06.29.2005 | 10:25 pm
As of today, I’ve got 44 days — just about 1.5 months — ’til the
Leadville 100. Time for me to assess where I’ve been, where I am, and what I think is possible for me to do.
Where I’ve been
When I started this blog back in May, I weighed 188.8 pounds — the heaviest I’ve ever been. Based on this weight, I was confronting the possibility that for the first time in nine years, I would not be able to complete this race. I decided it was at least theoretically possible for me to do the following by race day:
- Get down to 160 pounds — a 28.8lb loss in ~3 months
- Come up with a training schedule that wouldn’t turn me into a Bad Father and Husband. Ie, a couple of major illnesses and so forth have tweaked my priorities; if I have to choose between being fat and absent, I’ll be fat.
- Start writing on a daily basis, to see whether I still have a sense of humor.
- Finish the Leadville 100 in under 10 hours. This would be an hour improvement over the previous year, though by no means my fastest time ever. (That’s my goal for next year.)
Where I am
Half the time’s gone. Where do I stand?
- I’ve lost half the weight — I’m right around 173. I keep congratulating myself. Then I remind myself that the second half of a weight loss effort is always much more difficult. I’ve only lost the easy weight so far.
- I’ve got a semi-chaotic training program. Basically, I try to go on a longish ride (40 miles) each morning, eventually winding up at work, then ride the shortest route home (10 miles) at the end of the day. In reality, though, I only get out on that longish ride once or twice per week. The twins are potty training right now, and so our nights are usually interrupted a couple of times with bedsheet changes and/or pre-emptive wake-ups to get the girls to use the bathroom. One of the girls is totally done with training and never makes mistakes anymore; the other has a ways to go. So by morning, sometimes I’d rather have another 1.5 hours of sleep than go for a long ride, or sometimes my wife needs me to take care of the kids so she can catch up on her sleep. And that’s fine. No matter what, I’m getting at least 20 miles (shortest possible commute) on the bike each day.
- I’ve written at least 5 blog entries I’m proud of. That’s 5 good things I wouldn’t have otherwise written. Also, this has confirmed to me that I need to get my career back onto a text-based track sometime this year.
What will August 13 be like for me?
Now it’s time to prognosticate.
- Projected starting line weight: I still think it’s possible for me to get to 160. I’m sticking to that.
- Projected finishing time. This is where it gets interesting to me, and probably really boring for everyone else. Here’s what I project, and why.
- I started the race last year weighing 173lbs (which is what I weigh right now, but that’s not relevant).
- I finished the race last year in 10:56.
- I’ve reliably demonstrated that there’s a tight correlation between my weight and my finishing time at this race — which makes sense, since there’s around 12,000 feet of climbing involved. That correlation is: for every 1 non-contributing pound (eg, fat) shed, you can subtract 5 minutes from your finishing time.
- 13 pounds lighter * 5 minutes/lb = 65 minutes faster = 9:49 finishing time.
- I’m going to set a stretch goal of 9:40. See if I can find another nine minutes in there.
And how about next year?
Lose another ten pounds and actually train — as opposed to just ride a bunch — then finish in under 9 hours. Hey, a man can dream, can’t he?
Today’s weight: 172.4. I’ve found that if I eat a grapefruit around 10pm I’m better able to withstand the "grazing craving." I don’t know why grapefruit is working so well for me — maybe it’s because it takes a while to prepare and eat, which helps me avoid the Cascading Snarf effect. And if you don’t know what I mean by a Cascading Snarf effect, you probably don’t have any weight issues in the first place, in which case I hate you.
Bonus Cool Butterfly Effect: Back in the 90’s, I worked at Novell, where I wrote the company newsletter and worked on the website — I was pretty decent at HTML and JavaScript. On a whim, I decided to learn a "serious" language, and picked up Laura Lemay’s book on Java. I discovered that real programming languages aren’t a lot harder to learn than scripting languages and decided to apply to Fawcette Technical Publications for the Editor in Chief position at Java Pro magazine. I didn’t get that position, but they did hire me to be Editor in Chief of Visual C++ Developer Journal. Years passed, and I went from one programmer’s magazine to another, ’til I eventually wound up here at Microsoft Learning — the Developer Audience Product Manager. I’ve thought a number of times that I wish I could pay back Lemay for writing a book that helped me make a career jump. Then yesterday, I notice that she blogged my "Open Letter to…" posts, mentioning that it’s "funny stuff." So have I karmically paid her back? Hardly, but I’m glad she enjoyed them.
Bonus Horrible Roadkill: I saw an owl roadkill today. Somehow, that was more awful than seeing a regular bird.
Comments (3)
06.28.2005 | 7:12 pm
Dear Tour de France,
Let me be clear, Tour: I realize that you are not a cognizant entity; you are an event. Hence, I will not feel angry if you do not respond. Even so, I think there are some things you — and your constituents — need to know what I am expecting from you this year, if you wish us to continue on friendly terms.
First and foremost, I expect you to be dramatic. In 2003, you got it right. You knocked a bunch of people down (but not so hard that they couldn’t get back up), had high-speed wrecks, and a nail-biting finish. Last year, however, you seemed to relax your guard. You phoned it in at first, and then overdid it when you tried to compensate, knocking people out instead of simply knocking them down. By the time the race ended, I was watching stages because I always watch the stages, not because I was interested in what would happen next (Hint: when the biggest topic of discussion is when — not whether — some guy who got the yellow jersey by fluke is going to lose that jersey, you’re on the wrong track). This year, don’t disappoint me. I want a tour that is — above all else — to make me care about some rider or group of riders.
Next, I want T-Mobile to fulfill their promise. Ullrich, Kloden, and Vinokourov all on the same team? Are you kidding me? Tour, please talk to these three and explain to them that this is their last chance. if they work together, they really and honestly have a chance of beating Armstrong. Explain to Jan that most cyclists — including this Fat Cyclist — have a lot more in common with him than they do with Lance. Tell him to win one for guys who gain winter weight. And tell Kloden and Vinokourov that I absolutely forbid them from pursuing individual glory. Sidelining Zabel was a clear message of intent. If they don’t follow through, they’ll have me to answer to.
Tell Lance he’s run out of brownie points. He had cancer and had an awe-inspiring recovery. That’s great; so did my wife. He had twins. That’s great; so did my wife (and I daresay she’s got Lance beat on that score, since she did the actual bearing of the twins). He got divorced and started dating a rock star, then won the 2004 TDF in the most conservative, least-inspiring way possible, as if it had been scripted by committee. Brrrrrrappp! I’m sorry, sir, but you’ve run out of credit. Tell him I’ll be happy to root for him, but only if he gives me a reason to. And being faster than everyone else is not a good reason. Tell him to do something amazing. Tell him to do something brash. Tell him to have a wreck early in the race, if he can’t think of anything else (though — let’s be honest — that’s a little passe now). Tell him to do something.
Tell OLN they’re on double secret probation. Last year I didn’t have a DVR. Now I do. Any more Al Trautwig-esque shenanigans and I will simply fast forward any time I see a talking head. Furthermore, please tell Bob Roll that he’s only 30% as entertaining as he suspects, and that he can rectify this — to a large degree — by talking 70% less. Tell Phil and Paul they’re doing just fine.
Tell the crowds on the side of the road that they’re freaking me out. Last year, I had to walk out of the room a few times when I saw racers riding into that sea of people. This year, please let everyone know that it’s not polite to get too close to people (it violates their personal space), and it’s downright rude to spit on them. I think that will take care of the problem. If it doesn’t, please alert them that if they don’t cut it out, they will no longer be able to call US citizens "ugly Americans" with any degree of credibility. That should do the trick.
Tell someone to surprise me. This is really just a recapitulation of my first point, but I want to make it clear. I would like nothing more than to see some racer I have never heard of — or am only peripherally aware of — bust out the race of a lifetime and demolish all my heroes. For more than anything else, I am capricious and want to be entertained.
These are strong demands, Tour, but I feel that if you step up to the challenge we will both be happier. We’ve had some good times, Tour. Let’s try to work this out.
Kind Regards,
The Fat Cyclist
PS: Today my weight is 173.8. Which means that somehow I jettisoned 3.6lbs during the day yesterday. Which is why the weekly weigh-in will no longer be on Mondays — my weight always spikes over the weekend.
Comments (4)
06.28.2005 | 10:20 am
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Dear Tour de France,
Let me be clear, Tour: I realize that you are not a cognizant entity; you are an event. Hence, I will not feel angry if you do not respond. Even so, I think there are some things you — and your constituents — need to know what I am expecting from you this year, if you wish us to continue on friendly terms.
First and foremost, I expect you to be dramatic. In 2003, you got it right. You knocked a bunch of people down (but not so hard that they couldn’t get back up), had high-speed wrecks, and a nail-biting finish. Last year, however, you seemed to relax your guard. You phoned it in at first, and then overdid it when you tried to compensate, knocking people out instead of simply knocking them down. By the time the race ended, I was watching stages because I always watch the stages, not because I was interested in what would happen next (Hint: when the biggest topic of discussion is when — not whether — some guy who got the yellow jersey by fluke is going to lose that jersey, you’re on the wrong track). This year, don’t disappoint me. I want a tour that is — above all else — to make me care about some rider or group of riders.
Next, I want T-Mobile to fulfill their promise. Ullrich, Kloden, and Vinokourov all on the same team? Are you kidding me? Tour, please talk to these three and explain to them that this is their last chance. if they work together, they really and honestly have a chance of beating Armstrong. Explain to Jan that most cyclists — including this Fat Cyclist — have a lot more in common with him than they do with Lance. Tell him to win one for guys who gain winter weight. And tell Kloden and Vinokourov that I absolutely forbid them from pursuing individual glory. Sidelining Zabel was a clear message of intent. If they don’t follow through, they’ll have me to answer to.
Tell Lance he’s run out of brownie points. He had cancer and had an awe-inspiring recovery. That’s great; so did my wife. He had twins. That’s great; so did my wife (and I daresay she’s got Lance beat on that score, since she did the actual bearing of the twins). He got divorced and started dating a rock star, then won the 2004 TDF in the most conservative, least-inspiring way possible, as if it had been scripted by committee. Brrrrrrappp! I’m sorry, sir, but you’ve run out of credit. Tell him I’ll be happy to root for him, but only if he gives me a reason to. And being faster than everyone else is not a good reason. Tell him to do something amazing. Tell him to do something brash. Tell him to have a wreck early in the race, if he can’t think of anything else (though — let’s be honest — that’s a little passe now). Tell him to do something.
Tell OLN they’re on double secret probation. Last year I didn’t have a DVR. Now I do. Any more Al Trautwig-esque shenanigans and I will simply fast forward any time I see a talking head. Furthermore, please tell Bob Roll that he’s only 30% as entertaining as he suspects, and that he can rectify this — to a large degree — by talking 70% less. Tell Phil and Paul they’re doing just fine.
Tell the crowds on the side of the road that they’re freaking me out. Last year, I had to walk out of the room a few times when I saw racers riding into that sea of people. This year, please let everyone know that it’s not polite to get too close to people (it violates their personal space), and it’s downright rude to spit on them. I think that will take care of the problem. If it doesn’t, please alert them that if they don’t cut it out, they will no longer be able to call US citizens “ugly Americans” with any degree of credibility. That should do the trick.
Tell someone to surprise me. This is really just a recapitulation of my first point, but I want to make it clear. I would like nothing more than to see some racer I have never heard of — or am only peripherally aware of — bust out the race of a lifetime and demolish all my heroes. For more than anything else, I am capricious and want to be entertained.
These are strong demands, Tour, but I feel that if you step up to the challenge we will both be happier. We’ve had some good times, Tour. Let’s try to work this out.
Kind Regards,
The Fat Cyclist
Comments (1)
06.27.2005 | 4:17 pm
- You fabricate reasons for why you shouldn’t check your weight.
- You are gaining weight at approximately the rate you should be losing it.
- You start thinking of the diet as an enemy, and have an eating binge simply to spite that enemy.
- You have an ongoing weekly weight-loss sweepstakes, and miss the goal weight by five pounds.
Clearly, last week was a massive failure. I’ve got all kinds of reasons why I gained weight instead of losing it — work stress, inability to train because I was helping at Boy Scout camp, uniformly fattening food at said camp — but none of them are valid. First comment w/ email address gets a $100 amazon.com gift certificate, and the Sweepstakes jackpot gets reset to $25. Pffffff.
Today’s Weight: 177.4. And it’s raining so hard I couldn’t bike to work today. Nice.
Comments (8)
06.23.2005 | 7:44 pm
Dear Champion SuperMarket Chain,
Yesterday, I got my Guide to the Tour, a supplement to Velonews magazine. I’m pretty sure this guide is simply a translated version of the Tour Guide published in France, ads and all.
Champion, I am pleased that you are supporting the Tour, and pleased that you are the Official Supermarket of the Tour de France. Alas, since I don’t live in France, your ad never had a chance of getting me to buy anything, so you may want to reconsider how you spend your ad dollars next year. Still, If I ever go to France, now I know where to get my official Tour groceries, and that’s something. I guess.
That said, Champion, I feel I must tell you that your full-page ad (attached at the bottom of this blog entry; a larger version can be seen at my personal website) in this guide has creeped me out unlike any ad I have seen in recent memory. I submit the following reasons for why:
- The adult male appears to have had a frontal lobotomy. He’s looking into space and has a slack-jawed, lopsided grin. I’m confident the only reason we don’t see drool is because it has been photoshopped out. He does not make me want to buy groceries.
- The adult female is wearing the strangest baseball cap I have ever seen. No, calling it a baseball cap is inappropriate, for it is clearly a spotted turban with a bill. Also, the expression on her face leads me to believe she is screaming for vengeance, which I believe is the main reason the cyclist looks so scared. She does not make me want to buy groceries, but she does make me want to buy life insurance.
- The female child being held by the adult female is, I believe, a witch. Her concentrated expression and the way she is making a hand gesture while looking directly into the eyes of the (again, terrified) cyclist leads me to believe she is the instrument that will effect the vengeance her mother wants so badly. Also, the sleeve of her t-shirt puffs out as if it were inflatable. Perhaps this is a flotation function prepared against the likelihood of angry villagers trying to drown her?
- The cyclist has the largest, most terrified eyes I have ever seen. He knows these people want him dead, and probably also realizes his bike is tilted so far up and to the left that there is no way he will not keel over onto his side. His terror is so great that he has forgotten to be embarassed by the fact that he’s tucked his jersey into his shorts.
- The leftmost male child looks wistful, perhaps because he knows that his sister is placing a pox on the cyclist.
- The rightmost male child is the only person in this photo who looks like he’s actually cheering at a cycling event. However, due to his position, orientation, and where he’s looking, he’s clearly not cheering at this cycling event. I notice, furthermore, that his left sleeve is big and puffy, in a manner similar to the way his sister’s puffs. I do not believe this child is a witch, so am now reconsidering the t-shirt-as-an-emergency-flotation-device theory. I now, instead, believe that this is how French children carry their cigarettes.
- The smallest male…child?…dwarf?…mannequin?…undead zombie?…is the real crux of the problem with this ad. His head is massive, and looks 40 years old. It is also expressionless. Like most of his siblings, he’s evidently got either a life vest on under his t-shirt, or lots and lots of cigarettes rolled up under the short sleeves. This person makes me want to avoid your supermarket at all costs. In fact, he makes me afraid to go outside at all.
Champion, please believe me when I say that every single person in the United States would be better at producing ads for your supermarket than what you’ve got here. Give one of us a call; we’d be happy to help.
Kind Regards,
The Fat Cyclist
PS: Today’s Weight: 175.8. I gained 1.2 pounds yesterday? I just don’t get it.
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Comments (3)
