Well, life is getting in the way of cycling lately, but I wanted to report some good news. Check out Dave's website at http://www.dieseldavegalloway.com/ to check out another stage of his recovery after being hit by a car while out for a ride.
You go, Dave. You're my hero.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Physical
Do you want to know why I'm not out riding today?
You don't?
Oh. Short post.
Well, what the heck, I'll tell you anyhow, because that's the kind of giving person I am. I give people stuff they don't want.
My Lovely Lovely made me go and get a physical, the results of which demonstrate that riding a bicycle is a good thing, but I got a flu shot and a tetanus booster, one in each arm, and now the idea of supporting any of my weight with those arms on a bike is not one that appeals to me, which is a longwinded way of saying that my arms hurt.
No ride for me just yet.
But, since none of that was very funny and since my physical (don't start singing that Olivia Newton John song or you won't get it out of your head for hours. Ooh. Shouldn't have mentioned it, right? Sorry.) turned out well, here's a nice link for you to click on:
Funny cycling comics here. Check it out.
See you on the road.
You don't?
Oh. Short post.
Well, what the heck, I'll tell you anyhow, because that's the kind of giving person I am. I give people stuff they don't want.
My Lovely Lovely made me go and get a physical, the results of which demonstrate that riding a bicycle is a good thing, but I got a flu shot and a tetanus booster, one in each arm, and now the idea of supporting any of my weight with those arms on a bike is not one that appeals to me, which is a longwinded way of saying that my arms hurt.
No ride for me just yet.
But, since none of that was very funny and since my physical (don't start singing that Olivia Newton John song or you won't get it out of your head for hours. Ooh. Shouldn't have mentioned it, right? Sorry.) turned out well, here's a nice link for you to click on:
Funny cycling comics here. Check it out.
See you on the road.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Slow and Easy
Today was supposed to be a day off, which would mean a long ride, but I had a sick sixth grader to deal with. She had what I think of as Student’s Disease. The progression of symptoms runs something like this:
Sunday 8:00 pm: The child does not feel well. The symptoms are vague and could indicate not enough sleep in the last 48 hours, an allergy, a cold, influenza (choose the strain you like best), mononucleosis or possible bubonic plague. Announcement of the symptoms is usually followed by, “Mommy, if I feel this bad in the morning, can I stay home?”
Monday 6:30 am: Symptoms are markedly worse.
Monday 12:00 pm: Symptoms are largely gone and the child is exhibiting symptoms of boredom and the beginnings of cabin fever.
Monday 3:30 pm: Child wants to go to a friend’s house and play
Early Monday afternoon, with symptoms progressing as expected, I decided I could sneak in a short ride. With the temperature at 57 degrees and the wind blowing 10 mph, I decided tights and long sleeves were called for. This was one of those days when I was properly dressed as long as I was in motion and too hot whenever I had to stop.
The cars were generally not bad, except for that guy behind me who suddenly realized that, if he didn’t pass me right now he would have to wait an additional twenty seconds or so for that oncoming car to go by. (Needless to say, the road was empty all the way to the horizon after the oncoming car.) He slammed the accelerator to the floor and roared past me in a whirl of noise, passing me way to close for my comfort but, presumably, not for his.
I reached an intersection and thought about turning to make a big loop, but the cars kept on coming and kept on coming and kept on coming and I finally decided to just turn around and go back the way I had come, which was when I noticed an odd (and annoying) thing about the wind.
Has this ever happened to you?
The wind is at your back, but it is a gentle zephyr which might be adding a tenth of a mile per hour to your speed, then you turn around, and the windspeed picks up until it resembled a force 3 hurricane which is literally blowing you backwards as you try to pedal into it. I don’t know how the wind knows that I have turned around, but it does.
The ride was quite nice.
As I was spinning, I thought of the book French Revolutions by Tim Moore which I mentioned last week. Well, I’m afraid that I’m going to score a DNF on this one. I have abandoned the book because the author annoyed me. (I am sure that, even if he were aware of this, Mr. Moore would be largely untroubled by it, which is as it should be.)
You see, he dedicates the book to Tom Simpson, about whom he natters on almost endlessly. Now, Tom Simpson’s end was probably tragic. Some people find it heroic as well. Read up on it and make up your own mind.
The author, after talking about how much he admires Simpson, decides that he will dope to make sure he can get up Mont Ventoux. He indicates that, if he’d been able to get EPO (and could be certain of living through the experience of using it) or HGH he would have used that, but, since he can’t, he makes do with more easily obtained and less effective means. I’m not interested in reading about this.
His justification is that every successful pro in the history of cycling except Gino Bartali has been a doper, so, even though he is simply riding (part of) the Tour de France route on his own as an amateur, he might as well dope, too.
Tomorrow, with Student’s Disease well on it’s way to being cured, I’m looking for a nice long ride. I hope it’s as nice as today’s ride was.
See you on the road.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
How Not to Go Crazy
Cyclin’ Missy recently wrote:
It's a long time before spring. It'll be easy to get lazy when I don't want to go outside, let alone drive to the gym. But I'm kind of excited right now to find creative ways to keep myself motivated to exercise over the winter months - spin class, weight lifting, indoor mini-tris...attempts to manufacture variety with the same old gym equipment. Maybe even going outside to ski. I'd love to hear about other people's techniques for keeping yourself moving in the winter.
Now, I don’t have quite the same problem that Missy does, because she lives in a colder place than I do with a lot more snow. (Which makes more sense than if she lived in a warmer place with a lot more snow, I guess.) Where I live, it seldom actually gets too cold to ride (if you’re something of a masochist, that is). You might think it’s too cold to ride, but it almost never really is.
After all, if these people can ride, what do I have to complain about?
The question where I live is not “what do I do to keep myself occupied and in shape indoors?” but “How can I convince myself to go out and ride when the temperature is in the low thirties.” This is not a bad conundrum to have, because I really can ride when the temperature is that low, as long as I have the right clothes, the intestinal fortitude, and some Toasti Toes.
Yes, it’s true, I am, like many cyclists, a fashion plate, obsessing about what I wear.
You see, my problem is, I can’t stand to work out indoors. I don’t care if I’m listening to music, watching a video, listening to an audio book, it doesn’t matter. After about fifteen minutes of indoor riding, I am bored out of my skull.
If you have strategies for not going crazy indoors, head on over to Missy’s site and give them to her, but I’m afraid I don’t have any. I’d rather go out and freeze than try to ride my bike indoors or use gym equipment. I have no objection to being indoors. Give me a book to read and then leave me alone and I’m content, but the indoors was never meant for people who were riding a bike. (And why on earth did I decide in that previous sentence that indoors was plural?)
Yes, I know, that’s easy for me to say because it doesn’t snow much and the temperature doesn’t get much below freezing here most of the time. I’d be singing a different song if I lived in North Dakota or Finland (and then my song would even have to be in Finnish, and then where would we be?) but I’m not.
In fact, just a few days after Missy posted on this topic, the weather around these parts was a balmy 76 degrees. I suppose I should have felt bad for everyone who lives in colder climes, but I have to admit that I was too busy riding to think about it at the time.
So, did Missy ever find any really good tips to keep herself motivated? Don’t let me spoil it for you. Go on over to her site and check it out for yourself.
See you on the road.
Remember: if it's too cold outside, ride harder. That'll warm you up.
See you on the road.
It's a long time before spring. It'll be easy to get lazy when I don't want to go outside, let alone drive to the gym. But I'm kind of excited right now to find creative ways to keep myself motivated to exercise over the winter months - spin class, weight lifting, indoor mini-tris...attempts to manufacture variety with the same old gym equipment. Maybe even going outside to ski. I'd love to hear about other people's techniques for keeping yourself moving in the winter.
Now, I don’t have quite the same problem that Missy does, because she lives in a colder place than I do with a lot more snow. (Which makes more sense than if she lived in a warmer place with a lot more snow, I guess.) Where I live, it seldom actually gets too cold to ride (if you’re something of a masochist, that is). You might think it’s too cold to ride, but it almost never really is.
After all, if these people can ride, what do I have to complain about?
The question where I live is not “what do I do to keep myself occupied and in shape indoors?” but “How can I convince myself to go out and ride when the temperature is in the low thirties.” This is not a bad conundrum to have, because I really can ride when the temperature is that low, as long as I have the right clothes, the intestinal fortitude, and some Toasti Toes.
Yes, it’s true, I am, like many cyclists, a fashion plate, obsessing about what I wear.
You see, my problem is, I can’t stand to work out indoors. I don’t care if I’m listening to music, watching a video, listening to an audio book, it doesn’t matter. After about fifteen minutes of indoor riding, I am bored out of my skull.
If you have strategies for not going crazy indoors, head on over to Missy’s site and give them to her, but I’m afraid I don’t have any. I’d rather go out and freeze than try to ride my bike indoors or use gym equipment. I have no objection to being indoors. Give me a book to read and then leave me alone and I’m content, but the indoors was never meant for people who were riding a bike. (And why on earth did I decide in that previous sentence that indoors was plural?)
Yes, I know, that’s easy for me to say because it doesn’t snow much and the temperature doesn’t get much below freezing here most of the time. I’d be singing a different song if I lived in North Dakota or Finland (and then my song would even have to be in Finnish, and then where would we be?) but I’m not.
In fact, just a few days after Missy posted on this topic, the weather around these parts was a balmy 76 degrees. I suppose I should have felt bad for everyone who lives in colder climes, but I have to admit that I was too busy riding to think about it at the time.
So, did Missy ever find any really good tips to keep herself motivated? Don’t let me spoil it for you. Go on over to her site and check it out for yourself.
See you on the road.
Remember: if it's too cold outside, ride harder. That'll warm you up.
See you on the road.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
We're Not in Kansas Anymore...
Having finally taken the time to measure the setback on my saddle and (hopefully) get it put back where it belongs, I clearly had to go for a quick ride to check things out. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to wash my kits…uh-oh
I am not going to wear dirty shorts. Aside from the fact that it’s simply disgusting, it’s also a great way to get saddle sores, so I dug around and came up with an old pair of shorts that had long been retired for having been worn too thin for comfort. (Not for my comfort, you understand, but for the comfort of anyone who happens to be riding behind me. Well, there wouldn’t be anybody riding behind me today, so that was all right.)
Once again the temperature was nice – a balmy 73 degrees, and once again the wind was not so nice – 18 mph. Hooray. When I clipped in and hit the road, my body said, “Ah….” as I settled into the saddle, because it finally felt right again. That was nice.
Almost the first thing I saw was two hawks riding thermals maybe thirty feet up, wings spread, looking all majestic. (This made a nice contrast with me, clad in lycra, not looking majestic at all.)
I was really feeling kind of lazy today, so I kept my pace gentle. (It was just because I was feeling lazy. That screaming wind had nothing to do with it. Really.) I also decided, on a whim, to do some exploring today (because that sounds a lot better than saying I got lost).
Early on I passed another cyclist going in the opposite direction. I always like seeing other cyclists on the road. It gives me hope for the world.
I turned down a road at random and then down several other roads at random. I have a pretty good sense of direction (possibly the only kind of sense I have), so I always knew which direction home was, but I wasn’t quite sure how to get back there for awhile. I cruised past fields of dead corn, fields of cotton, and leaves of tobacco lying along the side of the road (as if Hansel and Gretel had been smokers and had used tobacco leaves instead of bread crumbs to mark their path) and, as the sound of banjos seemed to hang in the air, it occurred to me that it was a good thing that I had a cell phone with me. Then it occurred to me that I wasn’t sure I could tell whoever I called where I was or how to get there, so maybe the cell phone wasn’t so much use after all.
Only a few seconds after that, an old pickup truck passed me going the opposite direction, and they apparently tossed a firecracker at me. I heard the bang very close to me and smelled the powder. For a split second I thought someone might have fired a gun. Good thing I wasn’t wearing a heart rate monitor.
Did the banjos just get louder?
I wandered down several roads while the prospect got more and more rural, and then, suddenly and unexpectedly, I found myself on a road I was familiar with. I was pretty sure I knew which direction to turn, and that got me to a road I knew very well indeed. Well, I wasn’t lost anymore, and that was a good thing in my book.
That left me with about six miles to get home and a headwind all the way. Well, I wasn’t in a hurry, so that was okay.
I think maybe I finally got that saddle right, and that’s more than okay.
See you on the road.
I am not going to wear dirty shorts. Aside from the fact that it’s simply disgusting, it’s also a great way to get saddle sores, so I dug around and came up with an old pair of shorts that had long been retired for having been worn too thin for comfort. (Not for my comfort, you understand, but for the comfort of anyone who happens to be riding behind me. Well, there wouldn’t be anybody riding behind me today, so that was all right.)
Once again the temperature was nice – a balmy 73 degrees, and once again the wind was not so nice – 18 mph. Hooray. When I clipped in and hit the road, my body said, “Ah….” as I settled into the saddle, because it finally felt right again. That was nice.
Almost the first thing I saw was two hawks riding thermals maybe thirty feet up, wings spread, looking all majestic. (This made a nice contrast with me, clad in lycra, not looking majestic at all.)
I was really feeling kind of lazy today, so I kept my pace gentle. (It was just because I was feeling lazy. That screaming wind had nothing to do with it. Really.) I also decided, on a whim, to do some exploring today (because that sounds a lot better than saying I got lost).
Early on I passed another cyclist going in the opposite direction. I always like seeing other cyclists on the road. It gives me hope for the world.
I turned down a road at random and then down several other roads at random. I have a pretty good sense of direction (possibly the only kind of sense I have), so I always knew which direction home was, but I wasn’t quite sure how to get back there for awhile. I cruised past fields of dead corn, fields of cotton, and leaves of tobacco lying along the side of the road (as if Hansel and Gretel had been smokers and had used tobacco leaves instead of bread crumbs to mark their path) and, as the sound of banjos seemed to hang in the air, it occurred to me that it was a good thing that I had a cell phone with me. Then it occurred to me that I wasn’t sure I could tell whoever I called where I was or how to get there, so maybe the cell phone wasn’t so much use after all.
Only a few seconds after that, an old pickup truck passed me going the opposite direction, and they apparently tossed a firecracker at me. I heard the bang very close to me and smelled the powder. For a split second I thought someone might have fired a gun. Good thing I wasn’t wearing a heart rate monitor.
Did the banjos just get louder?
I wandered down several roads while the prospect got more and more rural, and then, suddenly and unexpectedly, I found myself on a road I was familiar with. I was pretty sure I knew which direction to turn, and that got me to a road I knew very well indeed. Well, I wasn’t lost anymore, and that was a good thing in my book.
That left me with about six miles to get home and a headwind all the way. Well, I wasn’t in a hurry, so that was okay.
I think maybe I finally got that saddle right, and that’s more than okay.
See you on the road.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Fit
You can pay a lot of money to get someone to scientifically fit your bike to your body. I have not done this. But, I hear you ask, you have clearly established yourself as a science nerd of the first water, so why have you not done this? I’m glad you asked. Well, I’m glad I asked for you. The answer is, because I don’t want to. Now that we have that settled…
Some years ago when I moved from the trusty Trek 1000 to a new bike, I suffered what could be called some “discomfort.” I realize that this is a vague word which can be used to describe many things, and I have chosen it for that very reason. When I went from toe clips to clipless pedals, I experienced some “discomfort” that I wouldn’t try to describe in a family blog. When I switched bikes, the “discomfort” was a pain in my…um…legs.
So what do you do in such a situation? You ask somebody who knows. I asked several people, and, when I indicated the area of my legs that was trouble me, Jörg asked, “In the adductors?”
Well, now is the time to admit that I am a biologist with a woeful lack of knowledge of the musculature of the human frame. I am not necessarily proud of this lack, but the fact is that I am a molecular biologist by training (which isn’t anywhere near as glamorous as it sounds), and structures much bigger than a cell don’t really interest me that much, so my response was pretty much just to point.
Then Jörg, who was apparently making a habit that day out of asking questions that I had no idea how to answer, asked, “What’s your setback?”
Huh? (Actually, I don’t think my response was actually as coherent as that.)
Jörg kindly explained what “setback” was (and in case your ignorance is as vast as my own, it’s the horizontal distance between the bottom bracket and the front tip of the saddle) and how to measure it. This involved getting a plumb bob (the fact that I actually knew what that was did make me feel a bit better about myself) and a tape measure and getting to work.
Fortunately, the trust Trek was set up correctly for me (not that I had anything to do with that, you understand) so I could simply measure the setback of that saddle and then use that same measurement on the new bike. Simple. Well, it should be simple. For me, nothing like ever is simple, but I got it done in the end.
I mention all of this now because recently I’ve been back on the Trek while my other bike waited for tires. I got the new tires on and discovered that the saddle was waaaaaaaaaaay out of place. I put it back more or less where I thought it should be and went for a ride.
Apparently, more or less where I thought it should be wasn’t quite right, so I finally broke down today and remeasured the setback on the two bikes. It was wrong. (Yes, I know that a smart man would have written the numbers down the first time he measured the setback, but there you are. I didn’t do it. Draw your own conclusions.) I moved the saddle some more, and, pretty soon, I’ll go on a ride to see how it feels.
Wish me luck.
I’ll need it in the end.
See you on the road.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Warm and Windy
As I took the dogs out this morning, I was troubled by the weather. I was troubled because it was comfortably warm and dead calm. This may sound a little peculiar, but the radio had warned of an approaching cold front this weekend, and, somehow, I felt that good weather was a bad sign. I checked the computer: 76 degrees (yahoo) with winds of 13 to 18 mph (boo!). Oh, well. I got kitted out and hit the road.
If you figure you’ll just find a comfortable pace, get into a rhythm and ride, the wind isn’t such a bad thing. I ended up riding the same route as my last longer ride and once again ended up in the tiny town of Fremont. There is a sign that proudly proclaims Fremont to be “The Daffodil Town.”
The streets of Fremont are, inexplicably, lined with spaces for parallel parking. Inexplicably because there just aren’t that many people there. Even if everybody there own three cars they wouldn’t need that many parking spaces. I like it, though, because it’s like a bike lane. Nice. Of course, since there were pretty much no cars on the streets, I didn’t need a bike lane, but let’s not be picky.
As I was riding through the town, it occurred to me that daffodil’s are seasonal. How, I wondered, is everyone supposed to know that Fremont is the daffodil town? I mean, aside from the big sign that says “Fremont: The Daffodil Town” how is everyone supposed to know that Fremont is the daffodil town?
I got the answer to that one a few minutes later. I was riding at random around the town and turned onto a road because it’s named after the place I live, and then I saw three giant metal daffodil’s each, one five or six feet high. Well, I guess that lets you know where you are, doesn’t it?
I also participated in a tractor race. I saw very few people out on the roads, but at least two of those people were driving tractors. I found myself behind one of them going 18 mph. (I don’t know why tractor’s go 18 mph, but that’s what they do around these parts, anyway). The wind wasn’t being particularly nasty at that point – kind of a head-crosswind, so I decided to go around the tractor and see if I could leave it behind. I like passing a motorized vehicle and leaving it in my dust (turnabout is fair play after all), so I dig in and took off. After several minutes I finally looked behind me, and it was a delight to see how far back the tractor was.
I also discovered a plethora of home-based businesses. Do you need a mason? Some landscaping done? Your dog groomed? Your lawnmower fixed? Your hair done? Some tools sharpened? To buy a dog? I passed houses with signs out front for all of these things and more. (The kennel selling dogs markets poodles and great Danes. This seems like an odd combination to me, even assuming that they mean two different breeds and not some very peculiar hybrid.)
As I was heading back home, with about 15 miles left to go, the sky began to darken precipitously, and the wind picked up. Ahead of me, the sky was blue. Behind me, it was black, adn the darkening clouds seemed to be chasing after me. I got hit with occasional spats of rain. It was actually kind of creepy being chased by the bad weather. I made it back unscatched, if a bit tired.
My saddle still isn't quite right, but it's close. If I ever find out who moved it in the first place, I shall find some suitable way to express my annoyance.
Still, I had a great ride in spite of the weather. Life should always be so good.
See you on the road.
If you figure you’ll just find a comfortable pace, get into a rhythm and ride, the wind isn’t such a bad thing. I ended up riding the same route as my last longer ride and once again ended up in the tiny town of Fremont. There is a sign that proudly proclaims Fremont to be “The Daffodil Town.”
The streets of Fremont are, inexplicably, lined with spaces for parallel parking. Inexplicably because there just aren’t that many people there. Even if everybody there own three cars they wouldn’t need that many parking spaces. I like it, though, because it’s like a bike lane. Nice. Of course, since there were pretty much no cars on the streets, I didn’t need a bike lane, but let’s not be picky.
As I was riding through the town, it occurred to me that daffodil’s are seasonal. How, I wondered, is everyone supposed to know that Fremont is the daffodil town? I mean, aside from the big sign that says “Fremont: The Daffodil Town” how is everyone supposed to know that Fremont is the daffodil town?
I got the answer to that one a few minutes later. I was riding at random around the town and turned onto a road because it’s named after the place I live, and then I saw three giant metal daffodil’s each, one five or six feet high. Well, I guess that lets you know where you are, doesn’t it?
I also participated in a tractor race. I saw very few people out on the roads, but at least two of those people were driving tractors. I found myself behind one of them going 18 mph. (I don’t know why tractor’s go 18 mph, but that’s what they do around these parts, anyway). The wind wasn’t being particularly nasty at that point – kind of a head-crosswind, so I decided to go around the tractor and see if I could leave it behind. I like passing a motorized vehicle and leaving it in my dust (turnabout is fair play after all), so I dig in and took off. After several minutes I finally looked behind me, and it was a delight to see how far back the tractor was.
I also discovered a plethora of home-based businesses. Do you need a mason? Some landscaping done? Your dog groomed? Your lawnmower fixed? Your hair done? Some tools sharpened? To buy a dog? I passed houses with signs out front for all of these things and more. (The kennel selling dogs markets poodles and great Danes. This seems like an odd combination to me, even assuming that they mean two different breeds and not some very peculiar hybrid.)
As I was heading back home, with about 15 miles left to go, the sky began to darken precipitously, and the wind picked up. Ahead of me, the sky was blue. Behind me, it was black, adn the darkening clouds seemed to be chasing after me. I got hit with occasional spats of rain. It was actually kind of creepy being chased by the bad weather. I made it back unscatched, if a bit tired.
My saddle still isn't quite right, but it's close. If I ever find out who moved it in the first place, I shall find some suitable way to express my annoyance.
Still, I had a great ride in spite of the weather. Life should always be so good.
See you on the road.
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