I am starting to be a regular at the spin classes at the gym—which I never thought would be the case. I have not lost much in the way of lbs in the last 30 days—which is frustrating, but I continue to workout 5-6 times a week. I am going to have focus on every aspect of my diet for the next ninety-four days (days remaining before the event). For now, it is like training with heavy gloves (boxing metaphor given to me by Steve Asche, Virsa Coworker, as he kicked my arse up some hills during a lunch break—he is training for the Death Ride) the more I ride the stronger I get—the more I lose, the easier the ride. I am currently addicted to hummus with broccoli. (That should give you some insight into the level of my current diet—I have long since parted ways with comfort food.)
On Saturday, I completed a 30 mile bike ride (longest ever) with the Team in Training group. I really appreciate the support and the donations you have given—who knew that the fundraising would be the easier of the two challenges. Your generosity to the leukemia society continues to motivate me beyond my own competitive streak—thanks again. http://www.active.com/donations/fundraise_public.cfm?key=scott_leatherman
Gravity is My Enemy and My Lover
I was pushing up Sand Hill Road last week and at one point, I was only going 4.4 miles per hour. I think if I went any slower I would either have fallen over or would be in reverse. That said—my downhill speeds are wicked fast. I have exceeded 35 mph. I love pedaling downhill even when I reach ludicrous speeds. Plus, it allows me to catch or pass the people who were slightly faster then me on the hills. (Slightly faster then 4.4 mph) Like life though—there always seems to be more hill climbing then downhill coasting.
The next day, I drove the course to level set my view of the hills I climbed. The hills were not as bad as I thought and there was enough downhill to make the ride enjoyable. During the ride, I was too focused on the hills. It is easy to focus on the pain or the negative—hence the saying “up hill both ways,” which I was convinced was the majority of the ride. I had a great sense of accomplishment when I finished. I never once thought about quitting or wondered why I was doing this. It feels great—every hilltop is a victory and every downhill is the reward.
Man on the Moon
How is it we can put a man on the moon and yet we cannot find a way to make the bike seat more comfortable? The only thing sore after the ride was my tucass. I am switching my bike seat from the one on my mountain bike to the road bike. I hated my mountain bike seat—now I long for it compared to the pain dispensed by my current seat. Bike seats can cost over $100.00—which about 20 miles into the ride sounds like a solid investment.
“On Your Left”
I want to thank Chris Klayko (Virsa Coworker) for riding the first 13 miles of the 30-mile ride with me. (Chris is training for a double century ride from Portland to Seattle.) We kept a good pace on the flats (19 mph)—and for the first time on any of the team rides, I was passing people which was very exciting. You have to understand something: it is biking etiquette to announce you are passing on the left—so as you pass another biker—you say simply “on your left”. I am a slightly competitive person—so hearing “on your left” countless times, as I die on the hills—shoot lets be honest, I hear it in the flats as well—really gets my goat. So for me to take emotional revenge on the pack of riders from my own team was juvenile, but I thoroughly enjoyed saying “on your left” to the dozen or so people we passed. You can always tell the difference from people who are just being polite and the people who enjoy saying “on your left” just a little too much. Later, as Chris was driving home he honked his horn from his truck and gave a fist pump of encouragement, when he passed me still trying to finish the ride. This too is the appropriate team “cheering” behavior. Again—I took a little too much pleasure in the honk and “go team!” I shouted to people I saw as I was leaving. I was ear-to-ear, cheering them on from the comfort of my truck.
If I have a particularly tough ride—I hear I can go to parks where people walk, jog and skate to vindicate myself with countless “on your left” as I pass slower traffic. ;-P
Life Changing Moment
There are defining moments in a person’s life that commits them to a path or way of life. For example: getting prison tattoos on your face, or admitting you voted for the next American Idol. On Saturday—I did what many would think as unthinkable. I wore, if you have a weak stomach look away, lycra cycle shorts in public. The excuse "everyone was doing it " crossed my mind—but the reality of it was that I was just trying figure out if there is some added benefit to wearing them that outweighed the public embarrassment. On the ride they were more comfortable than the mountain bike shorts; they didn’t get bunched up like shorts do; they kept my legs warmer and my use of them didn’t cause widespread panic. I will wear them again next Saturday—which makes me one of them. You know—those types. The ones who walk around the Trader Joes with skintight cycle shorts as if they are dressed for church. OK, so I am not walking around God’s planet in my lycra shorts—in fact as soon as I am done, I cover up faster then Amish person at a pool party. But I woke up this morning thinking I might ride at lunch and I need to pack my bike shorts. Which makes me one of them. However, I am accepting donations to persuade me back to the non-lycra wearing crowd.
——- Solicitation ————————————————————————-
Start the weekend off right and make a donation to the LLS. I have surpassed my personal fundraising goal—but this portion of the challenge is never ending. If you have promised to give or you are thinking of turning a new leaf to becoming a caring and generous person (I am not judging J)—for your convenience the link to make a donation is below.
http://www.active.com/donations/fundraise_public.cfm?key=scott_leatherman
