On a recent wintry lumber, I created a new course in my head that I was sure would easily get me over 5 miles and provide some new stimulation for my eyes. I was half right.
The new course just barely got me to my 5-mile goal, so that was a bit disappointing; however, it did provide the appropriate amount of visual stimulation for picture takin’, so I’ll take it.
I’ve been thinking more about the trails I lumber on lately, and it brought back some memories. I’ll explain.
First, let me say that I’m lucky to have a trail system 10 minutes from my house by car that I can lumber up to around 8 miles with only very short sections of repeated trail or crossovers. Sure, there are other trails nearby, but most of the loops are a couple of miles at best, and no one wants to repeat a loop 4 times in an attempt to get some decent miles in if they don’t have to. In addition, the trails at Deerfield provide me the perfect combination of being an easy drive close to town but still having wildlife and nature to photograph which helps me scratch my creative itches (it burns when I pee) as well as get a hike in.
Having said that, they aren’t the most technical trails, which is why in my heavy riding days, I opted for the 30-minute drive north to mountain bike the 20-mile trail system near the Mid Michigan Community College (also home to the first 10-mile lumber of my life this past September).
Still, I keep lumbering them and finding new ways to challenge myself and spice things up. And that is what brought back the memories using what you got to get where you want to be.
Back in the early 90s, when I started cycling, I lived in a small rural town where I could do 20 to 50-mile road rides out the door of my parent’s house. But after Wifey became Wifey in the mid-90s, we lived in the city (shout out to Regent Square, Pittsburgh), and my options were limited. Sort of, but not really.
I could have just given up riding and found something more city-like to do, like being shot or developing a coke habit with money we didn’t have, but instead, I used my youthful naivety and stupidity to find new ways of riding to fuel my burgeoning obsession with mountain bike racing and keep me in shape for long weekend rides in the mountains of PA or to make future summer vacations to Colorado more enjoyable and actually doable.
My quick after-work road rides would have me dodging busses and rush hour traffic as I sped up Forbes Avenue into Squirrel Hill and the “bike lane” along Beechwood Avenue or into Schenley Park to do some hilly loops. I would do this ride 3 or 4 times a week to stay in shape enough for the “real stuff” I wanted to do in the future.
This worked out well enough, then after months of discussion (begging) with my bosses, I was finally given permission to transfer from my office 40 minutes from our apartment in Greensburg, PA to one of the newspaper’s satellite offices close to the city. An office that just happened to be minutes from a local county park (Boyce Park) with a nice network of singletrack in it.
First city apartment. We had the first floor, $400 per month, 1 bedroom, utilities included. (Google Maps)
As my mountain bike and race obsession grew, I needed to get more actual time on dirt and Boyce was perfect. Sure, there was a trail system in nearby Frick Park, a few blocks away from our apartment, but I liked the trails at Boyce Park near my then-work office way better.
So, I got into the routine of packing my gear the night before and having my bike prepped and ready to put atop the car before leaving for work in the morning. Then, at 4:56 PM, I was in the office bathroom, changing into my soon-to-be-soiled chamois for an early evening dirt session before heading home.
I did similar with my road bike, utilizing Road Ride Launching Pads at rail trail parking lots to avoid city traffic and have access to bigger hills and and longer miles.
I kept this work-week routine up for years (’96 through 2009?) from apartment to apartment and from house to house; then, the weekends were about playing bikes in the mountains and nearby Bavington State Game Land trails, competing in cycling events, or road riding the rural roads out at my parent’s house 45 minutes away until the Pittsburgh winter would force me onto the stationary trainer or to the gym to strength train.
Most of the weekday rides, especially the city road rides out my front door, weren’t ideal, but they kept me in shape and focused on improving as a cyclist. In fact, these days I get shivers thinking of the times I cycled along city buses sucking up their diesel fumes or weaved my way down Forbes Avenue through backed-up rush hour traffic, anxious to get home and finally eat dinner. What was I thinking????
Anyway, the trails that I now relentlessly lumber on are much the same but more ideal for where I am in life right now (fat, old, and with new outdoor fitness goals). Are the hikes like doing a thru-hike on the Appalachian Trail? No. Do they have thousands of feet of climbing? No. Are there scenic vistas to get your juices flowing? No.
What they do have is the ability to keep me in good (enough) shape for a 53-year-old beer-loving man and allow me to become a more efficient hiker as well as learn the skillful art of trail running without driving hours for more technical or longer trails. And if I want to try an event or longer route somewhere in the future, I am WAY more ready than I was on September 19th, 2022, and the start of the 2022 Comeback Special.
All of this word salad is just my way of saying that you don’t have to live in the mountains or have access to the best or most beautiful trails to learn, improve, or maintain fitness for the activities you love or events you might want to compete in. You just have to do the activity. There are very few people in the world who have improved their skill at something by NOT doing it.
My late cycling friend Mike had traveled to France to ride in the summer multiple times and would talk of the famous Tour de France mountain passes he would climb and enjoy. He lived here at Mount Pleazy, elevation 772 feet. When anyone asked how he did it, he would say, “I just ride a lot, and here in Michigan, we don’t have mountains, but we have wind, and it can be way worse!”
This was yet another example of using what you have at your disposal in order to get where you want to be.
All of this reminds me of the quote from the movie Dodgeball I’ve mentioned a few times here in the past. The character Patches O’Houlihan, the team’s coach, is throwing tools at his would-be athletes from Average Joe’s Gym, and they are like, what the fuck? To which Patches gruffly replies, “If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball.”
Sometimes, that’s all “training” is; dodging wrenches until it’s time to dodge some balls. Just keep dodging!
Later.
Note: Patches also said, “Is it necessary for me to drink my own urine? No, but I do it anyway because it’s sterile, and I like the taste.” I think I’ll just stick to dodging wrenches.
THE SOILED SOUNDS TRACK OF THE POST