Tag Archives | winter riding

Joy of Snirt

This holiday week I have immersed myself in sloth of varying degrees, mostly saved for the tail end of the day in front of the fireplace. During the day I’ve been eating proper and being as active as possible so as to make amends for my evening vices. Those activities have mostly been confined to 3.5 mile runs/lumbers on the treadmill, but yesterday I got an itchy bung to be outside. So I aired up the Fatterson, dawned multiple layers of winter clothing, and headed out to experience The Joy of Snirt (thankfully void of hairy hippies getting their freak on).

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The Slogging Continues

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The winter thus far has left me with little motivation to get out on the bike. Prior to riding Sunday I had only ridden twice through the week; one freezing cold ride in the wind and snow drifts, and one short ride on the soft snow at Sally’s Trail down in Alma. The rest of the week was spent on the treadmill and lifting heavy things for no reason. I wanted to get outside on Saturday, and even went so far as to ready my snowshoes, but after I was done clearing the driveway of another five inches of snow, I lost my desire and found myself reaching for my Xbox controller and a bottle opener instead. Saturday would be Sloth Day.

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4 Degrees In The Sun

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I woke up Thursday and did my normal Jason things: multiple coffees, multiple dumps, wake B, make lunches, get B his breakfast, make and eat my breakfast, check that B brushed his teeth, make sure Wifey remembers her travel mug, etc., etc. Then as soon as Wifey and B were out the door I laid down for an hour of what I call “second sleep.” Pretty much an hour for me to lay there and think about what I need to do and try to forget about the fact that I got up at 6 AM without a paycheck in sight.

Whilst I laid there digesting breakfast, what I needed to do, the never f*cking ending Trump shit show and my hatred of said orange skinned Hitler, the mouse (or bat) living (mouse, now dead) in our garage wall, and whether or not I’ll ever have a real job again, I got a text from L.C. at Terry’s filling me in on the condition of Sally’s Trail down in Alma (slow, but rideable he said). Little does L.C. know, but I farted in his general direction, turned over an farted again (I had Mexican the night before. Maybe I should build a wall? Around my anus!!! Sorry).

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Motivation In The End

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After two days off the bike doing little other than snow removal, cussing, house work activities, and playing EA Sports FIFA, I somehow forced myself outside into the snow to ride this morning. I’d like to write a litany of motivating words telling you how great it felt to be out in the 20˚ temps, riding through the blowing and drifting snow, and how alive and full of life lusting TED Talks vigor I was, but that would be a bunch of bullshit.

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Miles Nowhere and Somewhere

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Winter is now (unofficially) officially here in the mid-Mitten. I was hopeful that it was detoured when the snow we got last Sunday melted through the week, but I knew it was here for sure when a quick pre-ride check of my phone Friday said it was 24˚/Feels like 17˚. What it should have said was 24˚/Feels like cold as f*ck.

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The Last of The Fat & Progress

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Thursday’s ride was followed by two days in the Stankment™ on the treadmill. One of those days consisted of some brief–don’t pull a hammy you fat bastard– sprints, followed by incline intervals at a walking pace that surprisingly got my average heart rate higher than the trainer, and about on par with–what admittedly are–my crap fat bike rides on snirt roads. Thankfully those two days underground were followed by a ride outside Sunday, a ride in which I pray to the Cycling Gods was my LAST ride on snow until late 2016.

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Stupid vs Stupider

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A fecal laced recipe of heavy snow, strong winds, little time, and the slap in the face realization that I need to lose a toddler sized amount of weight forced me into the Stankment™ to ride the trainer for three days in a row this week. I think it’s been two years or more since I rode the trainer that many days in a row! Ever since I picked up the Fatterson there’s been no need for such stupidity. Why do something stupid like pedal a bike to nowhere in your basement, when you can do something equally as stupid–yet oddly more fun–like ride a clown bike on snow covered dirt roads in 25˚ weather.

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A Reprieve From The Girth

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Last week was a strange beast indeed; one day I was riding snow and ice-covered roads in 25˚ temps, the next day it was 50˚ and I was watching debris fly by my kitchen window as winds gusted from 20 to 50 MPH. The next two days I was riding my bike on snow free roads with a grin on my face. Well, at least on Sunday I was grinning, because for nearly half of Saturday’s ride I seemed to be pedaling directly into constant headwind thinking that I should have just stayed at home watching crap FA Cup footy instead of riding.

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A Temporary Return

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It seemed like forever since I last rode outside. I am fully aware that in reality it was 11 days, but it might as well have been 1,100. As mentioned in a previous post, that time was well spent doing my best to become a Tub-O-Goo. A fatter, rounder, dumber me. Just what the world needs.

Today however I was finally able to say “Goo be damned!” and get out for a ride. Not a long ride, but a quick short 20 mile snirt road ride on the Fatterson in 25˚ temps is better than nothing, and since it was on the Fatterson it felt 50% harder, and was 40.23%  slower than when on a “real” bike (stats based on feel rather than some whacked out witchcraft like math). No offence to fat ridin’ , winter lovin’ folk, but I can’t wait to ditch the heavy fatty and get back to riding real bikes while wearing less than four layers of clothing on.

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Not Entirely

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I have a solitary, not at all lofty, goal when it comes to my winter riding–get outside at least once a week for a real ride. See, not that lofty. However it can still be pretty hard to accomplish.

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