I’ve come to the point in my life where I have many little boxes that tell me all sorts of things about myself. I press buttons and slide my fingers around a bit and in return I can earn a living sitting on my backside in front of a computer. I also have other boxes that affect my mood: my ipod makes music that makes me happy, my satellite radio box keeps me entertained while I push buttons on my earning box all day, and my tivo box records programs that I never get around to seeing (programs involving Miley Cyrus or her blond doppelganger Hannah Montana quickly obliterate anything I have recorded). I also have boxes that evaluate and record my sporting efforts. My electronic scale serves to set my baseline emotional state (BES™) for each day. The number it flashes at me each morning tells me if it’s appropriate to pour barbeque sauce down my throat or if I have to show discretion and first pour that barbeque sauce onto something healthy like cottage cheese before I ingest it. As the gatekeeper to my BES™, my scale is a very important box, but it pales in comparison to the most important box in my pretend athletic career—my power meter.

My little yellow Power Tap box records the toil and exertions from my forays into the world of effort and delusion. I harvest my numbers after each ride like a fat farmer plucking radishes from his vegetable garden. I record as much data as I can stand, in the hopes that I can somehow find the rosetta stone that will lead me to Athletic Nirvana (although I’d settle for the Physical Sound Garden). I use math. I greedily horde all of my training numbers and pile them up like bales of hay in my Golden Cheetah barn. It’s a compulsion. I am seeking affirmation through hoarding the records of my pedal strokes, and the pathetic nature of this isn’t lost on me.

In fact, I seek so much of my self-affirmation through riding my bike, I am now going to start tracking my daily Baseline Emotional State (BES™) the best way I know how—through an infographic. I enjoy making infographics, and I think my scatter graph for BES™ is a doozy. Basically there’s four axes, moving from left to right is the "sobriety" axis, and to illustrate the extreme I’ve used celebrities, as they serve to both entertain and teach us in these modern days. Tom Cruise and Gary Busey serve as my "sober" axes, Tom Cruise is know to not be a drinker and (as of this writing) Gary Busey is still on the wagon, but should he have a relapse, he will need to be replaced. On the "non-sober" axes, we have Dudley Moore and Charlie Sheen, their placement there should be self-explanatory. Of course, I do not ride my bike or go through my day in a non-sober fashion (only undergraduates do that), but I think of non-sober as a mindset. The axes from top to bottom go from "happy" to "ornery" with Dudley and Tom representing happy and Charlie and Gary representing ornery.

I will be plotting my feelings as I ride throughout the week and displaying the resulting graphs here, I only started tracing my feeling this week on Wednesday, so there’s only two results.

Friday October 22, 2010

Five sprints today with wattages of: 1061, 995, 1057, 1053 and 1022. It feels good to sprint, as just riding around at a steady pace gets very monotonous. The only real opponent I face at this time of year is monotony—and perhaps gluttony, but I can certainly eat and drink my way through that challenge.

Sunday October 24, 2010

Today I met Chris, Pascal and Sarah at the GWB, and we proceeded to have a lovely ride on a crisp fall morning. While we were riding, I realized that all of us, at one time or another had been teammates. This is the nature of racing in New York City—if you race long enough, eventually you will be teammates with everybody. I look forward to riding with all of you (except Brian Gatens, who couldn’t be bothered to join us on Sunday morning). Sara and Pascal took leave of Chris and I at the muffin depository, and on the way back Chris and I ran into my ex-teammate Thomas. We rode back to the bridge together and attacked and dropped some hairy-legged fellows who were harshing our paceline mellow, all in all, it was a very satisfying day.

Tuesday October 26, 2010

Today I met up with Gary for a ride through the neighborhood and beyond. Today’s weather was an autumnal delight, with bright sun knocking colors out of the leaves still attached to the trees along our route. I must be naturally combative nature, because any time I find myself riding with someone else, I have to find ways to fool myself into thinking I am a superior (when not faster) rider. Gary is undoubtedly faster than I—he won quite a few races last summer—but I still found myself trying to find ways to convince myself that I was indeed the superior (but not faster) rider.

Gary rode down to meet me at my house, so I had home field advantage. I lead him to the Saddle River Bike Path, a route I can create a passable pastel drawing of from memory. And because I know every twist and turn on the route, I was able to be confident where Gary was not. I was noticeably (in my own mind) faster, and that buoyed my confidence. I realize how pathetic it is to be racing someone who isn’t aware of a race occurring—and it’s doubly pathetic to be doing so on a meandering suburban bike path. But the fact is, my BES needed boosting, and if I have to buzz a few joggings strollers in order to do so, then so be it.

Wednesday October 27, 2010

I like to say that I am trained by God, as I alter my training according to the day’s weather. And we all know that in addition to making Republicans and country music, God makes the weather. Therefore whenever God makes the weather turn sour, I take it as a sign to retreat to my basement and ride my bike to nowhere on a set of aluminum drums. Today’s rain sent me below decks to pedal for as long as I could stand, which turned out to be 45 minutes. I am not sure if my coach was pleased by this display, but since I have as of this writing not been struck down or experienced any pestilence—I will go ahead and assume that he was pleased. 

Thursday October 28, 2010

I’ve had a slight cold all week, so I’ve put a hold on any difficult or strenuous riding. Today I pounced upon my bike and took to the roads. I rode on the Saddle River Bike Path, which is entering into it’s most treacherous annual state. Meaning there are wet leaves all across the path, obscuring the bumps and ruts while also making the surface slick and slippery. I proceeded with abandon and I’m pretty sure I impressed the geese and squirrels along the route.