While the northern lower peninsula of Michigan has been enjoying some steady snow, further south we have been stuck in a continuous mix of melting snow in the day, freezing snow in the night, along with ice, slush, rain and other wintertime fecal matter. The days since Saturday’s race have been a wasteland of [fun] physical activity and I find myself grasping at any legal means to keep myself motivated through the soggy, gray, wet crap-tastic days.
From my records (records = this crap blog) it seems that it’s been well over a year and a half since I lined up for a race. I’ve gone to races, photographed races, talked about races, wrote about races and peed in the woods at races, but somehow I’ve managed to avoid racing for 1 year, 8 months, 25 days and counting. During that time I’ve gained weight, rode less, then rode more, still gained weight, rode anyway ’cause that’s just what I do and all but forgot what it’s like to put out any sort of race day effort. So, it makes perfect sense that I signed up for the Fat Chance at Crystal Mountain this coming Saturday.
I’m a moron.
The other day while riding along talking with friends on the New Year’s Day group ride, many folks (myself included) were talking about how the dawn of the fat bike has made riding our trainers all but a thing of the past. So far this fall/early winter I have spent a whopping four minutes on the trainer. I tried, but I just couldn’t do it. When forced indoors for physical activities I’ve been more than content with running intervals and jogging on the treadmill and strength training. You just can’t beat the mental rub and a tug of riding your bike outside, no matter what the weather, and I wasn’t going to sully that feeling with time spent pedaling and going nowhere for no reason.
Then yesterday happened.
What a difference a week can make. Last week during our visit to Pennsylvania for the holiday it was 66˚. That’s not normal for PA, or anywhere in the north-east of the U.S., but I was loving every single whacked out degree above normal. Fast forward seven days and I’m back in Michigan and dealing with heavy, wet snow, slush and ice, and all the joyless activities that come with it: wearing ugly winter shoes, shoveling, back pain, slipping, sliding, scraping, having a mental breakdown because I can’t get the snowblower to start, breaking a snow shovel during said mental breakdown, having a friend point out that it’s a dirty spark plug preventing the snowblower from starting, using the snowblower, and knowingly and calmly accepting Wifey’s lecture to me where she points out that she loves me but it’s so not normal to have a complete breakdown and break a shovel (and maybe a piece of siding on the house) because a snowblower won’t start. Point taken.
But as they (mostly the U.S. Sweet Potato Council) say– at least we have sweet potatoes to bring love, peace and harmony to our lives…
It’s been a week since the girth of my flabby ass cheeks rubbed up against a bike saddle. During that time I ate and drank a LOT. Ham, beef, potatoes, pizza, whole blocks of cheese, sweets, cookies, beer, and gin fueled cocktails all found their way into the muffin-like stomach that spills over my too tight jeans. I also spent nearly fourteen hours in the car driving to and from Pennsylvania for the Christmas holiday. I slept like shit, ate like shit, and I’ve felt like a fleshy turd mentally and physically over the past week.
Now back into the frigid bosom of Michigan, I was given the choice to either run on the treadmill in the Stankment® or head out into the crisp air and wind for a Better Than The Trainer Ride™ in an attempt to make a dent in all that flab. With Monday calling for freezing rain and sleet, I chose to ride and save the indoor miserableness for Monday.
As the Christmas holiday approaches, riding has slowed down a bit. A drop in temperatures and high winds had me opting out of rides on Friday and Saturday. However Sunday I did get in the woods for a lap at MMCC on the Procaliber.
This December has been pretty sweet as far as weather. We here in Michigan aren’t exactly getting the warm sixty-ish degree temperatures that some of the east coast states are getting, but for these parts in December, forty degrees and no snow is just as good, and in many ways my rides have felt more like those done in late fall and early spring rather than winter. Having said that, I feel the need to add: THE SUN COULD SHINE ANY F*CKING DAY NOW!!!
After Friday’s sweet ride in the woods on the Procaliber, I took Saturday off the bike to go take some pics at a local cross race here in town [you can see the gallery at junkmilesmedia.com]. Unfortunately it pissed down a hard rain all day Sunday, so a ride was out. Then on Monday the piss down continued, but this time it was accompanied by gusting, wrath of God, Old Testament style gusting winds. With that, I needed to be content with lifting heavy things for no reason and running going nowhere in the Stankment™ until today. Huzzah!
As expected it pissed down a cold rain today here in Michiganderburgh. In between rain drops, dad/house duties and a piss poor excuse for a strength training workout, I finally got around to putting up a post and gallery of pics from my walkabout in Braddock over the Thanksgiving holiday in western Pennsylvania. You can check it out at junkmilesmedia.com.
Later.
My plan to ride my bike on Friday was a fail. The winds were still just too damn strong. On Saturday there was a winter storm moving through, with little visibility, so I opted to run on the treadmill for a half an hour, then head down to Terry’s Cycle to pick up some much-needed winter riding gloves before stopping by the Alma Grand Prix of Cyclocross course with my camera to click some pics of the reported “fun” ride that was going on there. The run, the gloves and the pics were all a success, even with only two riders (including the ride’s organiser) showing up for the ride.
