Since a firm sediment of mucous from the schmalz family cold has settled in the base of my sinuses, I have downgraded my athletic goings-on from "training" to "workouts". You see, to a pretend bike racer, workouts are something that minivan drivers and tax advisors do—they are not for serious bike racing types. Bike racers train, they do all sorts of horrific things to themselves in the spirit on becoming faster—not to, as those who workout do—lose their extra 20 pounds or shape up before their high school reunion. These two methodologies seems contradictory, but oddly they have the same outcome. Neither will serve to impress the hot person you went to high school with.

Monday, December 14, 2010

I spent the past weekend living as abnormal un-athletically obsessed person, an aerobic civilian, if you will. My strategy of ignoring my latest cold has not been working as well as I hoped it would. I needed a weekend off. I spent my entire weekend without raising my heart rate or breaking a sweat. I imagine that this is how many people in the US spend their leisure time, as we as a nation are becoming tremendously fat, and I found out something about myself—I am a very antsy person.

I could not find contentedness in sinking myself into my sofa. My two days of inactivity seemed like a punishment—I now know that I would make a terrible Ohioan. So it was with glee that I hit the bike path today to enjoy the usefulness of my own body—and it really is useful. On a bicycle, I probably have a maximum range of perhaps 200 miles or so—that’s only a guess really—I’ve never ridden that far, because unless you have to deliver vital medicines (a la Balto), what’s the point? And I have a top speed (on flat roads) of up to 35-ish miles per hour. These types of numbers do not impress jaded cycling types, the only things that really set our hearts aflutter are gaudy wattage numbers or huge KJ accumulations; but they do serve to impress my neighbors. 

I admit that I get a thrill out of telling my incredulous associates that yes, I did ride my bike today, and no, I do not stop riding in the wintertime. They are of course impressed (or probably more accurately, feel sympathy for my poor wife) by my stalwart dedication to my craft. They then inquire about the weather and my moment of triumph dissipates like Ke$ha’s future career prospects. 

The majestic Saddle River mini-waterfall, shown here in iphone tilt shift format.

Tuesday, December 15, 2010

Today the almighty brought forth the slightest hint of a snow, prompting news crews in the New York Area to take to the streets to report on the "storm" as it happened, and sending me below ground to ride my bike in an endless state of spinning stasis. That is really all there is to report. Roller rides are so uniform and similar that you can interchange the data for one that happened years ago and the only real difference is the amount of time you spent on the rollers. I did a season high of 60 minutes on the rollers today, aided by Louie on Hulu, a show I find tremendously entertaining. I also was able to execute a medicine ball routine, strengthening my core and sending me well upon my way to having a set of abdominal muscles worthy of being drawn onto the HTC jersey front.

Here is my training area in panoramic format, perhaps the greatest abuse of that format ever conceived.

Wednesday, December 16, 2010

Here’s a little recap of my typical mental state during a roller session, it charts the gradual decline of my motivation.

Things start well, I boot up my ancient laptop and go to Comedy Central to watch The Daily Show, I watch the same damn Capitol One commercials I’ve seen for the last three months. I reflexively speak along with the dialogue, Capitol One ones a piece of my soul now. 

After warming up for 5 minutes, I hold out for as long as I can before putting on my head band, sadly this serves as a motivator to me, because it means I can get off my bike. 

Around the 10 minute mark, I can again treat myself to a quick walk over to my bench to turn on my fan. These little walks serve to split up the time on the rollers, I assume this is similar to what prisoners do to pass the time, minus the sexual assault.

After roughly 21 minute and 30 seconds (I know the precise duration of the shows I watch, as I am staring at the screen as they play) The Daily Show ends, this portends dark times. I consider assaulting myself to help pass the time

I get off the bike again to switch my computer to Hulu, I begin to watch the episodes of Louie I have in my queue. Hulu can be spotty sometimes, yet I ride on, wary that I may get caught in a state of suspended buffering.

I make it through one episode of Louie, the next one starts, the buffering icons shows up, I take that as a sign and I abandon my roller ride. I quit, ashamed and so unmotivated I cannot even assault myself. 

Here’s my trophy area, note the singular.

Thursday, December 17, 2010

My cold is abating, and I would like to credit vodka and sleep, that means i can return to riding with some intensity. Today I headed back to interval country, for some 5 minute intervals. It was a bit chilly today and in order to not have my cold reinstated, I donned my athletic scarf, which is really an underrated piece of cycling clothing. I believe that Rapha has a scarf available for purchase, it retails for $80. So if you are someone with a lot of money or someone without a lot of money who has no perspective whatsoever when it comes to spending that money or if you have an association with Rapha that enables you to purchase items at a substantial discount; I would say, by all means, purchase one immediately. But be warned, if you do, there’s a good chance you could be mistaken for a fool.

This is the outdoor workout area that’s located at the tip of interval country, I am tiring of my little tilt shift app, but I used it here anyway. There is no way the individual that uses this equipment is not awesome.