Sunday, December 27, 2009

This morning I awoke to the fact that the furious holiday indulging I have been wallowing in has inflated my weight off the rodent-based scale of shame that I employ. I am now again in the realm of the fat cat. My new fat feline status demands that I get myself back out on the road to curtail my expanding figure. The weather today was forecast to be unseasonably warm, warm enough to warrant an early morning ride without towing along a wood burning stove, so I mounted my bicycle and rode forth into the morning, without the benefit of any combustible warming devices whatsoever.

Inactivity makes me restless, and if I am left without any outlet that allows me to think that I’m accomplishing something, I get ornery. Whenever I have extended sedentary stretches, I find myself feeling melancholy or morose. Fortunately I have discovered that exercise helps me to stave off these feelings of slothful misery. I cannot imagine what it would be for me if I had no physical outlet for my excess exuberance. I imagine I would be crotchety, ill-tempered and cantankerous (or more so), and might even, in my tortured state, turn to any manner of intoxicants, or even, in a full turn of despair, start listening to Rush Limbaugh.

Fortunately my morning’s ride served to buoy my paunchy kitty-sized ennui. The sun was shining and the temperature was unseasonably mild. This served to raise my spirits and inflate my sense of confidence and well being. In fact, I was so overcome by feelings of self-assuredness that when I was faced with the prospect of a familiar portion of my bike path being submerged by the swirling waters of the Saddle River, I decided that I would attempt to ford that raging (well, as much as a river that’s normally 6 inches deep can rage) rivulet. As I descended into what I thought was an unassuming 6 inches of water, I was soon shown the error of my overconfident recklessness. The Saddle River had bulged significantly overnight and I was soon up to my thighs in freezing New Jersey gutter run-off.

I should mention now that one of my goals in life (besides being one of Kevin Federline’s back-up dancers) is to NOT find myself described in a news story as the "local man". You know I mean, when newspapers or local TV news describes someone who’s done something preposterously stupid as the "local man". For instance, the headline "Local Man Uses Explosives to Clear Rain Gutters—Loses Face and Upper Torso" would be an example of what I am talking about, also, "Local Man Taunts Alligator at Side Show, Arm Recoverd but Too Digested to Reattach", or even "Local Man’s Frozen Body Recovered Downstream in Lodi, Dressed in Brightly Colored Leotard".

My lifetime longings aside, I found myself literally up to my man region in the flowing Saddle River. The frigid water took me aback, and I had a decision to make—should I try to make it to the other side, or should I go back? For a moment I considered pushing forward, but thankfully came to what little senses I had and picked up my bike, turned into the current and duck walked back to dry ground. My legs were soaked, and if the temperature has been any colder, I may have been forced to resort to vigorous rubbing for warmth, or amputation, or (heaven forbid) calling my wife. But fortunately the temperatures were mild, and I was able to squish home in my wet shoes, hopefully wiser from the experience. 

Monday, December 28, 2009

Today I was a responsible bike nutjob and got up to do an early morning spin. I found the effects so intoxicating that I ventured out into the real world for my midday ride—as the chances for riding in the out of doors will soon disappear—if the weather prophets are to be believed. But they have issued false proclamations before—yet they remain un-smited. I may have to consult my coach about that. Needless to say, I didn’t attempt any stream fordings, but I did ride through a puddle—baby steps.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Today was a typical Tuesday, I was forced indoors because it’s really cold outside, and my 20/10 numbers reflect an underground wattage level. My underground wattages on 20/10s tend to be around 10% less than my numbers above ground. I am left to conclude that I have no future as either a burrowing rodent or a mole person. I am at a loss as to how to break this disappointing news to my parents.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

After a night of beef loading at a local eatery last night, I’m back up to fat cat territory on the scale of rodent shame. I had resolved last night to get up early and do a hormone stirring double workout today, but the early hour and the cozy warmth of my bed conspired to put off any early morning exertions. I opted instead to take advantage of a clear yet chilly day and ride outdoors. The temperature of 35 degrees was on the edge of my 30 degree training comfort zone floor, so I went for as long as my toes would hold out. I, like Brett Favre, have found that it’s not comfy to mix "cold" and "old"; and I have yet to acclimate myself to the colder temperatures this season—my toes held out for about an hour and thirty minutes. I should break down and get some winter shoes, but I am in a post-holiday spending freeze at the moment. I should be able to justify spending money on winter shoes by the time June rolls around. In the mean time I will be wrapping my toes in my usual layers of booties, and if things ever get dire on the road—I will not hesitate to add hot urine to that mix.

Thursday, December 31, 2009

Today I played the part of the diligently obsessed bike racer and got up and did a light morning spin on the rollers. I have been having a difficult time finding the motivation to get up and ride, as my bed has felt extra snuggley lately, and the winter darkness makes the early hours feel like I’m rising for a midnight rendezvous. Of course, the reason for my rising so early is the exact opposite of a midnight rendezvous—I am waking to elevate my heart rate, breath heavily, and grunt a bit for a duration of 20 minutes—now that I’ve put it that way, perhaps my early rides and my midnight rendezvouses do share some characteristics. But my midnight goings-on never last 20 minutes. They are usually 4 hours long, but I factor in the negotiating and the time it takes to get the projector set up (I have very specific needs).

Also while we’re browsing through the lack of will power section, I have made it back up to 155 pounds again, with only one holiday feeding left. It is the nature of the myopic bike racer to view holiday gatherings as tests of will power, and so far my tests of will power have given me a failing grade. Of course, the winter training season isn’t over yet, so hopefully I can buckle down and bring up my grade point average.

In my later roller session, I found my self able to hold quite a high average wattage (around 240), and on my "kinda hard" 20 minute interval, I was averaging 300 watts. This is about 40 watts over last week’s average. I am left to conclude that, in one week’s time, I have grown 15% percent faster, obviously due to my beef consumption or my "squeezy socks " diligence or maybe someone sprinkled some HGH on my Life cereal. The most likely explanation is that I did not re-calibrate my Power Tap before riding today, and I am getting inflated "ghost data". But that’s no fun! The only way to find out whether I have discovered some new found mightiness is to do another 20 minute interval next Thursday and compare the numbers. Until then I will allow myself to float on a cloud of delusion, because—like I’ve said before, delusion is a bike racer’s best training tool.