I was pretty sure I was a badass.

Being several weeks into my cycling career I was pretty sure I was a natural, destined for road race glory. I was going to rival Lance. I've got the Big C story. I'm a cycling animal. The yellow jersey was in my sight. Then two things happened. First, I rode with some in-shape, competitive people. They totally dusted me. I saw them as we clipped in and started off and then only saw this:

Notice you can't even see the people I'm trailing.

Secondly, the Tour de France started this week. As with all honed athletes, studying video is imperative. I've been watching to note strategy, body geometry, gear, learn the lingo, etc. Unfortunately those guys are entirely not human so my point of comparison quickly vanished. Consider some of these stats from "You versus the Peloton":

• Average speed on flat terrain: 17–18 mph (you); 25–28 mph (pro rider) 
• Average speed on mountainous terrain: 9–10 mph (you); 21–25 mph (pro) 
• Estimated average watts at threshold: 170–220 (you); 405–450 (pro) 
• Miles ridden in a week: 75–140 (you); 700–800 (pro) 
• Calories consumed on a ride: 200–450 (you); 4,000–5,000 (pro) 
• Bottles of water consumed (three-hour ride): 2–3 (you); 4–20 (pro) 
• Hours of riding on a rest day: 0 (you); 2–3 (pro) 
• Hours of sleep a week: 40–50 (you); 70 (pro) 

They go 25 miles per hour. Up. The freakin' alps?! I must give myself some credit though. I could totally take on any one of those bike geeks in the hours of sleep per week category.

Considering I'm not going to be participating in the Tour de France 2013, help me at least be a badass in raising money for cancer research and give support here.

Hazards of Cycling: Wildlife

A few weeks ago a fellow employee who is on my Pelotonia team hit a gofer. While biking. Somewhat entertaining to consider, but understand he was going 18 mph and the gopher was supersized. It totaled his bike and he, in turn, totaled the gopher. Due to him being clipped in to his petals he spent a night in the hospital after going over the handlebars and detaching himself from the bike that, at that point, had a somewhat lucid, super pissed, supersized gopher, entangled in it. I bring this up because I thought it was ridiculous that 1) he didn't slow down when he saw a supersized gopher wandering about a bike trail and 2) he couldn't manage to miss it. However, I submit two pieces of evidence taken on a ride earlier this week with Eve and another fellow employee, that suggest I was wrong to judge him so quickly. He still should have slowed down.

Yeah. That's the bike path. Geese hiss and are apparently unhappy with their lot in life. 

That is a beaver. The size of a Labrador. Seriously.

Help support my ride, raising funds for cancer research. The beaver and patients everywhere will love you unconditionally. The geese will likely still hiss at you.

Motivation as Training

This past weekend, we engaged in a holistic training approach. I decided rather than spend time on an actual bike seat, I would harvest my inner motivation on why I value the Pelotonia (aside from the butt-load of money that is being raised… pun intended). This secondary motivation is exercise, regaining a better fitness level, and undoing 3 years of dietary debauchery in New Orleans. So we went to the beach. There may be nothing better than seeing Middle America, frying in the sun, drinking “light” beers, lounging in outfits entirely unfit for their body types, as motivation to get some exercise. My focus is renewed. As a side note and one that I am not the original author of: Drinking a Big Gulp sized Coke Zero while stuffing your pie hole with pork rinds is not going to help you lose that “winter weight”.

Support my ride here. 100% of your donation will go towards cancer research. 0% will go towards pork rinds.

Training solution.

You know that time when you are just getting to sleep or just waking up? That's the time I have my most ingenious thoughts. Last night was no exception. I thought of a way to not have to train anymore. Or at least make the training more entertaining. Since it was raining sideways today, I decided to test it out. Any attorneys know the open container law for a bike?

Cross- training: Squishy red ball & beating an old man.

Understand that up until several weeks ago most of my exercise regimen was encompassed by walking to get a cocktail or walking to get food.  I wasn’t in horrible shape; I just wasn’t in good shape. I knew that I could get into shape quickly…. I spent the first 4 months of my time in New Orleans religiously following Tony Horton, P90X, and their prescribed diet. That was prior my partner in crime arriving to town. Once Eve arrived, I went from exercise pious to exercise agnostic. It’s not as if I didn’t believe that it could exist, I just didn’t care for it.

So enter this past week. I’m taking the route of cross-training for this 50 mile event. And so I’m not winded when I open my car door. I signed up for a kickball league which I figured would be a good entry into wind sprints, leg strength, etc. How hard can a middle school game be, right? Wrong. Considering Team Kick ACC lacks defensive aptitude and the proper number of outfield players, this means Brian is full out sprinting, chasing a big, squishy, red ball, for every fielding inning as we get our asses handed to us. I can barely walk on Friday.

As we enjoy a cocktail last night on a nearby patio, we consider doing a spinning class. Cross- training, right? Call up the club, the class is at 8 Sat. AM. In the morning. Some people like to capitalize on their free time during the weekend. Being industrious and motivated. I applaud you. I like to capitalize on sleep. So getting up at 7 on a weekend is absurd, as far as I’m concerned. Somehow in a moment of mental weakness, I sign us up. I learn this morning that my sweat glands still work and my lungs still need some upgrading. Only at the moment where I thought I was going to lose last night’s steak on the spinning bike did I think it was a bad idea. The old guy next to me virtually lapped me. Easily. So it’s on… I need to regain my youthful masculinity against that old man. Every Sat, were spinning. Until I see that guy in my proverbial rear view mirror.  

Support my ride. Come on. It'll be fun. I promise. Donate here. 

Cycling "bloodflow"

So I've been relatively delinquent in my postings. Ill be honest… this is theoretically a training blog. I haven’t been on the cancer chariot for several days. Thus no new material. 

After my ride Thursday last week I decided to 1) get my bike tuned up, 2) invest in some shorts with padding in the butt and 3) Google “cycling and chaffing”. So I took the sled into the shop (BikeSource in Clintonville… good shop) and got it a tune up over the weekend while we were out of town.  She’s all greased up and ready to go. White lightening. Well actually blue, but the mental imagery is there.

A quick story on new things I've learned with a new hobby. I asked the salesman about geometry of the chariot and how to make it more efficient, etc, he suggests buying a new saddle. I quickly gathered saddle = seat. He suggests, straight-faced, that Specialized has the only saddle technology that takes into account “male bloodflow”.  I’m picturing how this devise is set up, the poor bastards who have to ride the machine and even worse yet, the technicians that measure it and assist with placement of whatever measuring devices are necessary.  As I envision this setup as something done discreetly behind closed doors (a “closed set” of sorts), salesman #2 excitedly exclaims… “I got to see them doing those tests. Up close and in person!”  Both I and salesman #1 stand mouths agape. Silence. Both of us surely thinking, “what an odd thing to participate in”. Salesman #2 then realizes the implications of this and exclaims, “They had shorts on”, as if we imagined them peddling entirely stark-naked.

I imagine the technicians of this affair having a similar outlook to those conducting radiation treatment on butt cancers. Just another day at the office. Seeing people’s undercarriages, up close and personal.


Want to support my ride? Fantastic. Donate here. 

10 Steps to Pelotonia 2012

Step 1) Attend company kick off event. Hear Pelotonia Founder and CEO Tom Lennox (and fellow colon cancer survivor- yey) give inspiring speech.  
Step 2) Feel bad that you are lazy and have only ever given money and not actual sweat towards cause.
Step 3) Ride full suspension mountain bike less than 2 miles and realize it's a horrible form of long distance transport.
Step 4) Reconsider irrational thoughts of riding any more than 2 miles. Consider giving blood instead.
Step 5) See co workers step up and sign up. Feel guilty. And competitive.
Step 6) Search Craigslist for a bike only slightly bigger and more masculine than pink, banana seat, streamers-from-the-handlebars, Huffy.

Step 7) Visit bike offered by nice, similarly statured (height impaired), man in Grove City. Feel comfortable with size of bike. Ride around block. Buy bike.
Step 8)  Put the newly purchased Trek in garage and don't touch or look at for 2 weeks.
Step 9) Feel inspiration again (see Step 1). Get on bike and ride 10 miles. Realize my ass is going to hurt for months.
Step 10) Sign up, create profile page, and start asking people to give me their hard earned money (puhhhleeeease) for a enormously personal, worthy, fullfilling, noble, impactful cause.