Sunday, November 2, 2008

 

Another drive to a ride this week, and I’m feeling less and less guilty about these now. I can avoid starting an hour earlier than all my compatriots and I can ride more with the team than if I left from Jersey. It’s almost as if I can now pretend to be a New Yorker again. I will now sit at my desk and spread my legs open wide as if I were riding the subway. Today was a mini Merrill Lynch team ride—with just Andy, Marcus and our newest member of the “bull rush”(bull rush—get it? We’re from Merrill Lynch, they have a bull logo…), Mr Jeff King! Yes, the awesome one himself has deigned to join our rag tag band of crime solvers (oh, wait that’s Scooby Doo—or even maybe BJ and the Bear). So the news is now official. It actually seems ridiculous to think that anyone would care whether an amateur racer switched from one local team to another, but there are people out there who think that their movements from one team to another are noteworthy or newsworthy – but they aren’t notable movements. Notable movements have ingested coins or swallowed plastic army men in them.

 

Our quartet formed up and we hit the road after convening at 8 am – that’s 8:05 in the King time zone. Andy and I let Jeff and Marcus plow through the wind together at the front on 9W, enjoying a considerable tow from our taller teammates. Andy had to drop out early, and Jeff, Marcus and I had decided to hit the hills outside Nyack before we’d enjoy any baked goods. We went up some steep hill that goes to Tweed Road (I don’t usually train near Nyack – can you tell?). We took it easy, and I crested the hill before my more gravity based teammates. They were never far from me though – I could tell because Jeff’s bike was squeaking like a wedding night mattress. We then went down Tweed Road, only to turn around and ride back up it again. This was Jeff’s plan; he was explaining how beneficial it was to ride slowly uphill in winter to develop strength, but I know he was just tying to contain my climbing mightiness.

 

After the climb, Marcus left us to ride up towards the Orchards. Jeff and I went to get coffee and muffins – because it’s November for crying out loud. We rolled casually back towards the bridge after Spooning, and I was able to explain to Jeff in explicit detail how I expected my lead outs for the upcoming season to be executed. But I’m not sure if he could hear me above the noise his bike was making.

 

 

Monday, November 3, 2008

 

Today was just a ride to wash Sunday’s ride out of my system. A palate cleanser, if you will. Like a lycra sorbet. I followed a route that I’ve practically ridden to death in the past few years. This route is flirting with both familiarity and contempt, with familiarity winning out today. My midday rides are one of the ways (along with lager and vodka) I retain my grip on my sanity. Without them, I am at my desk and computer for 10-11 hours straight, which is not good for my state of mind, and would result in numerous regrettable posts to various Paul McCartney and Wings fan forums.

 

The fall weather lately has been delightful; the leaves are still clutching the tree branches – weaving together a tapestry of hues more colorful than an exchange student’s sweater vest. Scenery always makes riding easier – I have no idea how riders in ugly places can stand riding their bikes. They must pull their “il Pirata” style bandanas over their eyes to blur their vision to the point where they can fool themselves into believing that Des Moines, when viewed through sweat and absorbent fabric, does indeed resemble Northern France.

 

 

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Today was my uphill 20/10 intervals. I do these on a hill about 9 minutes from my house. It’s nice to have a steep hill so close, but that doesn’t mean that I ride that hill every day – let’s not get out of hand here. I am still a little tired form Sunday’s long-ish ride, but quick intervals make for easy work. The shorter the interval, the less intimidating they are in my mind. I enjoy short events that bear fruit, like the conception of my two daughters. 

 

 

 Thursday November 6, 2008

 

I had “daddy’s day” at school yesterday, so a ride was not in the cards. Today’s wet weather, combined with the fallen foliage, made for optimum conditions for slipping and falling on your ass on a bike. I stayed indoors and did my first long roller ride of the winter training season.

 

I was set to do 25 minutes of a kinda-hard interval—5-10 beats below threshold. I find riding rollers to be mentally daunting these days, I was able to temper the boredom by watching a replay of the Jets/Bills game from Sunday on the NFL network. I dread the day the NFL season ends and I will be football-free in my roller rides. I follow 3 sports closely: cycling, Formula One, and the NFL, specifically, the Miami Dolphins (yes, I am from Iowa, but I made my team decision at the age of 7, influenced mostly by their helmet design, and I have stuck to that decision ever since). I watch every snap of the Dolphin’s season—which was an exercise in misery last season, and I watch every lap of the F1 season. I watch whatever bike races I can find on TV, cycling.tv or in peep show booths. January and February are the low points of the roller TV viewing season, and I do not look forward to trying to slog through roller rides while watching NBA highlights or the dregs of the midday History Channel fare.