12.4.2006 | 11:52 am
A Note from Fatty: Congratulations to James for being random; he’s the winner of the triple-awesome Banjo Brothers Commuter Backpack! James, email me and I’ll hook you up.
If you were to hang around with me for a couple days, you would wonder how it’s possible I could ever be a fat cyclist (and to be clear: I am rapidly becoming fat again, what with the daily high temperature being just above the point at which oxygen liquefies). In the morning, I have a bowl of high-fiber cereal, usually with either fat-free milk or fat-free yogurt.
Often, I have fruit with breakfast.
For lunch, I eat pasta, more often than not. And by “pasta,” I mean pasta I have cooked at home and brought to work. I have a little sauce on the pasta, and a couple large spoonsful of cottage cheese. But I rarely have meat with the pasta, and never any cheese.
Often, during the day I will have a snack: fruit, more often than not.
For dinner, I eat a reasonable dinner.
The Danger Hours
And yet, I gain weight. This is due to the nightly transformation — usually around 10pm — I make after the kids have gone to bed. This is the couple of hours during which my wife and I aren’t taking care of kids or work. This is the time when I read the news, read comments on my blog, read a book, and maybe watch something on TV.
This is, in short, the time when I am sitting down in very near proximity to both the pantry and fridge. This is the time when I can eat absentmindedly, eating an entire bowl of cereal without being aware that I ate anything at all. Then eating another bowl of cereal because I’m a little disappointed in myself for not paying proper attention to the first bowl and feel like I should make amends.
After that, I’m tired of sweet stuff; what I really need now is something salty. Something wrapped in a tortilla. With cheese.
By the time I’m done with my improvisational burrito antics, I’m completely sure that I’ve blown my diet for the day. It’s at this point that this theory I’ve developed comes into play. The theory is that you can only gain a certain amount of weight per day, because your body can only absorb so much. Once you’ve crossed that threshold, nothing else you eat counts; your body’s just going to discard it. So you may as well enjoy yourself tonight. Get a fresh start tomorrow.
Feel free to try that theory out yourself. You may discover — as I have — that it doesn’t seem to hold much water during the day, but makes perfect sense when you’re feeling guilty and need an excuse — any excuse — to convince yourself that you haven’t, in fact, gained four pounds in one day.
I am pretty sure, in short, I gain all my weight during the final two hours before bed every night.
What I Need
Having identified the problem, I have come up with a great solution.
I need to hire a Diet Enforcer. I need someone to follow me around and grab food away from me for the final two hours before bedtime every night — the time when my willpower is low and I feel like I’ve earned a treat. Ideally, this person will block my entry to the kitchen altogether, but must not be afraid to tackle me and reach into my mouth and extract whatever s/he finds.
This job, I think is evident, is not for the squeamish, nor for the faint of heart. Nor for the timid.
Also, it’s not for the kind of person who actually expects to be paid.
Job qualifications include:
- Must be stronger than I am: I don’t mean physically stronger — I’m not much for violence. I mean mentally stronger. Because I guarantee I will try to wear you down.
- Must be wily. I will do my darnedest to outwit you.
- Must not be hungry. I will try to co-op you by offering you food. If you’re eating, you can’t very well deny me, can you?
- Must not be looking for a friend. I will certainly tell you how lame you are, probably on a daily basis. Make that hourly. This must not bother you.
Apply now! I’m sure this position will fill fast.
Comments (23)
12.1.2006 | 2:19 pm
I’m a little overwhelmed at the number of responses I got (66, so far) to my questions yesterday on whether I should do a Fat Cyclist jersey.
Apparently, I should.
Before I go into my planned next steps, please let me say this: thank you.
The fact that there are a couple thousand of you out there visiting my site each day means a bunch to me. That quite a few of you seem interested in actually owning up to that fact publicly is simultaneously startling, disturbing, and remarkably gratifying.
So again, thank you.
The Jersey Design
Now, those of you who’d like to try designing a jersey, please email me a sketch — it doesn’t have to be fancy — of how you’d like it to look.
You can either design the jersey using my existing logo, create a new one (which I would then adopt as my site logo), or something in between.
If I like your design, I’ll ask you to refine your idea, and will then put the designs to a vote (unless I’m overwhelmed by the awesomeness of a particular design, in which case I will make an executive decision and the matter will end there).
Your Company Logos
If your company wants its logo on the Fat Cyclist jersey, please email me with information about your company, how much they are willing to contribute, and what (size and position of their logo) they would expect in return.
If You Want a Jersey…
Stay tuned. I’ll have more information on how to order a Fat Cyclist jersey before long.
Homework Assignment
OK, now with that out of the way, I would like you to try the following and report back with your results:
- Find your heart rate monitor.
- Get on your bike.
- Ride at a nice, moderate pace for ten minutes.
- Shift up, but maintain the same cadence and ride for another two minutes.
- Repeat step 4 until you are at your absolute limit.
- Stand up and sprint for ten seconds. Note your heart rate.
- Leave a comment telling me what your heart rate was at the end of that exercise.
Mine was 193. I swear, I used to be able to hit 204. I’m getting old.
So why am I suddenly interested in maximum heart rates? Well, because I just got myself a coach: Robert Lofgran. He’s got me wearing an HRM, doing actual specific workouts, and is helping me reverse more than a decade of bad training and eating habits.
You see, I’d really like to win at least one race sometime in my lifetime. Is that so much to ask?
Comments (42)
11.30.2006 | 1:45 pm
You know, I owe Mr. Lance Armstrong a big “thank you.” Knowing that he’ll be racing the Leadville 100 next year has motivated me to start training for that race a lot earlier than usual. (More about that tomorrow.)
It’s also made me start thinking seriously about making a “Fat Cyclist” jersey to wear.
The problem is, I have absolutely no idea of what’s involved in designing and ordering a custom jersey. I furthermore have no idea how much it would cost. I have no idea what brand would be good to go with. And I have no idea what logos (besides mine) I’d put on it. And I have no idea how many I should make.
I, in short, am the least-qualified person in the world to make my own jersey.
Maybe you can help.
Ten Simple Questions
One thing I’ve learned while writing this blog is that for any given topic, my readers know more than I do. So please, weigh in on the following:
- Would you at least consider buying a Fat Cyclist Jersey? I’m not asking you to commit right now, because you have no idea what it looks like, how much it costs, and so forth. But suppose it looks cool and you can afford it. Would you wear a jersey that boldly proclaims you are a Fat Cyclist?
- How much would you be willing to spend? I’m not in this for the money. All I’d want to do is break even (and would probably even be OK with losing a few bucks, because I’m pretty darn vain and like the idea of a bunch of people wearing a billboard for my site). But I need to have a good sense of what your tipping point is for buying a Fat Cyclist jersey.
- What brands of jerseys do you like? What brands do you hate? Most every brand of jersey, as near as I can tell, will let you do a custom jersey. What I want to know is if there are any particular jersey that several of you have had a great experience with, or conversely, if you’ve had a horrible experience with a brand.
- Do you think Assos would give us a special deal if I promised to delete my Open Letter to Assos? Actually, it doesn’t matter. There’s no way I’m deleting that post. Especially since that would mean losing Dr. Lammler’s comment, which I think we can all agree is the best thing that has ever appeared in my blog.
- Have you ever designed and ordered a custom jersey before? And if so, would you be willing to help me out if I decide to do this? Would you be willing to do a rough design as part of a contest? The winner would go on to do a finished design and get two free jerseys for her/his work.
- If you haven’t designed / ordered a custom jersey, but know someone who has — and has done a beautiful job — do you think you could con them into designing a jersey for me?
- Do you have a relationship with a company that might sponsor the Fat Cyclist Jersey, in exchange for space on the jersey? The more companies I can get to sponsor the jersey, the less it will cost me to make it. If you can get a company to sponsor at least the cost of three jerseys, I’ll give you your jersey for free.
- Should I just stop asking questions, start acting like a grownup, and design the stupid thing myself? I.e., am I in massive danger of creating the world’s largest committee, ensuring that the jersey will never get made?
- Should I feel guilty for padding this list of questions, just so I can get to 10? No, I didn’t think so either.
- Do you think my current logo would work on a jersey, or would the guy on a bike be too difficult to recognize when in motion? If so, do you think I should tweak the existing logo, go with a text-only treatment, or design a different logo for my jersey?
PS: It’s not too late to enter this week’s contest to win a totally awesome Banjo Brothers Commuter Backpack. I’ll take entries through Saturday, and will post the winner this Monday.
Comments (84)
11.28.2006 | 3:54 pm
A Note from Fatty: I’m really pleased to announce the fabulous Banjo Brothers have joined in the Fat Cyclist Ads-for-Schwag program. Readers with long memories will recall that the Banjo Brothers were the very first company to do giveaways with my blog, and they have always given away awesome prizes. Today, they’re continuing that tradition by putting up a great Commuter Backpack — $79.99 value — for me to give away. Read on to find out how.
When your mountain bike breaks in the middle of the ride, it changes the way you think. You see everything differently. Gum, rocks, candy bar wrappers, sticks, and rubber bands become valuable tools. If you manage to salvage a ride using stuff that was never meant to be part of a bike, you feel pride, and justifiably so. There’s a rough beauty, after all, to an innovative bike field repair.
I’ve seen some great field repairs in my time. Here are the ones I can remember right this moment.
Duct Tape Repairs
As many of you know, I always keep a yard or two of duct tape wrapped around my bike seatpost. This has been useful so many times I have lost track of them. Here are a few that come to mind, though:
- Cut Sidewall: I’ve taped the inside of a gashed sidewall at least twice, including twenty miles into a 100-mile race. It worked well enough that I forgot I had made the repair and continued to ride that way for another few rides.
- Band-Aid: When Kenny cut himself on a thorny bush at Moab last month, a strip of duct tape did a fine job of stopping the bleeding.
- Seatpost Repair: One year, while riding the Kokopelli Trail, Dug’s shock seatpost kept loosening up, unthreading, and threatening to fall off. While duct tape couldn’t prevent it from loosening up, it did keep Dug’s saddle from falling off.
- Frayed Cable Housing Repair: On the same Kokopelli trip, Dug’s front derailleur cable housing frayed, making the bike shift at incredibly inopportune moments (i.e., two or three times per second). Dug used what duct tape he hadn’t used on his seatpost to repair his cable housing. Dug owes me a couple yards of duct tape.
- Busted Pedal: I honestly can’t remember who this happened to (Bob, I think), but I recall someone’s pedal body — this is back when we all rode Speedplays, which have very brittle pedal bodies — shattered during a fall, leaving nothing to pedal on but the smooth pedal axle. So he duct-taped his shoe to the axle. This worked, though it required a much greater commitment to not falling for the rest of the ride, cuz, um, it’s difficult to clip out once you’re taped in.
- Busted Saddle: When I endoed at Brianhead 100 one year, my saddle snapped off, leaving nothing to sit on but a seatpost. I used my duct tape to round off the edges a bit. It still wasn’t especially comfortable to sit on, but beggars can’t be choosers.
- Busted Frame: Corey Jones’ bike frame broke while he was riding the White Rim last year, and yet he finished the 100-mile ride. He just duct-taped the top tube to the seat tube (it broke at the weld) and kept going. Corey commented that the bike didn’t handle quite as well as it used to.
Non-Tools as Tools
The thing about duct tape repairs is that since duct tape is designed to do everything, you’re not being truly creative when you use it to fix your bike. What I love to see is when people fix their bikes with something completely outrageous. For example:
- My Hotel Key: Before Shimano incorporated a pulley into its rear derailleur, you had to either make your cable take a long loop around, or use an aftermarket pulley — “Rollamajig” was a popular brand. I had one of these rollamajigs on my Ibis Bow Ti (I was all about the bleeding edge back then). Unfortunately, as I was racing the Leadville 100, the cable hopped off the groove of the Rollamajig and lodged itself tightly between the pulley and the apparatus that attaches the pulley to the derailleur. I simply could not get it out, no matter what. As time went on, I became more and more distraught, because I had been — for the first time ever — on track for a sub-9 Leadville. I just didn’t have a tool that would fish the cable out of that crevice. Until I thought of my hotel key, which was in my Camelbak. I swear, that thing must have been designed for the task, because I was up and riding 30 seconds after the idea occurred to me. The cable popped off five or six more times during that race, and I took care of the problem quickly each time. My finishing time was 9:13.
- A Stick: On a ride early this season, Kenny’s ultra-expensive, ultra-trick new carbon cranks had a little problem: one of them fell off. Yep, he was riding along and one of the cranks just fell off. If you ask me, cranks just aren’t as useful when they aren’t attached to your bike. Kenny tried using a stick to wedge the crank into place, but this is one of those times that a field repair was destined to fail. The crank kept falling off. So Kenny rode the rest of the ride one-legged, and was still faster than I.
- A Bit-O-Honey: Similar problem, but this time it was Aaron, at Fall Moab last month. And he tried using a Bit-O-Honey as adhesive. I am laughing even as I type this. Dug got this on video; Check it out at about 2:35.
- [youtube]eXsd6fdG-Ds[/youtube]
- A Safety Pin: Back in the olde days, when we used V-brakes instead of discs, Rick lost a pin for one of his brake pads — this was about ten miles into a thirty mile ride. Luckily, I still had a safety pin attached to my Camelbak from a recent local race; it fit perfectly. Better than the original pin, I think.
What Have You Fixed?
So this brings us to the contest, wherein you can win yourself a waterproof, totally excellent Banjo Brothers Commuter Backpack: describe a field repair you have made. I’ll choose a winner at random from all the good entries (i.e., a comment that says, “Pick me! Pick me!” guarantees you will not be picked, ironically).
Good luck; I’m sure you’ll win.
Comments (57)
11.26.2006 | 10:31 pm
Several Very Helpful Fat Cyclist Readers (VHFCRs, as I like to think of you) recently forwarded me an interesting tidbit of information: Lance Armstrong intends to race the Leadville 100 next year. Says Armstrong at the opening of his eponymous fitness center in Austin, TX (and no, this is not Fake News):
“The other bit of a challenge I want to do is a bit crazy. It’s a mountain bike race in August held in Colorado called the Leadville 100. It’s about an 8 to 9 hour mountain bike race, mostly on single track that very few people do and even fewer finish.â€
Upon reading this, I of course had a complex series of thoughts, including:
- “Oh boy! I’m going to meet Lance Armstrong!”
- “I’d better make sure I’m wearing a LiveStrong band in Leadville that week.”
- “I wonder if the race organizers will make him submit an application and wait for the lottery results, just like everyone else. Wouldn’t that be wild if he didn’t get in?”
- “If he really trained for it, I wonder what kind of time he’d finish with? Five hours?”
- “I wonder who told him it’s mostly single track? There’s no single track whatsoever in the Leadville 100. In fact, there’s hardly any double track. It’s almost all jeep roads.”
Then, suddenly, this pleasant train of thoughts was derailed by the following question:
“What if he’s read everything I’ve written about him?”
Ooh. That could be, um, problematic. Here is the conversation I imagine occurring, as Lance and I meet at the starting line.
Fatty (Fighting through the crowd): Mr. Armstrong! Mr. Armstrong! Would you mind signing my jersey?
Lance (Bored): Sure. What’s your name?
Fatty (Ecstatic): Most people just call me ‘Fatty.’
Lance (Raising one eyebrow): Really? I’m sorry to hear that.
Fatty: Oh, it’s meant affectionately, really. By most people, anyway. You see, I have this blog called Fat Cyclist. (Points at self, wearing the freshly-minted “Fat Cyclist” jersey I have — in this fantasy, anyway — designed and created).
Lance: So you’re proud of your weight problem?
Fatty: No, but it makes for good comedy.
Lance (Recognition dawning): “Hey. Wait a second. You’re the dork who’s always attacking me with fake news pieces on your stupid jokey blog, aren’t you?
Fatty (Worried): Um, I’m not sure what you mean. I’m a really big fan!
Lance: So you’re not the guy who wrote that fake press release about Phil Liggett getting fired because he let a full minute elapse without mentioning my name?
Fatty (Astounded): You mean you saw that piece?
Lance (Eyes glowing red): So you admit you are that guy. And yes, I saw it. Around 400 people forwarded it to me, usually with one of those stupid “I thought you’d get a chuckle out of this” messages, and a smiley face afterward, as if to say it was just a joke. Well, I’ll have you know that Phil wasn’t fired. We just gave him an appropriately stern warning and docked his pay.
Fatty (Sweating profusely): Heh heh. Well, um, ha ha. Well, you know, I was just kidding around. I didn’t really mean it.
Lance: Right. And that’s why you followed up with that “Lance Armstrong Drinking Game = Certain Death” story.
Fatty (Grasping at straws): Well, for what it’s worth, I actually fudged the math in your favor. I divided the 162 mentions of your name over the course of the full three hours of coverage, instead of subtracting out the commercials. If I’d have divided the 162 mentions by the 132 minutes of actual coverage time, it turns out that OLN actually mentioned your name every 48 seconds. You’ve got to admit, that’s pretty darn often. And besides, it’s not like I never do anything but slam you. Remember that fake news conference I wrote saying you had decided to race the rest of the 2005 TdF with one hand tied behind your back?
Lance: Yeah, I remember it, but that’s not exactly so much singing my praises as dismissing the validity of my competition, is it?
Fatty (Scanning for likely escape routes): I was hoping you wouldn’t bring up that particular point.
Lance: I’ll bet. And I’ll bet you were hoping I wouldn’t bring up the thing you wrote about Sheryl and me breaking up. Or about me being a bored househusband who’s forced out of retirement because my family and neighbors are tired of seeing me around. Or your suggestions for what ought to happen in my movie.
Fatty (Dumbfounded): You knew about all of those?
Lance: I’m Lance Armstrong. I know everything.
Fatty (Hesitant): So, um, are you going to sign my jersey? Please?
Lance (Rolling eyes): Yes, I’ll sign your jersey. But only because you’re wearing what looks like 100 “LiveStrong” bands. You shameless suckup.
Fatty: Gee! Thanks, mister! Can I ask you a couple of questions for my blog?
Lance: Do you promise to not make stuff up about me anymore?
Fatty: Absolutely.
Lance: OK, go ahead.
Fatty: Do you realize that every contender in this race today is hoping and praying that you’re just here to goof off, so they can finish ahead of you and tell their friends, children, and every other person they meet for the rest of their lives about the day they beat Lance Armstrong?
Lance: Yes. Tell your friend Kenny I wish him the best of luck.
Fatty: Thank you. I will. Next question: Was it your idea to rename this race the “Lanceville 100?”
Lance: No comment.
Fatty: OK, next question. Do you have the ability — as is widely rumored — to shoot laser beams out of your eyes, flattening the tires of competitors?
Lance: No comment.
Fatty: Sheesh. Care to comment on the speculation that you are able to increase or decrease gravity in highly localized areas?
Lance: How’d you find out about th…I mean, no comment.
Fatty: OK, I see how it is. Last question, then. Do you really think it was necessary to bring Bob Roll and Al Trautwig along to commentate this race?
Lance: It’s in their contract.
Fatty: Sorry, I couldn’t hear you very clearly over the PA system. Al seems to be saying “Lance Armstrong” over and over. Is that how he warms up his voice?
Lance: No, that’s his whole job.
Fatty: Thanks very much for your time, Lance.
Lance: You’re welcome. Now go to the back of the pack. I’m through with you.
Comments (30)
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