Restoring an old boat...

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Normally, I would have gotten up Sunday morning and put in some time on the trainer before church.  This was far from a normal Sunday morning, though.
I’d been sitting quietly the night before, watching an episode of ‘The West Wing’ when my cell phone began to vibrate.  I looked at the name; one I recognized as a very good friend, but knew immediately it would be something unusual since it was 10:30 p.m.
“John…hey…I’m kinda drunk,” she said, with slurred speech and a slight giggle.  “I’m in Chagrin Falls at…um…Gate Keepers of something.”
“Do you mean ‘Gamekeepers’,” I suggested.
It was and after getting the address from her, I went upstairs and warned Jack we would be having an overnight visitor and he needed to make up the guest room and clean up his bathroom while I drove to pick her up.
I made it to the bar in 30 minutes, but she wasn’t there.  I started worrying that she’d forgotten she’d called me and had tried to drive home.  I finally found her outside near her car. 
“Why are you out here walking around in 4-degree weather?  If you’d fallen in a snowbank, you might have frozen to death,” I said.
She wasn’t completely with it and gave me some story about needing to check her car.  I packed her in my car and tried to question her as to why she was alone in Chagrin Falls when she lived in Lakewood.
“I wasn’t alone.  My friends are in the bar.  We were at this shower thing...” she said.
I knew I might not be getting an accurate accounting, but what kind of friends wouldn’t have been assisting her with getting home?  I was more than happy to help out, but that seemed pretty bizarre.   I drove her to our house and showed her to the guest room and bathroom.  I’d made no arrangements for garments beyond what she was wearing.  It didn’t seem to matter though since she went into the bedroom and never made another sound.
Jack came downstairs to talk about the situation.  “I don’t get why people go to a bar and drink too much when they have to drive,” he said.
“Well…not being a drinker I don’t know for sure, but I suspect they go and have a drink or two…or three…and then realize suddenly they’ve had too much and shouldn’t be driving.  The good news is my friend had the sense to call me and get a ride,” I said.  He nodded agreement and maybe learned a very valuable lesson.
She came downstairs in the morning to my kitchen cleaning.  I offered to make breakfast, but instead we went to ‘Yours Truly’ where I got a story about friends having their husbands with them and not being available to help her get home.  Bad friends, if you ask me.  I ate pancakes with lots of fake syrup instead of riding my bike, though.
I spent some time with my nephews in the early afternoon looking over my late father’s ruined 1968 Chris Craft Sea Skiff.  It’s up on blocks, where it has rested for the past few years, rotting away.  During the kayak portion of ‘Tour Ohio’, Nathan had discussed with me the possibility of purchasing and restoring the boat to its original glory.
“It’s worth almost nothing right now and if it stays out of the water another year, he’ll have to scrap it entirely,” Nathan explained. 
I told him I was very interested in the project and so there we were trudging through a foot of snow to have a look at what was left.  Nathan and Jonathon pointed out the issues where the hull was collapsing due to the improper placement of the jacks holding it up to the rotting transom and wood throughout the interior.  The twin, 327 Chevy engines that powered the boat appeared to be winterized and were something Nathan could rebuild regardless.

“It’ll be expensive and I don’t know anything about working on wood Uncle John, but I’d be willing to tackle it if you would,” Nathan said.  I knew Jonathon felt the same way since he’s spent many hours working on it with his grandfather so many years ago.
I returned home, grabbed Dakota and drove to Mimi’s to catch up with her granddaughter, Mikala, who I’d promised a hike in the park on her next visit.  Though there was a foot of snow on the trails, she was seven and couldn’t have cared less.
“How about we hike into the beaver marsh and walk across the ice to the beaver lodge,” I suggested to her and her mom.
We bundled up, drove to the park and hopped out and into the snow.  It was deep and walking was difficult.  The hike to the marsh took 30 minutes, but it was frozen and we were able to walk out to the lodges.  On the return trip, Mikala asked for a ride so I placed her on my shoulders and carried her for a half mile.  It proved to be an excellent workout, especially since she insisted we climb ‘a mountain’, which meant hiking up the steep slope I normally use for my karaoke workout.
Hike:  90 minutes. 
Training Heart Rate:  70-100 bpm.

Calories burned during workout:  450.

"There's a beeping and a red light flashing..."

Thursday, January 2, 2014
The first two days of 2014 started pretty much the same way…snow removal.  I didn’t have time to shovel out the neighbor’s drive before heading off to work, but had only gotten half way to Warren when I received a call from my son, Jack, who was experiencing vehicular problems. 

“The red warning light came on and it was beeping and flashing so I pulled into a parking lot and turned it off,” he said.

“That was a good move.  Was the heater blowing heat when you turned it off?”

I’d driven the van on Christmas Eve and it had never gotten warm.  Jack was in the vehicle and said it took a while, but would eventually warm up.  It never did.  He said he really didn’t mind, but I tried to dissuade him from ‘being tough’ on these kinds of things.

“If the car isn’t heating up, something’s wrong and you need to let me know,” I told him.  When I checked the fluid levels the following day, I found the radiator was low.  I added water and anti-freeze and it was again blowing hot.

“No – it was still cold,” he said.

I knew what the problem was, but refrained from reminding him how I’d told him to let me know if it happened again.  I drove home, filled up two gallon jugs with water, grabbed the anti-freeze and headed for his last known location.

Once I found him and lifted the hood, I quickly discovered the nature of the beeping and red lights on the dashboard.  The radiator was practically empty.  We refilled it and drove it to Dan’s in Chardon for a weekend repair after which I took him to work in Mentor on snow-covered roads.  By the time I finally arrived back in Highland Heights, it was close to noon and Warren, a two-hour drive in the winter conditions we were experiencing, was looking like a very bad idea.  I aborted that quest and began shoveling again.

It turned out to be a good decision.  Warren was on a winter storm warning with the police advising residents to stay off the roads.  We closed the YMCA at 6 p.m. to allow employees the chance to get home before it got worse.  Few members had ventured to the facility, in any event.  I managed another three hours of snow removal throughout the day and added a 1-hour ride on the trainer, as well.  I received a call from Performance Bike telling me my bike was ready to go.  Good thing – I could see I’d be riding it soon. 

Bike Workout:  60 minutes.  Snow removal:  Three hours 
Training Heart Rate:  120 on the trainer and 80-120 bpm on snow removal.
Calories burned during workout:  850 riding and 1250 on snow removal.

Working out with a snow shovel...

Wednesday, January 1, 2014
When I looked out my picture window to the winter wonderland beyond, I had little doubt what I’d be doing for my first workout of the New Year.  I bundled loosely, but covered all exposed skin because I knew I’d be sweating shortly.  I began pushing snow in my driveway, working the apron first where Highland Heights finest had pushed most of the snow from the street.  Being on the curve of the road automatically means you get more snow in the bottom of your driveway, which is only a problem if you don’t consider snow removal an extreme workout.

Over the next two hours, I removed snow from my double drive and the driveways and sidewalks of my two neighbors.  I was already out and I knew they’d been drinking the night before and would be in no condition to shovel for several days.  It was a great way to add to my workout and I knew I’d get extra Christmas cookies as part of the deal.  I’d be needing them.

Snow continued to fall throughout the day and I used that as my only workout.  I felt somewhat guilty for never climbing on the trainer, but not guilty enough to do it.  I again pounded too many hollow calories as there remained certain Christmas treats in the house.  To make matters worse, Holly offered to make chocolate, peanut-butter pudding and I didn’t discourage her.

Tomorrow will be different.  It’ll be a work day; I’ll have more snow and do a regular workout of some kind.
Snow removal:  Two hours and 30 minutes. 
Training Heart Rate:  80-120 bpm.
Calories burned during workout:  1050.

Last workout of a very good year...

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

The final day of the workout year.  The final day of everyone’s year, as well.  It was a year of high’s for me personally and professionally.  Overcoming injuries and nagging pain, I managed to complete most of Tour Ohio in good form.  My biggest fear – completing the circumnavigation of the state on my bike – went remarkably well as I rode 1,100 miles in 11 days.  I followed it with two days on the Grand River, paddling 45 miles and dunking my phone and camera in the water.  The camera survived; the phone bit the dust.  I succumbed to my hip problems when trying to finish Tour Ohio with an 84-mile hike on the Ohio & Erie Canal Trail with a 35-pound pack attached to my back.  That hip is still bothering me and I’ve yet to visit the doc.  Nothing new there.

Professionally, I found the time during Tour Ohio to interview for the position of CEO for the Trumbull County YMCA.  I was offered the position and have been working there for two months now.  I’m walking the talk and trying to get as many others to join me in the journey as I possibly can.  It’s a task worth doing.

I finished the year much as I started it…with a solid double.  I drove to the North Chagrin Reservation on the way home and suited up for a run.  My plan?  Maybe 20 minutes to be followed by a ride on the trainer when I arrived at home.  The trails were snow-covered, icy, and the temperature was around 1 degrees.  I started with a covering for my ears, but packed my hat in my pocket in case my bare head needed help late in the run.  It did. 

I defied the law and parked in the horse trailer only parking lot since my normal spot was unplowed.  I ran towards Squires Castle, passing the sledders along the way and wishing I’d brought my Flexible Flier.  The top of my head was sweating…and crystallizing…so I put the hat on.  I was moving slowly due to the icy trail conditions, but the effort was there.  On clear trails I would have covered the distance in twenty minutes, but when I returned to the car in 26, decided I’d keep going for an even 30.  As often happens, this became 33 and so I pushed for an even (odd) 35 minutes.  I knew I was pushing my luck; risking re-injuring my bad left calf and finally stopped.  I was perspiring heavily and re-entered the car quickly to keep from turning into a Popsicle. 

Once home, I boarded the trainer, tuned in ‘Bear Attack’ on Netflix (I like to remind myself about the importance of precautionary camping in bear country) and rode for an hour.

I also continued my assault on the Christmas cookies and other goodies strewn throughout our kitchen.  I feel strongly about eating everything sweet so that none of my family members will be tempted.  I exercise more than they and feel I’m only serving a public service.  That, and I want them gone by 2014.  I’ve got a lot to do before the evening’s over.

Run duration:  35 minutes.  Bike duration:  60 minutes.

Training Heart Rate:  140 running and 120 bpm on the bike.

Calories burned during workout:  600 running and 850 on the bike.

Winter workout fun...

Monday, December 30, 2013
Living near Lake Erie in almost any community with the word ‘Heights’ in it can be a good thing if you enjoy lake effect snow.  It just so happens that I live in Highland Heights and I do enjoy shoveling, so it all works out.

Ice sucks, though.

It had been 50 degrees on Saturday and so I’d pulled my bike from its hangers in the garage and tried to go for a ride.  I hadn’t been on it in almost two months and quickly discovered that the inactivity had somehow frozen the gear cable inside the housing.  I was stuck in one gear and that wasn’t going to work.  I drove it to Performance Bikes and received a repair ticket and a promise that it would be ready for a ride the next day.

I returned home and boarded the trainer for a boring, indoor ride. 

Sunday came and went without a call telling me the bike was completed, though since a cold rain was falling, it didn’t really much matter.  I don’t ride in cold rains and tend to shy away from warm ones, as well.  I hopped on the trainer again.

Temperatures dropped overnight, hitting 17 degrees in the Heights, creating a thick coating of ice over anything outside – driveway and cars included.  After shoveling five inches of a fluffy, light snowfall, I went to work trying to chisel the layer of ice covering the Jeep – my preferred form of transportation to Warren in severe winter conditions.  I came to the conclusion that although the chiseling was a splendid workout, I wasn’t making much progress and elected to turn on the engine and try to melt it off with heavy defroster action.  Fifteen minutes later with an assist from the warm air blowing on the insides, I was able to clear the windows.  In all, I’d spent an hour getting the vehicle out of the driveway.

I did not consider this the entire workout, heading for the North Chagrin Reservation later in the day with Dakota for a Survival Workout.  There was 6 inches of powder on the trail, but I knew where my rocks and logs were located and after brushing the snow away and kicking them loose from the earth (they were frozen in place), was able to do some lifting.  I hiked the trail through the snow, itself a workout, with Dakota in tow and loving every minute.  We were alone as most sensible folks were inside, warm and smart.  We crossed Clear Creek where the water was running high and the rocks for crossing were covered in ice.  I jumped and managed to reach the far side without getting too wet, but Dakota walked through and would shortly be trying to chew ice from between her toes.  We shortened the workout trail to accommodate her ice build-up and discomfort.

I returned to the car pleased with the effort.  I find the tranquility of the park with a layer of virgin snow worth any degree of discomfort.  Was it a great workout?  Not really, but some days it is just making the effort and keeping the focus that counts.  It’s how we achieve goals and manage to stay in shape.  There’s also a little bit of pride in being able to handle the elements, which once you’re out, really aren’t so bad.

Survival Workout:  45 minutes.  Snow removal:  60 minutes. 
Training Heart Rate:  100-150 bpm for SW and 80-120 bpm on snow removal.
Calories burned during workout:  450 for SW and 400 on snow removal.

Fifteen years later...hanball!

Monday, December 2, 2013

  This grueling sport was the forerunner to racquetball, played on a court 20’ x 40’ with 20’ ceilings and involves striking a hard, rubber ball the size of a golf ball with hands covered only in thin, leather gloves.  Played well, it requires lots of running, ambidextrous use of both hands, and excellent hand-eye coordination.  Once upon a time I had them all.  Now…about 15 years since my last game…well…I can run kinda okay.
I hadn’t been at the Y too long before it became known that I had once played handball.

“John – quit ducking me.  When are we going to play?” Gil Rieger asked me for the tenth time.  He was so anxious to get me on a court so he could destroy me that he’d actually purchased me handball gloves and a ball.  I was out of excuses.

“Monday,” I said, thinking I could get hit by a car over the weekend and not have to go through with it.  That, or he’d forget since he’s so old.

But he didn’t forget and no one ran me over.

“We still on?” he asked when he stuck his head in my office.

“Can’t wait,” I replied with phony enthusiasm.

We jumped on court one and after a brief warm-up (his was lots longer than mine) and a listing of excuses we each shared about why we thought we’d likely suck, play began.  I got the serve first…suckers always do.  It was the only mistake he would make.

Serving is good and the only time you can score points.  You simply drop the ball at your side and whack it off the front wall so that it bounces back and towards your opponent.  It’s the thing that, like riding a bike, you don’t forget how to do and I do it pretty well.  I piled up six unanswered points before losing the serve.  Now I had to receive a serve.

The trickiest part of the game when you’ve laid off for all kinds of time is to again read the bounce of the ball.  It could strike any of four walls or the ceiling and you need to figure out where it’s going and be there to strike it when it arrives.  I ran around like the proverbial chicken and seemed to always be about one step off where I should have been.  I was sweating like crazy in no time and providing wonderful entertainment for Gil, though, and that was my goal.

We played three games; I actually won one of them and came off the court feeling every muscle and knowing I’d be sore everywhere the next day.  Gil had broken a good sweat, as well, and was anxious to do it again. 

“Next Monday, John?” he asked.  I agreed, of course.  I really do love the game and though I’d bruised the crap out of my hands…and my delicate ego…I’d go at it again.  It HAD been fun.  I had PLAYED for a workout instead of being stuck on a stationary piece of equipment.  Not a bad plan, after all.

Handball match:  60 minutes.

Training Heart Rate:  100-130 bpm.
Calories burned:  600.

Amazing members at the Y...

Friday, November 29, 2013
I’ve only been at the Y for five weeks now, but have already met 20 members with at least 50 years belonging to, and using, this the Trumbull County YMCA.  I mean think about it…that’s 1,000 years of combined history of sharing in the mission of our Y in only 20 people!  Pretty impressive and equally motivating to me to make sure we continue communicating our mission and thereby assuring this Y will be a vibrant, robust operation for coming generations of the Warren community.  I see big things on the horizon.

I went to work Friday with the intention of squeezing in a workout somewhere during the day.  That didn’t happen.  I was scheduled for a visit to my sister’s later that evening where we would be consuming large amounts of hollow calories, or at least I’d be expected to.  I drove home in the dark knowing a stop at the Metropark for a workout wasn’t happening.  Once home, I changed quickly and mounted my bike, stationed on its wind trainer in my office.  I tuned in ‘The West Wing’ on Netflix and began pedaling.

I rode thinking one episode…about 42 minutes…would have to suffice.  I reached that point and slowed my pedaling.  It was in that instant though that I considered I’d have to write a column reporting that I’d only ridden 42 minutes.  Guilt flooded in and I picked up the pace.  What’s another 18 minutes?  I’d get to the party 18 minutes later and have 18 minutes less time to eat immeasurably more hollow calories.  I completed an hour and dismounted, sweating profusely, but pleased with the effort.

Another perfect example of why it helps to make others aware of your workout goals.  Writing this blog has again become my conscience and pushed me to do something – or sometimes more – than I was going to do.  It just works.  I went to the party and because of the efforts I put in recently, decided against certain food items – basically those loaded with sugar calories that I only wanted, but didn’t need.  Yeah…it works.

Bike duration:  60 minutes.

Training Heart Rate:  120 bpm.
Calories burned during workout:  850.