holy Scriptures are really trying to say…and I assure you, it’s got nothing to do with hating each other.
Alright…maybe I should stick to taking my pulse. Anyway, I had some time for a decent ride and so I headed out on my Rogers Road course. I particularly like this one because it has four different hills that are at least a little challenging. The wind was blowing hard again and I’d be facing it on the last part of the ride, which makes for a better workout…and is what I’m all about right now. I’ve only got a few more days until John and I head for the Adirondacks and I want to make the most of them. The hip is pain-free right now and I’m getting very encouraged. I’ve only ridden the course a few times, but I put the clock on to see how fast I could do it.
I flew through the first half with the wind at my back and climbed aggressively up the first two hills. Once I turned into the wind though, I slowed noticeably…though I stayed with the effort. Climbing Rogers is a decent test. It’s quite steep for a quarter mile, but once past that begins a steady climb over about 2 miles to the Wilson Mills. I find that I’m in oxygen debt for the entire ten or so minutes it takes me to reach the top. After that though – it’s reward time on the best downhill I’ve been on in these parts…west on Wilson Mills down to River Road. I’ve hit speeds over 50 mph on this decline…which is quite the rush and makes the climb worth every difficult stroke.
I did the last climb through the Metroparks back up to SOM before heading for home. The final miles were against a wind blowing a constant 20 mph, which had my thighs screaming. I pulled into the driveway a little over 90 minutes after I’d started and almost 5 minutes faster than I’d ridden the course before. It was a good sign…and I need those.
Bike duration: One hour and 35 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 125.
Calories burned during workout: 1,350.
.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
"And where were you?"
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Will any American who was older than let’s say 8, ever forget where they were when they heard the news nine years ago? I doubt it. For those of you who haven’t heard, I was in the Adirondacks and didn’t know that anything had happened until I pulled my kayak up to the tiny town of Wanakana for a trip to their general store. I grabbed some groceries and headed for the check-out counter. The clerk took a good look at my growth of facial hair and disheveled overall appearance and concluded I’d been in the woods for awhile.
“You don’t know what happened – do you?” she asked. When I confessed I didn’t, she filled me in. I must admit that I was happy to have missed the initial shock, fear and worrying that had been a part of almost all America’s past 24 hours. I would continue to miss it since I headed back into the woods for another 5 days after calling home and checking with Holly.
John, Henry and I had plenty of time over the next five days to consider the life-altering event and its deeper meaning and impact. Of course, none of us could have envisioned the impact we continue to feel today. I can’t go into the Adirondacks, particularly at this time of the year and not again give consideration to this event and how it has affected us all.
John arrived at the house for our ride about 3:45 p.m. dressed in his ‘Lance Armstrong’ yellow jersey and anxious to get on the road. “We’ve got to get moving…it’s going to rain any second,” he whined. We had just spoken about an hour ago and I’d told him how we needed to pick Jack up from Ultimate Frisbee at 4 p.m. When I reminded him of this, expressing concern over his diminishing ability to remember things for more than 5 minutes, he acknowledged that I was right, but chattered on about the threatening gray clouds overhead.
“So…we’ll get wet if it rains. Big deal. Man up before I yank your ‘man card’ again,” I said. This quieted him immediately. He’d been struggling for years to get his ‘man card’ and didn’t want to lose it so quickly. I’m not so sure he’ll have it at the conclusion of our trip, but I’ll try to keep an open mind.
We didn’t have much time and went out hard…for us, anyway. I predicted that it would remain cloudy, but the raindrops would stay away. I was wrong and John whined loudly when they started to fall. I reminded him that there was little his whining would do to change things and he reminded me that I’d been wrong on my prediction…which brought him great pleasure.
We averaged about 18 mph for the workout, which is a little faster than I usually ride making it a tough effort even if it was just an hour. John is concerned that he hasn’t done enough training for the climbing we’re about to do, but he’s got ten years and 30 fewer pounds on me. He’ll be fine. And if he isn’t…he’ll die. I don’t suffer fools…or slackers…in the mountains.
Bike duration: 60 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 125.
Calories burned during workout: 900.
Will any American who was older than let’s say 8, ever forget where they were when they heard the news nine years ago? I doubt it. For those of you who haven’t heard, I was in the Adirondacks and didn’t know that anything had happened until I pulled my kayak up to the tiny town of Wanakana for a trip to their general store. I grabbed some groceries and headed for the check-out counter. The clerk took a good look at my growth of facial hair and disheveled overall appearance and concluded I’d been in the woods for awhile.
“You don’t know what happened – do you?” she asked. When I confessed I didn’t, she filled me in. I must admit that I was happy to have missed the initial shock, fear and worrying that had been a part of almost all America’s past 24 hours. I would continue to miss it since I headed back into the woods for another 5 days after calling home and checking with Holly.
John, Henry and I had plenty of time over the next five days to consider the life-altering event and its deeper meaning and impact. Of course, none of us could have envisioned the impact we continue to feel today. I can’t go into the Adirondacks, particularly at this time of the year and not again give consideration to this event and how it has affected us all.
John arrived at the house for our ride about 3:45 p.m. dressed in his ‘Lance Armstrong’ yellow jersey and anxious to get on the road. “We’ve got to get moving…it’s going to rain any second,” he whined. We had just spoken about an hour ago and I’d told him how we needed to pick Jack up from Ultimate Frisbee at 4 p.m. When I reminded him of this, expressing concern over his diminishing ability to remember things for more than 5 minutes, he acknowledged that I was right, but chattered on about the threatening gray clouds overhead.
“So…we’ll get wet if it rains. Big deal. Man up before I yank your ‘man card’ again,” I said. This quieted him immediately. He’d been struggling for years to get his ‘man card’ and didn’t want to lose it so quickly. I’m not so sure he’ll have it at the conclusion of our trip, but I’ll try to keep an open mind.
We didn’t have much time and went out hard…for us, anyway. I predicted that it would remain cloudy, but the raindrops would stay away. I was wrong and John whined loudly when they started to fall. I reminded him that there was little his whining would do to change things and he reminded me that I’d been wrong on my prediction…which brought him great pleasure.
We averaged about 18 mph for the workout, which is a little faster than I usually ride making it a tough effort even if it was just an hour. John is concerned that he hasn’t done enough training for the climbing we’re about to do, but he’s got ten years and 30 fewer pounds on me. He’ll be fine. And if he isn’t…he’ll die. I don’t suffer fools…or slackers…in the mountains.
Bike duration: 60 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 125.
Calories burned during workout: 900.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Back to the bleachers...
Friday, September 10, 2010
“Exercise may protect the brain, Clinic study finds” was the headline of a story published in yesterday’s Plain Dealer. The article referred to a study that specifically looked at people who carry the gene that confers a high risk of Alzheimer’s and what effect regular aerobic exercise had on them. There was a clear increased brain function in the part of the brain controlling memory, which is good news for this population. Though it was a small study, it is one of the good reasons to exercise – quality of life – which is all I preach in regards to the potential benefits. The article also stated that “people who are physically active have better cognitive performance” which is another way of saying that if I didn’t exercise as much as I do, I’d likely be functioning just a tad higher than your basic, garden variety tomato…so I’ve got that going for me.
Two consecutive days of riding had left me with aching shoulders and neck muscles. If I was a barn animal, they’d shoot me. Anyway, I knew I’d be riding with John on Saturday and again on my own on Sunday, so I decided to try something different and headed for the Mayfield bleachers again.
This time when I arrived, the Stadium was blanketed in complete darkness…the team was playing an away game. Since I’d been roundly criticized by my doc for doing hill repeats…I’d actually run up those hills…I figured to do the bleachers without running. Instead, I took them two steps at a time, but walking…quickly. I did a set of 10 then came down and walked a lap around the track. It felt so good that I wanted desperately to run, but knew nothing good could come of that. I kept walking.
I climbed back into the bleachers and did another 20 repeats and by the twentieth, my thighs were getting fatigued and fat from the effort. I returned to the track and another walking lap before heading into the bleachers for a final set of 11 repeats.
I concluded the workout with another quick walking lap around the track and headed for the car. It had taken 45 minutes and I’d managed a good sweat, but more importantly – no hip pain. After next week’s trip to the mountains, I’m going to have to see the doc again and find out how long I have to wait for a stress fracture to clear up. I hate that I’m missing the best time of the year for running when its finally cooled off enough to be bearable even when running mid-day. I should man up and quick whining. I should…but I won’t.
Bleacher duration: 45 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 120.
Calories burned during workout: 675.
“Exercise may protect the brain, Clinic study finds” was the headline of a story published in yesterday’s Plain Dealer. The article referred to a study that specifically looked at people who carry the gene that confers a high risk of Alzheimer’s and what effect regular aerobic exercise had on them. There was a clear increased brain function in the part of the brain controlling memory, which is good news for this population. Though it was a small study, it is one of the good reasons to exercise – quality of life – which is all I preach in regards to the potential benefits. The article also stated that “people who are physically active have better cognitive performance” which is another way of saying that if I didn’t exercise as much as I do, I’d likely be functioning just a tad higher than your basic, garden variety tomato…so I’ve got that going for me.
Two consecutive days of riding had left me with aching shoulders and neck muscles. If I was a barn animal, they’d shoot me. Anyway, I knew I’d be riding with John on Saturday and again on my own on Sunday, so I decided to try something different and headed for the Mayfield bleachers again.
This time when I arrived, the Stadium was blanketed in complete darkness…the team was playing an away game. Since I’d been roundly criticized by my doc for doing hill repeats…I’d actually run up those hills…I figured to do the bleachers without running. Instead, I took them two steps at a time, but walking…quickly. I did a set of 10 then came down and walked a lap around the track. It felt so good that I wanted desperately to run, but knew nothing good could come of that. I kept walking.
I climbed back into the bleachers and did another 20 repeats and by the twentieth, my thighs were getting fatigued and fat from the effort. I returned to the track and another walking lap before heading into the bleachers for a final set of 11 repeats.
I concluded the workout with another quick walking lap around the track and headed for the car. It had taken 45 minutes and I’d managed a good sweat, but more importantly – no hip pain. After next week’s trip to the mountains, I’m going to have to see the doc again and find out how long I have to wait for a stress fracture to clear up. I hate that I’m missing the best time of the year for running when its finally cooled off enough to be bearable even when running mid-day. I should man up and quick whining. I should…but I won’t.
Bleacher duration: 45 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 120.
Calories burned during workout: 675.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Kim is a beast...
Thursday, September 09, 2010
I get such a rush from watching kids race that I’ve had a hand in coaching. I had that chance again last night as Kim Lorentz blazed around Firestone Metro Park – the University of Akron’s home course, to an Invitational victory. She went out hard and dared the competition to stay with her. This would be no strategically-determined sprint for the finish, but instead a gut-busting, who can run hard the longest kind of race. All about strength and pain and who can stand it the longest. It has been her style…she’s hard as nails and after only 3 minutes into the 5K race, I could see the strain on the faces of the three girls trying to stick with her. She’d open up about three yards on them and judging by their body language, I knew it would be all Kim from there to the finish.
She continued to widen that gap and cruised home with a 20-second victory. She missed her course record by one second, but was all smiles after the race. She’s had a rash of injuries throughout her college career, but has persevered…inspiring me to overcome my recent bouts with maladies. I think she will go far this year and expect to see her in the NCAA cross finals this fall.
I seem to be getting myself back in the groove. I knew it would be tricky working out with the time constraints created by going to her race and having to get home for Savannah’s farewell dinner. I had packed the bike in the car and managed to squeeze in a ride prior to Kim’s race on the roads south and east of Firestone. I didn’t know where I was going and found myself on roads crowded with traffic, but was determined to get in at least a one-hour ride. I accomplished this goal – logging 75 minutes. There was a strong head wind on the return of this out and back and I made the most of it pushing hard the entire time. The last trip to the Adirondacks is a little over a week away, so I want to put the finishing touches on my conditioning. Riding is all I have so I have to really push it hard.
It was another heavy, family dinner though. Baked spaghetti (cheese, bacon and other amazingly good-tasting, fatty stuff) followed by a dessert of apple pie and ice cream. It had been almost 48 hours since my last taste of ice cream and I was suffering from acute withdrawal. I made up for it quickly. I did manage another late-night walk in the neighborhood with Holly, though not enough to offset that meal. Tomorrow…long ride for sure.
Bike duration: One hour and 15 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 125.
Calories burned during workout: 1,125.
I get such a rush from watching kids race that I’ve had a hand in coaching. I had that chance again last night as Kim Lorentz blazed around Firestone Metro Park – the University of Akron’s home course, to an Invitational victory. She went out hard and dared the competition to stay with her. This would be no strategically-determined sprint for the finish, but instead a gut-busting, who can run hard the longest kind of race. All about strength and pain and who can stand it the longest. It has been her style…she’s hard as nails and after only 3 minutes into the 5K race, I could see the strain on the faces of the three girls trying to stick with her. She’d open up about three yards on them and judging by their body language, I knew it would be all Kim from there to the finish.
She continued to widen that gap and cruised home with a 20-second victory. She missed her course record by one second, but was all smiles after the race. She’s had a rash of injuries throughout her college career, but has persevered…inspiring me to overcome my recent bouts with maladies. I think she will go far this year and expect to see her in the NCAA cross finals this fall.
I seem to be getting myself back in the groove. I knew it would be tricky working out with the time constraints created by going to her race and having to get home for Savannah’s farewell dinner. I had packed the bike in the car and managed to squeeze in a ride prior to Kim’s race on the roads south and east of Firestone. I didn’t know where I was going and found myself on roads crowded with traffic, but was determined to get in at least a one-hour ride. I accomplished this goal – logging 75 minutes. There was a strong head wind on the return of this out and back and I made the most of it pushing hard the entire time. The last trip to the Adirondacks is a little over a week away, so I want to put the finishing touches on my conditioning. Riding is all I have so I have to really push it hard.
It was another heavy, family dinner though. Baked spaghetti (cheese, bacon and other amazingly good-tasting, fatty stuff) followed by a dessert of apple pie and ice cream. It had been almost 48 hours since my last taste of ice cream and I was suffering from acute withdrawal. I made up for it quickly. I did manage another late-night walk in the neighborhood with Holly, though not enough to offset that meal. Tomorrow…long ride for sure.
Bike duration: One hour and 15 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 125.
Calories burned during workout: 1,125.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
A 'fat thigh' ride.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
I woke up thinking I was glad I hadn’t gone to the emergency room. There was no blood in the bed and although the bandage was kind of soaked in red stuff, it seemed to have stopped.
I was driving to work and looking at the thing when I decided it was time to pull off the bandage and check on the healing process. I mean…everyone knows wounds need fresh air to heal properly…at least that’s what I seem to recall. I peeled back the masking tape we’d used and started to detach the gauze…which was stuck. One good yank and…
“Oh shit…it’s still bleeding,” I said to no one in particular. I suppose I should have left it alone…or at least waited for a time when, oh I don’t know, I wasn’t driving? I tried to rewrap my finger with the crusted gauze lying on the seat and retape with the masking tape on the floor. It wasn’t going too well, but I managed to staunch the flow long enough to complete the drive and get into the office and grab a first aid kit.
The rest of the day was uneventful since I elected to leave the finger wrapped. I headed for the park after work to do my ride. I’d shoved the bike into the back seat of the Honda…no small feat…for a quick, hard ride. We were taking Savannah out for dinner since she’d be leaving for Ohio State in two days and would be having…pizza and milkshakes! I HAD to get in a hard ride with the way I was charging through calories lately. I figured I had about 90 minutes tops and planned to make the most of it.
I started from the parking lot at the bottom of Wilson Mills just before it intersects with River Road. My plan was to climb Rogers and head south on County Line for Pekin. There was a strong tail wind for the first half and I rode aggressively, staying in the large chain ring and getting out of the saddle to work the hills harder. In short order, I had fat thighs and was sweating profusely. I get what I call ‘fat thighs’ whenever I push the harder gears with less revolutions. Most good riders ‘spin’ at around 100-110 revolutions per minute. I tend to ride between 80-90 rpm’s, pushing harder gears to maintain the same pace. This is actually less efficient and in my triathloning days, would leave me with tired legs that rebelled at the idea of running. Old habits die hard, though, regardless of their stupidity. I kept pushing big gears none the less and my thighs, packed with blood and lactic acid, felt like they’d swollen to twice normal size.
I actually felt good though, and was moving at 20 mph, something I hadn’t been doing for some time (measured in years). When I hit the turn around, I worked to maintain the pace with the wind in my face and almost managed a negative split – only 30 second slower coming back than going out. I hit the car in an hour and 27 minutes pleased with the intensity of the workout and feeling like…yeah…maybe a little ice cream tonight.
We hit California Pizza Kitchen because Petti’s was closed. They don’t offer milkshakes…barbarians…and so I went with Diet Pepsi. Later that night, Holly and I went for a 25-minute walk, so it turned out to be a pretty good workout day.
Bike duration: One hour and 27 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 125.
Calories burned during workout: 1,300.
I woke up thinking I was glad I hadn’t gone to the emergency room. There was no blood in the bed and although the bandage was kind of soaked in red stuff, it seemed to have stopped.
I was driving to work and looking at the thing when I decided it was time to pull off the bandage and check on the healing process. I mean…everyone knows wounds need fresh air to heal properly…at least that’s what I seem to recall. I peeled back the masking tape we’d used and started to detach the gauze…which was stuck. One good yank and…
“Oh shit…it’s still bleeding,” I said to no one in particular. I suppose I should have left it alone…or at least waited for a time when, oh I don’t know, I wasn’t driving? I tried to rewrap my finger with the crusted gauze lying on the seat and retape with the masking tape on the floor. It wasn’t going too well, but I managed to staunch the flow long enough to complete the drive and get into the office and grab a first aid kit.
The rest of the day was uneventful since I elected to leave the finger wrapped. I headed for the park after work to do my ride. I’d shoved the bike into the back seat of the Honda…no small feat…for a quick, hard ride. We were taking Savannah out for dinner since she’d be leaving for Ohio State in two days and would be having…pizza and milkshakes! I HAD to get in a hard ride with the way I was charging through calories lately. I figured I had about 90 minutes tops and planned to make the most of it.
I started from the parking lot at the bottom of Wilson Mills just before it intersects with River Road. My plan was to climb Rogers and head south on County Line for Pekin. There was a strong tail wind for the first half and I rode aggressively, staying in the large chain ring and getting out of the saddle to work the hills harder. In short order, I had fat thighs and was sweating profusely. I get what I call ‘fat thighs’ whenever I push the harder gears with less revolutions. Most good riders ‘spin’ at around 100-110 revolutions per minute. I tend to ride between 80-90 rpm’s, pushing harder gears to maintain the same pace. This is actually less efficient and in my triathloning days, would leave me with tired legs that rebelled at the idea of running. Old habits die hard, though, regardless of their stupidity. I kept pushing big gears none the less and my thighs, packed with blood and lactic acid, felt like they’d swollen to twice normal size.
I actually felt good though, and was moving at 20 mph, something I hadn’t been doing for some time (measured in years). When I hit the turn around, I worked to maintain the pace with the wind in my face and almost managed a negative split – only 30 second slower coming back than going out. I hit the car in an hour and 27 minutes pleased with the intensity of the workout and feeling like…yeah…maybe a little ice cream tonight.
We hit California Pizza Kitchen because Petti’s was closed. They don’t offer milkshakes…barbarians…and so I went with Diet Pepsi. Later that night, Holly and I went for a 25-minute walk, so it turned out to be a pretty good workout day.
Bike duration: One hour and 27 minutes.
Training Heart Rate: 125.
Calories burned during workout: 1,300.
"There's an ice cream social at Millridge"
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Our good friend Ash and her three-year old son, Ollie, were moving in as Savannah was moving out, though there would be a three-day overlap. Ash was moving back to town from Columbus and needed a place to stay temporarily. I needed a three-year old to chase around to augment my training program…so it was a perfect fit. I figured to pretend he was one of my kids and that would make me seem younger.
I got home thinking I’d do a short ride before they arrived, but Holly had other ideas. “You here to move the dresser and filing cabinet?”
Momma Rolf had drowned her stupid kids, so I replied “that’s exactly why I’m here.”
I rearranged the two pieces and moved a couple of other things and was thinking of sitting down for three minutes when a truck backed into my driveway. It was Ash and there were more things to move…but hey, this was going to be my workout so I went to it. As I was unpacking, I couldn’t help but notice the steady stream of people passing the house on the sidewalk and heading for Millridge Elementary School. I stopped a neighbor to find out what was happening.
“Ice cream social,” she told me in the same sentence she mentioned the spinning class she’d done that morning at her employer’s workout facility, Progressive Insurance.
“Good plan. Workout and ice cream. I’m on much the same one myself right now…except that I’m skipping the ‘workout’ part,” I said.
The school’s been having one of these at the beginning of each school year for as long as I’ve lived on the street…which is 13 years or so. I used to get to go because I had kids in elementary school, but now…then it hit me. I went inside and suggested to Ash that I take Ollie and head for the school. “They’ll think he’s in kindergarten and that I’m his granddad and we’ll get free ice cream.” Holly said it was dinner time and I’d have to try my ploy later. It would be gone by then, but she wasn’t listening to reason. No matter…we still had ice cream in the freezer from Saturday.
Dinner was shrimp pesto, fresh peaches, and a broccoli salad. I ate too much…leaving no room for ice cream, but figured I’d go up to the school for a set of bleachers and have some after that. I own clean-up after dinner and was doing my duty when disaster struck. I was putting the vegamatic thing on the lazy susan, but when I reached blindly into the cabinet, I felt something sharp pierce the third finger of my right hand. It was the blade from the damned thing, and it sliced me like a rip melon. I pulled my hand out with blood spurting all over the kitchen. I reached for the paper towels and slapped them on while calling for Holly.
”Could you come down here and bring some bandages, please,” I called. Ash heard me and figured the ‘bandages’ thing was a bad sign. She took one look at my hand, turned and headed the other way. I’m thinking ‘no’ for the triage job.
Holly arrived, took a look and said “you need stitches.”
Well…who didn’t know that. And who wasn’t about to go to the emergency room for a three-hour wait, a $500 bill and four stitches? “I don’t need no stinking stitches. Let’s just wrap the crap out of it with gauze. If it’s still bleeding in the morning or I’m dead…we’ll know it was a bad decision,” I said. I tough as nails…and dumber than a box of rocks.
So there went my evening workout. I passed on the ice cream, though. It should still be there tomorrow.
Our good friend Ash and her three-year old son, Ollie, were moving in as Savannah was moving out, though there would be a three-day overlap. Ash was moving back to town from Columbus and needed a place to stay temporarily. I needed a three-year old to chase around to augment my training program…so it was a perfect fit. I figured to pretend he was one of my kids and that would make me seem younger.
I got home thinking I’d do a short ride before they arrived, but Holly had other ideas. “You here to move the dresser and filing cabinet?”
Momma Rolf had drowned her stupid kids, so I replied “that’s exactly why I’m here.”
I rearranged the two pieces and moved a couple of other things and was thinking of sitting down for three minutes when a truck backed into my driveway. It was Ash and there were more things to move…but hey, this was going to be my workout so I went to it. As I was unpacking, I couldn’t help but notice the steady stream of people passing the house on the sidewalk and heading for Millridge Elementary School. I stopped a neighbor to find out what was happening.
“Ice cream social,” she told me in the same sentence she mentioned the spinning class she’d done that morning at her employer’s workout facility, Progressive Insurance.
“Good plan. Workout and ice cream. I’m on much the same one myself right now…except that I’m skipping the ‘workout’ part,” I said.
The school’s been having one of these at the beginning of each school year for as long as I’ve lived on the street…which is 13 years or so. I used to get to go because I had kids in elementary school, but now…then it hit me. I went inside and suggested to Ash that I take Ollie and head for the school. “They’ll think he’s in kindergarten and that I’m his granddad and we’ll get free ice cream.” Holly said it was dinner time and I’d have to try my ploy later. It would be gone by then, but she wasn’t listening to reason. No matter…we still had ice cream in the freezer from Saturday.
Dinner was shrimp pesto, fresh peaches, and a broccoli salad. I ate too much…leaving no room for ice cream, but figured I’d go up to the school for a set of bleachers and have some after that. I own clean-up after dinner and was doing my duty when disaster struck. I was putting the vegamatic thing on the lazy susan, but when I reached blindly into the cabinet, I felt something sharp pierce the third finger of my right hand. It was the blade from the damned thing, and it sliced me like a rip melon. I pulled my hand out with blood spurting all over the kitchen. I reached for the paper towels and slapped them on while calling for Holly.
”Could you come down here and bring some bandages, please,” I called. Ash heard me and figured the ‘bandages’ thing was a bad sign. She took one look at my hand, turned and headed the other way. I’m thinking ‘no’ for the triage job.
Holly arrived, took a look and said “you need stitches.”
Well…who didn’t know that. And who wasn’t about to go to the emergency room for a three-hour wait, a $500 bill and four stitches? “I don’t need no stinking stitches. Let’s just wrap the crap out of it with gauze. If it’s still bleeding in the morning or I’m dead…we’ll know it was a bad decision,” I said. I tough as nails…and dumber than a box of rocks.
So there went my evening workout. I passed on the ice cream, though. It should still be there tomorrow.
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