10.12.2009 | 11:46 am
A Note from Fatty: Tomorrow I’m kicking off a huge new contest to raise money for the Lance Armstrong Foundation. As it often does, this one involves a bike, but this time it involves a lot more than a bike. Check back tomorrow for details!
I had good intentions. I was going to liveblog and post pictures frequently and everything.
Really, I was.
But maybe it’s the sign of a good race that once 24 Hours of Moab began, I just wanted to ride hard during my laps, relax afterward, and not spend my time typing.
Sorry.
I’ll try to make it up to you now.
The Most Mellow Pre-Race Jitters, Ever
Originally, Team Fatty was going to be Me, Kenny, Rick Sunderlage (not his real name), and Brad. Brad, however, got so deeply immersed in designing a new flavor of CarboRocket (hint: do you like nachos?) that he had to step down. Taking his place was Nick Rico, a co-worker of Rick’s who’s been riding mountain bikes — he’s been riding single speed, but 24 Hours of Moab would be his first ride ever with a rigid fork — for only one year. I’ve ridden with Nick several times though, and knew he’d be plenty fast — he’s been a strong roadie for years and years.
Everyone, meet Nick, from a picture I took when he was not expecting me to:
From this picture, you may deduce a number of things:
- Nick has the longest hair of anyone on our team: 1/4″. Which makes me wonder: if you are a guy and you ride enough, are you bound to eventually either get a buzz-cut or shave your head entirely? I sure noticed a lot of guys at this race whose hair — or lack thereof — was dictated by suitability and comfort for wearing a helmet.
- Nick has the legs for this kind of ride.
- My nickname for Nick — Guns McCoy — is a good one.
Oh, and while we’re at it, let’s go ahead and introduce everyone else on the team. Here’s Kenny, wearing his Daisy Dukes, which he would in fact wear for the first lap of the race.
Kenny — foolishly, I think — volunteered to be the first rider on our team, which means he was volunteering to do the run in the Le Mans-style start. More on that in a moment.
And yeah, that photo’s about 3/4″ away from being NSFW.
Rick Sunderlage (not his real name) was the second racer in the Team Fatty lineup. Rick may be the single most competitive person I have ever met. He contests every summit. Every sprint. Which makes him a good person to have on your team:
Oh, and while it may appear in this photo that his legs are 18′ long, rest assured that in real life they are no longer than 16′.
And here’s me, showing off the team jersey, with my bib pinned on.
By the way, that green shirt I’m wearing is my “Going to Moab” shirt. For the past three or four years, I have worn that shirt every time I travel to Moab. Makes me easier to recognize. No, I don’t have a special reason. Some traditions don’t need a reason.
I was nervous for the race — it had been at least ten years since I had raced the 24 Hours of Moab, and I couldn’t really remember the course. Plus, everyone kept looking at us like we were nuts when we said we were racing in the Singlespeed Rigid category.
But it was a slow-burn kind of nervous, because even after the race began, I had a couple hours before it was my turn.
So meanwhile, I sat in my camp chair, enjoying the perfect weather — sunny, a slight breeze, and around 74 degrees.
Every time I thought about the fact that I would not be doing the run at the beginning of the race sent a little wave of relief through my mind.
The run was Kenny’s problem.
The Beginning of the Race
It’s weird that the most spectacular moment of the 24 Hours of Moab doesn’t happen on a bike at all. In order to alleviate the massive traffic jam that 365 teams would cause trying to get to the singletrack funnel at the start gun, the race has a Le Mans-style start, which means that someone from all 365 teams has to line up and run about 75 yards (guessing here — I’m terrible at judging open distances) to a tree, go around it, and then run to pick up their bike and go.
Here’s a small sample of folks waiting at the line.
Some people wear outrageous costumes, in keeping with the party atmosphere of the race. There was a team that wore wrestling masks, there was a team that wore matching pink tutus and wigs, and there was this guy, who I thought of as “The Guy Who Puts ‘Glad’ in “Gladiator.”
When the gun goes off, the chaos and dust from all the running is awesome.
I love that for the first several seconds, The Gladiator actually was out front of everyone. I love even more that the next morning, while I was out on my final lap wearing tights, a base layer and a jacket, I came across this guy also riding a lap…and he was still wearing this outfit. Although his mohawk had wilted considerably by then.
Oh, I’m sad to say that amidst the chaos, I could not find and photograph Kenny running in his Daisy Dukes.
My First Lap
Like I have mentioned, it had been a long time since I had raced — or otherwise ridden — the Behind the Rocks trail in Moab, and I’ve never ridden it on a single speed, much less a fully rigid single.
However long it’s been, it was plenty of time for me to forget how technical the course is. There’s lots of sand. There are some serious ledges — some you’ve got to climb, some you’ve got to descend — and there are a number of places where all but the most accomplished riders (hint: not me) had to dismount and portage their bikes down and up what feel like sandy cliffs.
That said, I had a ball. I rode right at my limit, but managed to not go past it and blow up. I managed a number of tricky rocky sections I saw others walking. And my big wheels and soft tires — at 22psi — made it so I was able to climb and descend through the sandy sections that others were getting bogged down in.
I didn’t crash, I didn’t get passed a lot, and I did pass a lot of people. Still, since I wasn’t wearing a watch or bike computer, I had no idea whether I was doing the team proud or ruining our shot at the podium.
I finished my first lap, handed the team baton over to the exchange official, swiped my RFID card to make it official, Nick swiped his card and got the baton from the official (this has to all be done in the correct order, and became increasingly difficult for me to remember as the race went on), and took off.
My first lap took 1:15:47 — about two and a half minutes slower than Kenny’s first lap which included a two minute bunch mass run. And I was just over a minute slower than Rick’s first lap. I couldn’t decide whether to be happy or sad about that result. On one hand, I really had put everything into that lap; I couldn’t have done it better or faster. On the other hand, I was slower than my teammates. On still yet another hand, I wasn’t a lot slower, and the race was young.
Taking all this into account, I decided to be moderately pleased with myself, and puffed out my chest. Moderately.
Here’s me, finishing up lap #1. Thanks for taking and sending me the photo, KanyonKris!
Oh, and sorry I flipped you off while you were taking the shot.
Second Lap: Cold and Dark and Fun
With our team doing about 1:15 laps, my second lap wouldn’t begin ’til 7:39, and it’s fully dark by then. I knew I’d be slower — fatigue from the first lap and my fear of the technical course would see to that. Rick came in — his lap partially in the dark — not much slower than his first lap, though — 1:20 versus 1:14.
And then something unexpected happened: I had a wonderful time. It had been years — since before the twins were born — since I’ve gone night riding, and I had completely forgotten how different and exciting it can be. I knew I could set my Princeton Tec Switchback 3 lights on high beam for the entire ride — they’ll go for six hours at high, and I only needed an hour and a half or so.
When you’re riding at night, your universe becomes very strange. On one hand, the giant vistas Moab is famous for disappear; all you can see is what your lights show you. On the other hand, if you look up, you see the stars — and away from the tent city on a clear night (which it was) you could really see the stars. I think I took almost an entire second to appreciate the stars during my night laps.
Ledges look steeper. The distant trail becomes invisible and therefore unimportant.
In short, riding at night has an immediacy that takes some getting used to, but is a lot of fun.
Full disclosure here: Princeton Tec outfitted Team Fatty with Switchback 3’s for free, so have your grain of salt if you like. But the fact is these lights are terrific. They were trouble free, burn for a long, long time, cast a big, even light pattern, and can be charged in a car or through AC power. I was very happy with them, and everyone else on Team Fatty had a similar experience.
I finished my lap feeling a weird mixture of elation and exhaustion. While my legs and lungs hurt, I had just had 1:26 (about ten minutes slower than my first lap, which is reasonable) of fun. Yes, I had fun, during a race. Incredible!
Third Lap: Same as the Second
Except for the fact that it started at 1:24 in the morning and was a lot colder outside, my third lap was nearly indistinguishable from my second. The time difference? Nine seconds slower.
I wasn’t the fastest guy on the team (that’s definitely Kenny), but I think I could now lay claim to being the most consistent.
I Love Campers
Until this race, I have never used a camper. I am now a convert. Being able to change in a warm, well-lit, enclosed place, then being able to lay down on what amounts to a couch for a couple hours is wonderful.
Thanks for the loan, Ricky M. And good luck cleaning up your camper. That thing is a mess.
Fourth Lap: Where Am I?
My fourth lap started at 7:31 in the morning, by which time it’s fully light. By then, I had gotten so used to riding this course in the dark that I was startled at what the trail looks like in broad daylight.
There’s something about having the sun come up after you’ve been up riding all night. Even though you haven’t slept (well, maybe I got an hour or two in there), you feel better. And knowing that this would be my last lap, I did everything I could to leave everything on the course. I was occasionally passed, but I passed people more often. Including — even on my single speed — on downhill grades (I was glad I had changed my gearing to 32 x 18 for this race).
This was strictly a race for my own satisfaction. By this point it was clear we could not, barring a major problem on Stomparillaz’ part — win our category.
But it still felt good to push myself as hard as I could, and to surprise people with an “on your left” as I went by, climbing stuff on my single that people were walking with geared bikes.
If you take a look at our results versus Stomparillaz‘ (the team that won the SS rigid category), it becomes clear why they beat us: They were consistently faster.
Weird.
In the end, we were just happy that we kept them close enough that they couldn’t quite lap us.
Podium and Aftermath
I needed to get started toward home before the awards ceremony began, so we got our medals, put our stinky Team Fatty jerseys back on, and got our own podium picture:
So yeah, we kind of promoted ourselves to top podium position here, where by rights we should have been standing a little to the left. Sorry, Stomparillaz!
And in the interest of full disclosure I should probably mention that since there were only three Singlespeed Rigid teams out there racing, we were going to get on the podium pretty much no matter what. However, one thing I am proud of is that we took 27th overall out of 365 teams. That’s not bad.
And now, a day later, my legs actually feel fine. It’s my arms that are cooked. The “rigid” part of “rigid singlespeed” class makes a difference on a rocky, technical course like this.
And only maybe a quarter of my stuff is unpacked.
Comments (47)
10.8.2009 | 8:30 am
A Note from Fatty: Drew Carey has made a couple of impressive commitments:
- If he gets 100,000 followers on his Twitter account by November 9, he’ll donate $100,000 to the Lance Armstrong Foundation.
- If he gets 1,000,000 followers on his Twitter account by the end of the year, he’ll donate $1,000,000 to the Lance Armstrong Foundation.
So if you have a Twitter account, go follow Drew. And if you don’t have a Twitter account, go sign up and then follow Drew.
Oh, and you can follow me, too. Though I’ll sometimes forget about the existence of Twitter for days and not update, I will occasionally let something interesting slip in Twitter before it shows up in the blog.
Dear Fatty,
I just thought you should know that you are going to be heading out tomorrow for the 24 Hours of Moab. And while it looks like it’s just one race, it’s actually a lot more than that. It’s more like you’re doing six or seven races, since that’s how many times you’ll be going out. And it’s a big self-supported camping trip. And it’s in the sandy desert, which is really hard on bikes. And half of the race is at night, which means it’s going to be cold and dark part of the time.
And, in your case, the logistics are even more entertaining because you’ve got to arrange for what the kids are doing — going to Grand Junction to stay with Grandpa — in addition to all of your own stuff.
In short, Fatty, you’ve got a few things to consider for this event. I just thought I’d write and let you know what some of those things are.
How to Race
While your team will be racing for 24 hours, Fatty, you will not be. You will be racing for 12 miles, then having a longish break while your three teammates take their turns doing a lap.
So I hereby give you permission to open it up on the laps. Race each lap like it’s the only one you’re going to do.
However, I do not give you permission to try to ride Nosedive hill. Because while you think you are technically strong now, in reality you are not. And when you are in race mode, you are not thinking that way anyway.
In short, ride out of your noggin, but only to the extent that you remain upright.
What to Bring
And now we arrive at the important part of this letter, Fatty: the list of stuff you need to remember to bring. Your readers will very likely find everything from this point forward this either the most interesting and useful, or most boring and useless, post you have ever written.
Luckily for you, this is their problem, not yours.
For The Twins
The twins will be staying with Grandpa, who will be taking them fossil hunting, fishing, and to church. So:
- dresses + shoes
- hiking shoes
- socks: 3pr ea
- warm weather clothes
- cool weather clothes
- coats
- food: the weird stuff that they always want that Grandpa for sure won’t have on hand
- Art stuff for in the car
- Books for nighttime reading
- Brush, soap, shampoo, toothbrushes, toothpaste
- PJs
Camp Stuff
You’ll be spending much more time at the camp than racing, so you may want to consider bringing the following items, which I am not listing in any particular order, since you have the least-organized mind in the whole world:
- A camp chair
- Hygiene stuff: think about others! Deodorant (!!!), toothbrush, toothpaste, about a million baby wipes, Purell by the quart, Listerine
- a blanket
- a sleeping bag
- Wood
- hats for sun, hats for cold
- Stuff to eat. Spam, maybe?
Bike Stuff
Since this is a bike race, you may want to bring your bike stuff.
- 2 bikes, both the Singlefly and the Waltworks. Aren’t you glad you have 2 high-end rigid singlespeeds? Redundancy is your friend.
- Lube
- Floor pump
- Lock and cable
- Tubes
- Tools
- Bottles. Lots and lots of bottles
Night Stuff
I know, Fatty, that you would prefer to do this 24 hour race as a noncontiguous pair of daylight races. This is not how it’s going to happen. You’re going to need stuff to help you see around.
- Princeton Tec light setup (which has arrived and is super-sweet. Thanks, Princeton Tec!)
- Headlamp
- Flashlight
- Lantern
Containers
You know what happens when you keep eating and changing clothes over and over during the course of a 24 hour period? You accumulate trash and stinky clothes, that’s what.
- Trash bags
- Dirty clothes bags
Cooking and Food Stuff
Your big secret this year — for how you’ve lost weight while still feeling like you have a huge amount of energy on the bike — is simple. Eggs. Specifically, lots of egg whites. You should probably post about how many egg whites you’re currently going through weekly and how you prepare them. Because they seem to be magic. Anyways:
- 2 Dozen Eggs
- Frying pan
- Pam
- Loaf of bread
- Salt
- Pepper
- Cholula
- Shot Bloks
- Peanut butter
- Nutella
- Knives, forks, spatula
- Water
- Carborocket
- Ice chests, duh
- bins
Clothes for On the Bike
What? Not riding naked? Chicken.
- Helmet
- Helmet cam
- Batteries for helmetcam
- Lots and lots of gloves, all different thicknesses. Aren’t you glad you don’t have to try to shift with those gloves on?
- Glasses: bring everything you own that says “Oakley” on it
- Under-helmet beanie
- Shoes: Specialized and Sidis
- Every jersey, jacket, vest, and pair of shorts you own, basically.
- Tights
- Socks: thin socks for day, wool for night
Clothes for Off the Bike
- Thermals
- shorts
- light shirts
- heavy shirts
- jacket
- coat
- pants
- sandals
- heavy shoes
- beanie
- hat for sun
You sure need a lot of stuff. Good luck on this race, Fatty.
Kind Regards,
The Fat Cyclist
Comments (74)
10.7.2009 | 10:28 am
A Note from Fatty: I have Very Important News today, but first I want to call attention to the fact that my friends at Twin Six are having their Four Day October Sale. 2009 T-shirts are just $16. 2008 T-shirts are $6.00. 2009 jerseys are down to $45, and 2008 Jerseys are just $35. And that’s not all!
Twin Six is also launching nearly all of the T-shirts from their 2010 collection, and putting most of them up at just $20. The others they’re calling PROTO’s, which are just $12. These are 100% perfectly great and brand new fresh-off-the-printer t-shirts. The reason they’re marked down to $12 is because of small changes Twin Six is making to them — graphic placement, slight color revision, etc. Absolutely perfect otherwise.
The sale ends at midnight Central Standard Time on Friday, October 10/9. Take a few minutes to dig around.
ST. LOUIS (Fat Cyclist Fake News Service) – Lance Armstrong, seven-time Tour de France champion, announced today that he is now 90% of the way to the completion point of becoming a huge nerd.
“Yesterday, when I tweeted my new partnership with Michelob Ultra, I crossed a major Huge Nerd milestone: 90%,” said the surprisingly geeky cycling great. “Only 10% more to go, and my transformation will be complete.”
“While some may not immediately grasp the nerdliness of this announcement,” continued Armstrong, “once you get a feel for exactly what the Michelob Ultra line consists of, you’ll totally see exactly how dweeby I can be.”
According to the Michelob Ultra site’s Product Info page, Michelob Ultra (which Michelob always all-caps, but this news release will not, because THAT’S VERY ANNOYING) in addition to a lager and amber, contains three dorky, fruity drinks. They are described on the product site as follows:
- Michelob ULTRA Lime Cactus: A fruit-infused light pilsner with natural lime flavor and a floral essence derived from the cactus.
- Michelob ULTRA Pomegranate Raspberry: A pilsner with a berry aroma, raspberry flavor, and a hint of pomegranate.
- Michelob ULTRA Tuscan Orange Grapefruit: A pilsner with fresh juicy orange notes and a slight pink-grapefruit finish.
“Yes,” said Armstrong, “I really am acting as the product spokesman for beverages with ‘juicy orange notes, floral essences, and hints of pomegranate.”
Armstrong then executed a snorting laugh, hiked his pants up high above his waist — the cuffs now well above his ankles — and pulled out his Blackberry, at which poinnt he Tweeted, “Just did a snorty laugh and hiked my pants high above my waist.”
Trend Toward Nerditude
“With the Ultra announcement, I have increased my nerditude quotient by 30%,” said the increasingly geeky cycling legend. “My first big move in this direction was of course when I began Tweeting pretty much everything I do.“
“That, however, only brought me to 15%. A mere taste of the nerdvana I hope to obtain. My next — and I think most inspired — move toward absolute geektasticness was to secure cycling sponsorship from RadioShack.”
RadioShack, it should be noted, has won the award for “Nerdiest Store in America” every year since 1921, and does a brisk business in DIY robot kits, radio-controlled cars, and strobe lights.
“The RadioShack sponsorship was huge,” continued Armstrong, “bringing me all the way up to 60% on the Alfred E Neuman Nerditude Appearance Scale (AENNAS).
“But,” said the well-known advocate for cancer research, his voice growing serious, “I knew I could be more nerdly still. And that’s why I’ve chosen to back some of the dopiest-sounding drinks I’ve ever heard of in my life.”
“And I’m not done yet,” said the racing icon, his eyes flashing. “Nor will I be, until I am 100% nerdly.”
What’s Next
At this point of the announcement, Armstrong revealed a poster showing the following image:
“As you can see, I am a visionary nerd,” said the visibly-proud Armstrong. “In addition to my recent partnerships with Michelob Ultra and RadioShack — by the way, I’m very pleased to announce the upcoming TRS-80 Model 2010, which will be released in concert with the 2010 Tour de France — I am leveraging my existing partnerships to help increase my goofiness.”
“Oakley, for example,” will soon be releasing the following new glasses:”
“We’re still working out the details,” said Armstrong, “but in addition to the high-quality optics for which Oakley is known, there will be Oakley-branded tape holding the frame together. We are tentatively calling the material this ultra-low-weight, high-strength material this tape is made of ‘Electrotapium.”
“I am also proud to announce that I am working with Nike to create a new line of off-the-bike wear, consisting entirely of wicking polyester pants, designed to wrinkle, ride up high around the crotch, and just barely graze the top of your shoe when you stand still, showing generous flashes of sock when you walk.”
“It is my contention that these two products, when released later this year, will easily boost my goober factor by the 10% I need,” asserted Armstrong.
“This,” concluded the father of four, “will enable me to embarrass my children as thoroughly as any other father in America.”
Nobody Armstrong has ever met was available for comment.
Comments (64)
10.6.2009 | 7:08 am
It started to snow — just a little — while I was out on a ride yesterday, which is not a big deal unless you’re a sissy.
Which I am, but that’s not the point of today’s post, so let’s just keep moving, OK? Thanks.
I returned from my ride to two worried little girls. The idea of dad riding out in the snow was very troubling to them. And the worry didn’t stop even after I let them know that I was reasonably certain I would keep all my fingers and toes.
By the time I had cleaned up, Katie had designed a solution the problem. She presented me with her invention:
As you can see, it’s me, on a bike, happy and comfortable in spite of the fact that it is cloudy and snowing (it’s so bad outside that even the (partially obscured) sun is sad). The primary virtues of this bike are as obvious as they are practical:
- Heater vent: Clearly labeled, it is blowing nicely at me. I like the way that Katie has thoughtfully placed it behind, rather than in front or overhead. This way, it’s not likely to dry out my eyes or leave me feeling uncomfortably hot in front.
- Roomy, Weathertight Enclosure: As evidenced by the drawing, not a single snowflake is getting through. That’s remarkable, but not as remarkable as the fact that the whole contraption is large enough for me to get up and walk around in. I needn’t worry about sudden attacks of claustrophobia in this!
- Easy Access: The windshield doubles as a front door to get in. Multipurpose functionality like this cuts down on weight, and that’s going to be important when I use this thing for my next TT to the top of the Alpine Loop.
- Two-Wheel Drive: Once the snow begins falling in earnest, I’m going to be really glad that the chain goes to both the front and rear wheel, making it possible for me to get out of deep snow and over icy patches. Frankly, I didn’t expect this kind of functionality in a first-pass drawing from a seven-year-old.
Problems
All that’s well and good, but here at the Fat Cyclist household, I expect a certain level of excellence from my children. And in several key areas, Katie’s invention falls short.
- Moose Antlers Are Heavy: It’s evident that in lieu of normal handlebars, Katie has elected to have me steer using moose antlers. Have you ever tried lifting those things?
- The Seat is Too Low: I can see why she has the seat in a low position like that: to enable the weight savings that come with a low ceiling. But as is readily evident in her drawing, I am not going to be able to get optimal leg extension with the saddle where it is. Furthermore, if I were to raise the saddle, my head would bump against the ceiling. “You know my axle-to-saddle measurement is 74.5cm,” I said. “Everyone in this house does. Don’t go trying to cheat on your designs and build me a snow bike that won’t accommodate that saddle height.”
- The Wheels are Too Small: I can see that Katie opted to go with 22″ wheels. She knows good and well that I don’t have a single tube that size, and that it’s almost impossible to find good, lightweight rims in that diameter. “Go look in the garage,” I admonished her. “Do you see any 22″ wheels out there? No? Why do you think that is? That’s right, because it’s not a common wheel size. Now go back to the drawing board and re-do this with 700c — or at least 650c — wheels.
- No Shifting Mechanism: I appreciate the fact that Katie acknowledges my current fascination with single speeds, but this is ridiculous. There is no way I am going to get that thing up and over a mountain pass with the current gearing. And if I don’t miss my guess — and as an internationally beloved and award-winning internet cycling blogger celebrity I rarely do — she’s set this thing up as a fixie. Not only is that impractical, it’s downright pompous.
I of course gave my daughter all of this constructive feedback and sent her on her way, pleased with my parenting skills, and confident that her next drawing will be better thought out.
Comments (98)
10.5.2009 | 12:02 am
I find myself at a strange nexus of circumstances, rendered all the more strange by the fact that I don’t know what “nexus” even means.
Consider, if you will, the following.
Item One: I am in remarkably good shape. I have thumped my chest and gone on and on about this recently, but the thing is: when you’re in really good shape as rarely as I am, it’s a conversational topic you find reason to bring up pretty darned frequently.
This isn’t just me feeling strong on the bike, either. In the past couple weeks, I’ve posted strong TT times on the Alpine Loop climb, Clark’s Trail in Corner Canyon (yeah, I’ve talked about both of those before), and — just a few days ago — on the North Suncrest road climb.
I’m at the point where I think it’s entirely possible that at the 24 Hours of Moab this weekend, I’ll be able to race without being a huge liability to my team.
That’s a new sensation, I’ll tell you.
Item Two: This has been a remarkable riding season. A really wet spring led to excellent trails and dense green foliage throughout the summer. And now we’re getting the big autumn payoff: all those leaves are turning colors now:
And when those leaves fall on tacky, packed forest singletrack — well — there’s nothing in mountain biking that is quite like it.
It’s like riding on a carpet. A red and yellow, short nap pile carpet.
Item three: It has begun to rain here. Often and a lot. It stands to reason that because items one and two have put me in excellent position to really enjoy being on my bike that…the weather has suddenly gone straight to hell.
Now, if I were Jill Homer, I’d be relieved. “Oh, good,” I would think to myself. “Finally, the good weather is behind me. Now I can start enjoying my bike again.”
But I’m not Jill Homer. In addition to other (more obvious) ways, I could tell this recently as I shot down the Alpine Loop on my road bike. The wind bit into me enough that I could feel my reaction time slowing. Rather than relish the refreshing feeling of hypothermia onset, as Jill would, I found a spot in the sun, stopped, and hugged myself — whimpering — until the shaking subsided and rational thought returned. During this time, I said to myself, repeatedly, “I will never ever ever ever do the Iditarod. Ever.”
I’ve lived in Finland. I’ve lived in Seattle. I know cold. I know rain. I don’t like to ride in either.
Which leads us — at long last — to today’s topic: What is my winter fitness plan?
My Winter Fitness Plan
My fitness plan for this winter is to gain as much weight as possible, in record time. I intend to do this using the following time-tested techniques:
1. Begin new exercise program. Or, as some less-enlightened people might say, “Begin exercising less.” I intend to do this through the medium of fooling myself. When it’s rainy (or windy, or snowy) in the morning, I will say to myself, “I’ll catch a ride later, when it clears up.” Then, if it doesn’t clear up, I have an ironclad excuse for not riding. If, on the other hand, it does clear up, it won’t matter anyway, because by the time the afternoon rolls around, my day is locked down.
It’s a brilliant strategy, and has worked for me hundreds of times. I have no reason to believe it will not work for me this year.
There will be times, however, when exercise is unavoidable. For these times, I will tell myself that:
- Winter is the time for me to put in long, slow miles. Sadly, I don’t have time for the “long” part. But slow, yes. That I can do.
- It’s been a while. I shouldn’t overdo it. I don’t want to strain something, after all. I should just kind of work back up to a good fitness level. Today will be the first step down that path. Just like the one time I exercised the previous week was.
- There’s plenty of time. Once winter begins, spring seems like forever away. This is because spring actually is forever away. Until, suddenly, it isn’t. Weird how that happens.
2. Begin new diet. I prefer the term “new diet” to the lmore demeaning (and, fine, accurate) description known as “eating more food, eating worse food, and eating more often.”
What I have noticed over the course of many winters is that, once there are more dark hours than light hours in a day, my body knows that it’s time to hibernate. Where before all I wanted to eat are apples, carrots and egg whites, suddenly I find myself wanting to hijack a Frito-Lay truck.
Worse yet, I generally want to use the Hostess truck I’ve hijacked earlier in the day to execute that (second) hijacking.
3. Begin using the scale judiciously. As autumn progresses toward winter, I intend to use the scale less and less often. You see, the bathroom scale is a very close relative to the mechanism used to kill (or not) Schrödinger’s cat. To wit, until I actually step on the bathroom scale and measure myself, I have not technically gained any measurable weight.
Trouser tightness notwithstanding.
I have high confidence in this plan, and am happy to say that I am well on my way toward executing it. It has been three days since I’ve been on a bike, and I’m feeling soft and lazy, and am considering my second nap of the day doing a good job of tapering for my race this weekend.
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