7and8

I pushed my self to ride further than I have before. It wasn't exactly a baby step but it wasn't landing on the moon either. Both rides totaled took me 47+ miles this weekend. Read way back in posts summer of last year. I started this whole thing wondering if I could make it around the block. Now I can't wait to ride a century (100mi) 'race'.
The workout wasn't what kept me going. It was the serenity of it all. Peddling out on a stretch of road with no traffic, birds chirping, sun on my face. Corny as it all may be it was as I have described and more. Smiles and waves from runners, walkers, motorcycles and other cyclists.
I am grateful to have the family to support me with this. I wish everyone who read this could grasp such moments regularly, it does the body, mind and soul wonders. It doesn't have to be on a bicycle (but that would be cool 'cus we could talk about derailleurs and grease smudges on the calf - which gives me a another idea for a tattoo - , etc). It makes this ride called life much more pleasant.

As with the BLOG in general I want to show a side of myself that is a mystery to me.

Remember the post before last about *whew* the falling due to the clipless pedals was over and thank God it wasn't a full fledged fall. Well The first fall was over and I graduated to falling dead-pan over and in front of many, many people.

Friday was a beautiful day, the first sunny we've had in New England for a while. I was very lucky to get out and about. On my way home, at the intersection I fear the most, I was stopped. I tried to start but then suddenly the ground was rushing my right side. Like ski boots the shoes pop right out when they know your humiliation is complete. I hopped up and there was no doubt to ANYONE around what happened. The ladies behind me where nice to ask (between chuckles) if I was OK. I said that I was fine but I felt stupid. I asked if the fall at least looked cool. They were kind enough to say yes. I have a pancake-sized bruise in my hip, my right wrist is sore and my pride was in a sling....Until Saturday....

Yes folks, I'd like to say that my falling days were over. I went to an intro ride for this bicycle club I'm thinking of joining. I'm sure you understand the social pressure involved in establishing a new peer group. Everything was going well and I was paying a lot of attention to the shoes and trying not fall over. I think that was my 'down fall'. We were stopping for an instructional confab and I had both feet out of the pedals but needed to steady myself at the last moment. Apparently the angle and force of my foot on the pedal was enough to snap my right foot back into the pedal. I went down again. My only respite was that I landed smarter and in a softer place. Thank God a lot of cyclists understood and only laughed near me rather than at me. The really funny part was that one of my counter-part newbies was interested in the clipless setup and I was selling him on it up until the moment I fell. The ride leader helped me out by saying that he had been in clipless for four years but hadn't fallen until two months before.

Never let it be said that I was afraid to try something new; especially if the risk of me looking like a fool was present. I say boldly that I am that fool! Let those in a comfort zone and with fully functioning wrists wither in the sun-shine of new experience and exist in a grey reality that is complacency. Get out there, f#*k up in front of everyone but get back up and feel free to do it again. Flourish in your ineptitude and take your experience to the bank, even if it is the blood bank.

I competed in my second Triathlon on Sunday. I met or surpassed my expectations given the weather. It was a blast despite being soaked to the bone. The never-ending down pour gave it more character and had the added benefit of nubming my entire body to the sensation of pain. Who knew the swim would be the dryest leg of the race?
I was passed in the bike and run; but I passed people in all three legs. I'm more than likely to Tri again.
Many thanks to my wife and family for the support and sympathetic ear as I talked endlessly about it (listening can be an endurance sport too, right Barb?). Special thanks to my Y buddies (especailly Joe). And to Roy for the hook-up on a rockin' bike.
I have to loose weight to be faster next year but I'll worry abou that in November. Seriously, it's harder to loose weight than to compete in one of these events.

My results
Swim : 400yds| Bike : 7mi | Run : 2.3mi | Overall
Category |Cat/Ov Time | Cat/Ov Time | Cat/Ov Time | Cat/Ov Time
Clydsdale | 2/76 6:53 | 7/109 27:33 | 9/184 21:40 | 7/125 56:07

There where 11 guys in my category (Cyldsdale = >200lbs, I weigh 219) and 289 folks in the whole event.

I had a lot of fun and I am very happy. BTW I am finally dry.

When I bought my new bike I decided to go with clipless pedals. These are the kind of pedals that you snap a special cycling shoe onto. The main advantage is being able to pull&push the pedal through the revolution. I told the guru bike shop owner that I fully expected to fall. He told me to expect to fall at least twice. Both times going less than 5mph. Once at a stop light and once in front of my friends. I asked him if there was a way to fall and look cool at the same time. For some reason he just laughed at me.

I very well may have taken care of both of the falls in one day. Joe and I did a quick 10 mile loop in Franklin today. He was watching how I handled the clipping in and out since he was expecting his pedals at the store later that day. That should have been my first clue. We came to a stop sign and it wasn't a full blown fall but it was indeed an exaggerated stumble. Shew I was glad it was out of my system. Then we got back to the Y and I tooled over to the van to put my bike away and there was a distraction (ok, it was an attractive female) in the parking lot. I had one foot out and couldn't get the other one to let go. Fell right into the van. Since at least one or two people saw this one I decided to check my cleat to convey that either I was concerned for my equipment and therefore compassionate or that it was somehow the cleat's fault and therefore a victim. I know no one bought it but it made me feel better.

Since puberty and an unfortunate "awareness" incident I haven't left the house in sweatpants. I've had to go to physical therapy recently. The PT has to get to all of the muscles to massage and evaluate. I had to wear track pants (aka warm-up pants, or sweats if you rather). These particular pants are about as comfortable as they get but they have no pockets (they have stupid designs on the side that look like pockets). I had to carry my wallet (I only know two people who call it a bill-fold) in my jacket. I don't wear this jacket so often so I didn't know it sucked at keeping things in the pockets. So now I have to think about baseball, not reach for the non-existent pant pockets and try to keep everything in the sucky jacket pockets. Why didn't I see the next thing coming? Later in the afternoon I couldn't find my wallet. I looked everywhere. I called Target (last place I saw it) and the customer service lady basically said, "No, but doesn't that suck for you?" I looked all over the van, no sign... Until I had to wake 8 up. My new perspective solved my problems. I don't think I'm ever wearing sweat pants in public again. Matter of fact, the pocket-less pants and sucky jacket are worthless. I'll give them to charity so they don't go to complete waste.

One week to the next Triathlon. I did a 'brick' workout yesterday. For those unfamiliar with the jargon a brick workout is one where you concentrate on the transitions, especially from bike to run. After hammering on the bike (using one set of muscles) for awhile and jumping off into running (using another set of muscles) your legs feel like they are made of bricks.

As you may have read we went to a Cinco de Mayo party. It was a lot of fun but that feeling was sullied when in my second mile of running (trying to decide to die right there or wait for someone to shoot me when I got home) I burped and was treated to the smell and taste of the margaritas. It was almost 24 hours after I had the drink. Consequently I'm not going to drink lime Gatoraid for a while.

Me: "Can you baby sit for 7and8 while we go to a party on Cinco de Mayo?"

Sitter: "Sure, when is it?"

In all fairness, she took French in High School.

I picked this up on bikeforums.net from webist:
"Life is a Sexually-Transmitted, Fatal Condition"

Makes everything else easy. Speaking of fatal, 8 asked me if I was going to die some day. I had to tell him the truth. He didn't seem to believe I was from another planet that had blown up and now live here and draw power from your yellow sun.