It is known far and wide that I make the best mashed potatoes in the entire world, as well as the best banana cream pie. My chili is perhaps the best in the world, too, especially when matched with the fry bread I make. When I choose to, I am fully capable of demonstrating an unmatched ability to grill and dress a burger.

And now it’s winter, when I traditionally let my guard down and make all this food. It’s when I demonstrate that I could quite probably run a comfort-food restaurant. People love me this time of year.

And I have grown fat again. I am amazed how little time it took. No, just kidding. This happens each year. I’m just pretending to be amazed.

It stops now, though. It has to.

 

The Fat Cyclist 2006 Event Itinerary

2006 is going to be my biggest, best cycling season ever. I need to be in shape for it. No, “in shape” doesn’t cover it. I need to be in the best shape of my life. Here’s why.

• Kokopelli Trail Ride (May 13): My first big event of the year is also the biggest thing I’ve ever planned. An unsupported, 142-mile ride means I need to be light and strong, much earlier in the season than I’ve ever been. My target weight for this ride is 158. I will do almost all my training for this ride on the road, since it is not an especially technical ride. My primary goal is to finish this race at all. My stretch goal is to finish it before midnight (21 hours).
• Cascade Creampuff (June 26): Three laps, each about 33 miles long. Each lap, you climb for around 6000 feet. Then, just as your legs are about to give out from the climb, you get to go down 15 miles of twisty, technical singletrack. I’ve done this race once before; after one lap, I was completely cooked. It’s the only race I’ve ever given serious consideration to quitting. In fact, I did quit this race, several times. I just never said it at a place where it would be official. My target weight for this ride is 155. I will train for this ride both on the road and on trail. You can lose lots of time on this one by being a poor technician. My primary goal is to finish this in under 13 hours. My stretch goal is to finish it in under 12.
• Leadville Trail 100 (August 12): This is the big one. This will be the tenth time I’ve done this race. I will be 40 years old. I would really, really, really like to finish in less than nine hours and get that big ol’ coveted belt buckle. My target weight for this ride is 150. I will train mostly on the road for this ride, focusing on sustained climbs.
• Track (Weekly races throughout the season): My goal here is just to compete and get to a point where I don’t embarrass myself. Since I’ve never done this before, I have no idea what else I should shoot for.

How I Will Get There

Getting down to the weight — and getting the strength — I need to be competitive isn’t at all mysterious. I know how to do it. It’s just a matter of commitment.

• Diet: I know what works for me. I go with a high-carb diet, but keep most of the carbs in the form of fruits and vegetables as possible. Apples, bananas, carrots, brown rice. And don’t eat after dinner.
• Exercise: For now, I will just do base miles — keep up the bike commute, but go the long way (18 miles each way) instead of the short way (11 miles each way). Once there’s more light, I’ll be swapping in early-morning long efforts and hilly rides.

The Contest Will Be Back

I stopped doing the daily weigh-in and the weekly weight goal contest a few months ago. I believe I started putting weight on at exactly that moment. So that will be coming back, beginning February 1. I am giving myself until then to lose as much weight as possible in private, without the humiliation of the public daily weigh-in.

It is my fondest hope that I will be able to lose enough weight between now and then that nobody will be able to guess how much I actually have gained in the past few months.

 

The Banjo Brothers Bike Bag Giveaway Question

OK, so now you know what my biking goals are for 2006. An extremely cool Banjo Brothers biking duffel bag — it’s got special pockets for your helmet, your shoes, everything — goes to the commenter with the most intriguing / entertaining / honest / otherwise compelling 2006 goals and plan.

This contest will, by the way, go through Monday, January 1 — so you’ve got plenty of time to think about it.

 

PS: Happy new year!

For me, biking is a sport of obsession. I’m obsessed with my weight. I’m obsessed with equipment. I obsess over favorite roads and trails. I obsess over important events and races. It's a sickness.

I do not wish to be healed.

I love when some new aspect of cycling takes hold of me, makes me start thinking about it constantly. I love mulling over whatever has gripped me, turning it over and over in my mind, seeing every angle of it, trying to solve it. How could I ride a trail faster or better? How should I prepare for an event? How can I get down to 150 lbs?

 

I Am Rational And Pragmatic

Some obsessions take hold slowly. Last week, Brad sent an email out to a group of people saying that he’s interested in riding something I hadn’t even heard of until this point: The Kokopelli Trail Race. I looked at the description of the race — a completely self-supported ride of the 142-mile Kokopelli Trail in one day — and deleted the email message without replying.

I figured, after all, Brad was joking when he sent that message. I mean, a couple months ago, when I talked about bonking, Brad’s and Rocky’s experiences on the Kokopelli Trail were two of the three stories I used to describe what an ultimate, pull-out-all-the-stops bonk looked like. So for Brad to suggest doing this course at all — leave alone as an unsupported race — seemed a little wacky.

Other people did reply, though, saying this race looks like an interesting challenge. So I fired off a reality-check email to straighten them out:

Out of like a million attempts, we've completed this ride once. And that was with support meeting us in at the following places:

• Base of Beaver Mesa climb
• Fisher Valley
• Dewey Bridge
• Westwater Ranger Station Underpass
• Rabbit Valley

Remember: even with the support--carrying only the water we needed to get us to the next meet-up spot, we started at 4 am, and finished at 11pm.

Doing this ride totally unsupported means you'd have to carry your lights all day, along with clothes for both cold and hot riding. And of course, a full day's worth of food and water. How much water is that? and how do you carry that much?

Man, that drop into and climb out of the canyon before Troybuilt in the dark, when you're exhausted, was hard. Most of us were so tired we crashed once or twice on the downhill. And we were so wiped out we got lost in the climb out. We all agreed we never wanted to do that again.

And what about bonking, the way Brad did between Dewey Bridge and Rabbit Valley? What if you do that on this race, but there's no sag wagon to pick you up, Brad? What do you do? Die?

I figured that would bring everyone to their senses.

Instead, it made me start thinking about what the solutions are to the problems I had identified.

And when I say “thinking about,” I of course mean “thinking, increasingly often, until it consumed all my waking thoughts.”

I was no longer thinking of it as an interesting problem. I was picturing my setup, my gear, my effort, and my strategy. And I was asking my wife about whether I could fly out to Utah in mid-May.

 

I Am Neither Rational Nor Pragmatic

I don’t have much in the way of endurance cycling boasting rights, but I do have one pretty impressive credential: I have never DNF’d (for you non-racing types, that’s short for “Did Not Finish,” and it’s what officials write by your race number when you quit a race. “DNF” can be used as both a noun and a verb). My attitude stays level even when I’m suffering, and I’m able to push through bonks and keep going.

So, yeah, I think I could do the Kokopelli Trail Race. Here are some of the thoughts now constantly swirling around in my head:

• What would be my goal? Finish before midnight.
• How could I save on gear? Find a friend who would make a pact with me to ride together. Then divvy up redundant gear. We could share a water filter. We could share a pump. We could share light. We could share a phone (for just in case.). I'll need to check with the race organizer as to whether this violates the "self supported" mandate.
• How would I avoid mistakes? Everyone gets punchy after riding for long enough. I know that my brain stops working well after 18 hours or so on the trail. Having someone along to double-check decisions is probably a good idea, though I’m not sure that two addle-brained riders are better than one.

That’s just the start of it. If I’m going to do this ride, I’ll need to be in extraordinary shape by the beginning of May. Which means I need to start training seriously now. The side-benefit of this is it would leave me good and fit for the Cascade Creampuff (Kenny, Chucky and I are hoping to get in), and — of course — for the Leadville 100.

See, I’ve got it all figured out. What could go wrong?

I mean, besides everything?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know some people who will not ride unless they have company. I am not one of those people. I like riding with another person or with a small group (or even, occasionally, a large group), but I’m also happy to go riding by myself.

And yet, I never ride alone. There’s always that stupid voice in my head, right there with me, providing a narrative, giving advice, and making remarks about my riding ability.

Frankly, I don’t care for him much.

 

Meet the Voice in My Head

Oh, he (yeah, he’s male) doesn’t talk all the time. In fact, sometimes he’ll go for long stretches without saying a word. And the times he chooses to talk actually says a lot about him. It’s always when I’m right at my limit. I could use some encouragement. And so that’s when he says things like,

• “So. This is all you’ve got, is it?”
• “Any time you’d like to step it up, feel free.”
• “Come on. Go. Seriously, it’s time for you to stop holding back.”

And, sometimes, he doesn’t say anything at all. He just laughs. Man, I hate it when he does that.

 

No Comfort, No Help

As near as I can tell, the voice in my head lives to motivate me exclusively through the medium of sarcasm and derision. Why is this the case? I mean, this is just a voice in my head. It’s me, talking to me. Why can’t I say nice things to myself?

For example, I’d love to hear me say to myself:

• “Hey, you’re headed for a personal best. Keep up the good work!”
• “Don’t worry about fading. You’ve done your best.”
• “You can do it! I have complete confidence in you!”

Come to think of it, never mind. That guy sounds like a motivational speaker. I think I prefer the sarcastic, snide guy.

 

Maybe It’s Just One Guy?

I did extensive research for today’s post, consisting of instant messaging with my friend Dug for a few minutes. First off, I should point out that it’s not easy to broach this topic. Asking a guy if he hears voices in his head is similar to accusing that guy of being insane.

Dug said that of course he heard a voice when he’s riding hard. As near as I could tell, it’s the same guy I hear. Condescending, disappointed, and curious as to why you’re even bothering if this is all you’ve got.

I developed the theory that perhaps everyone has the same voice. That there’s just one snarky, ethereal guy, wandering the earth and whispering mean-spirited remarks into our ears. A disappointed, snide, and sarcastically amused spirit guide for cyclists, if you will.

 

Or Maybe It’s Not

Then, because I am an extremely intrepid journalistic type who always wants to get my facts straight, I conducted even more research, this time in the form of an instant message conversation with my brother-in-law/friend Rocky.

It turns out that Rocky has got a voice, too. But it’s a way different voice. His voice tells him, in a matter-of-fact way, to cut it out. “This is stupid. You are not getting paid for this. And this in not fun,” it says to him.

And when Rocky really dials it up, a completely new voice barges in. This one doesn’t even talk. It just belts out a primal yell.

I’m pretty sure my inner voice has never yellled. Maybe that’s why Rocky makes all the technical moves, and I clip out at the first sign of danger.

 

Final Report

Based on my exhaustive research, I make the following assertions about cyclists and inner voices:

• All cyclists hear voices when they ride hard.
• The type of voice you hear corresponds to the type of rider you are.
• None of the voices are friendly.
• We are therefore all either equally sane, or equally insane.

I am of course, interested to know what kind of voice you hear, what it says, and under what conditions.

Also, I’d like to know if mine is the only one that speaks with an outrageous French accent.

Today’s post was going to be a list of things you can buy as presents for your cycling friends this holiday season. Believe it or not, it’s actually a pretty good batch of sensible stocking stuffers that I don’t think any cyclist would be disappointed to get.

As I was doing a little bit of background research last night, though, I discovered something. Something my mind is still doing flip-flops over. Something that could not wait. Something that made me no longer want to write a list of stuff I hope someone gives me, disguised as a list of things you can give someone else.

Oh, I’ll still do the list. In fact, I’ll do it tomorrow. But today, I must talk about Genuine Innovations’ Big Air!

Editor’s Note: Yes, the exclamation point is part of the name of the product. As an editor, I have a real problem with products that use punctuation as part of their name. I mean, what if I want to use the name of this product in the middle of a sentence? So usually, I remove the punctuation from product names when mentioning them, just out of spite. As you’ll read shortly, however, I think you’ll agree that in this case the exclamation-point-as-part-of-product-name is warranted. Thank you.

 

Background

I don’t like using hand pumps to fix flats on my mountain bike. The volume of air in a mountain bike tire requires you to pump and pump and pump and pump if you want to bring it to a reasonable pressure. After five minutes or so of this, you begin to question whether mountain biking is even worth the effort.

But with the advent of pressurized cartridges, inflating a tire on the trail is the fastest, easiest thing in the world. Especially if you have the right setup.

For more than five years, I’ve been using the same setup for inflating tires:

• Genuine Innovations’ Microflate valve: This is probably the simplest CO₂ valve on the market, and I think it’s pure genius. It has no moving parts. You just thread the tiny valve onto the canister, push the valve onto the tube stem, and then partially unscrew the canister. The more you unscrew it, the faster your tube inflates. Screw it back in to slow or stop inflating.
• Genuine Innovations’ Big Air! 40g Canisters: These are much bigger than the CO₂ cylinders you’re used to seeing. They hold a much greater volume of gas, and so can easily fill a mountain bike tire. (Genuine Innovations claims a single canister can fill two mountain bike tires, but my experience is that you need to plan on one canister per flat or you’ll underfill the tire and get a pinch flat.)

Let me state for the record: I am perfectly happy with this setup, and do not in any way want Genuine Innovations to further innovate it. I’m a fan.

 

Big “Air!”

So as you can expect, I fully intended to recommend a Microflate valve and a six-pack of Big Air! canisters as a terrific stocking stuffer for cyclists (in fact, I still do). In fact, I thought I’d provide a handy link right to Genuine Innovations’ website, so you could learn more about their fine products and order them from the comfort of your own home (I am an extremely service-oriented blogger).

This is the information/purchase window Genuine Innovations has for the Big Air! canister:

 

And this was my reaction:

 

You mean, I’ve been riding with a couple of little pressurized propane tanks in my seatbag for the past five years? I’ve been filling my tires with propane?

Wow.

Cuz, well, propane, well, you know, burns.

And by "burns," I mean "explodes."

 

Careful Wording

Unable to believe what I saw on the web page, I reached down to the lower bookshelf on my left, where — conveniently — I have several Big Air! canisters. Nowhere on the canister does it say something like, “Ingredients: Propane.” Although, now I finally understand what that “Warning: Extremely Flammable” is about, not to mention the admonition to not expose the container to heat above 120F (49C), or to not use near any ignition sources.

You’ve got to give the marketing folk at Genuine Innovations credit: “Big Air!” sounds much better than “Little Propane!”

 

I Have a Question

Being the intrepid journalist I am, I quickly went to the “Contact Us” page on the Genuine Innovations website, and sent them the following message:

Is it true that your Big Air cartridges really contain propane? If so, after I fill my tubes from a Big Air cartridge, are my tires in any kind of danger of exploding or bursting into flame when I ride my bike and the rims become very hot from constant hard braking on a long, steep descent?

To Genuine Innovations' enormous credit, Tony Hollars, Founder and Director of Technology replied within twelve hours (eight of which I spent sleeping) of my sending this question. Here's what he said:

There is no danger unless you have an open flame. Propane propellant is used in products like shaving cream and kids' bathtub soap. That's where we got the idea for the Big Air. Most propellants in aerosols are flammable, so use the same precautions.

And of course, the appropriate journalistic follow-up question to this is, “How come I’ve never heard of propane-powered bathtub soap?” ‘Cuz that sounds like fun.

 

A World of Possibilities

I confess: I was surprised and alarmed to discover that for the past several years I have been filling my tires with the same gas many people barbecue with (I’m a charcoal briquets man, myself — nothing beats the smell of charcoal-cooked burgers). I mean, one little spark and — BOOM! — Flaming Wheels of Death.

But am I really worried that those Big Air! canisters I keep in a seatbag directly beneath my butt are actually a highly-pressurized explosive? Nah. Lotsa people — including me and practically everyone I ride with — have used these canisters for years and years and years; I’ve never heard of any flame-related incidents happening to anyone. In fact, the only Big Air! injury I’m aware of went in the opposite direction. Once, as I finished inflating a tube, Rick told me I should inhale the rest of the gas and see if it made me talk funny. Always up for a gag, I lifted the canister up to my mouth.

This was an error.

Let’s just say that while I knew the canister would be cold, I didn’t expect it to raise a blister.

Now that I know that Big Air! is propane, though, I’m intrigued. Suddenly, I see many genuinely innovative uses for Genuine Innovation’s Big Air! canister. None of which you should actually try.

• Hunger Scenario #1: You’re on an all-day mountain bike ride with friends. It’s lunchtime; everybody’s starved. While everyone else unpacks sandwiches, energy bars, nuts and other trail food, however, you get out a Big Air!, some surgical tubing, and a very small grill. You then pull out a kabob — I’m partial to a stack of shrimp, peppers, chicken, mushrooms and pineapple — you’ve had marinating in Teriyaki sauce in a waterbottle for the morning, grill, and enjoy. Massive envy ensues.
• Hunger Scenario #2: You’re out biking in the desert and start feeling a little peckish. You’ve seen numerous rabbits during the day, and must admit to yourself that a nice braised rabbit sounds mighty tasty. You get out a Big Air! and, the next time you see a rabbit, puncture the top and ignite it, pointing it in the direction of the rabbit. The jet-propelled canister rockets toward the rabbit with extraordinary precision, killing it instantly. You gut the rabbit using the blade in your multi-tool, get out another Big Air! and the rest of the grilling apparatus you always carry with you (see Hunger Scenario #1), and get cooking. From that moment on, you are regarded by all your riding friends as the alpha male. Even if you’re a female.
• Catastrophic Bike Failure Scenario: You’re riding your trusty, steel-framed mountain bike — just riding along — when the darn thing cracks. For most people, that would be the end of the ride. But that’s because, unlike you, most people don’t carry the Big Air! welding torch attachment. Since you also carry multiple lenses for your glasses, you put the darkest ones on, turn the torch up nice and hot, and weld the sucker back together. Good as new.
• Catastrophic Injury Scenario: You’re doing extremely dangerous, technical moves deep in wilderness territory. A friend of yours tries a move he should never have attempted and breaks off his thumb. Yep, just breaks it clean off. Whoops. He’s bleeding all over the place; the band aids in your seat pack clearly aren’t going to do the trick. Luckily, you’ve got a Big Air! canister. First, you whack your screaming friend on the head with it to give him some blessed relief from conciousness, then put on the regular ol’ Microflate valve. Twist it out a half turn to start the gas flowing, flick a match, and cauterize the wound. Quick thinking, cowboy.
• Lost in the Wilderness Scenario: You’ve missed a turn a while back, and now you’ve been lost for two weeks. You’ve been having a good time, really, thanks to your Big Air! canisters, but now it’s time to go home. So, you take a spare tube out of your seat pack and over-inflate it with two Big Air! canisters. The next time a plane flies overhead, you take this tube and light it on fire. The resulting fireball catches the eye of the pilot, who alerts the authorities. The search and rescue team has no difficulty in finding you; they just follow the scent of singed hair.

In summary, I used to like Big Air! canisters. Now I think they’re the coolest thing in the world.

 

Banjo Brothers Bike Bag Giveaway Question

As your entry in today’s Banjo Brothers Seat Bag contest (their new website is now online, so you can pick between mini, small, medium and large), tell me your thoughts on filling your mountain biking tires with propane. For bonus points, tell me a cool new application you can think of for Big Air! cartridges. 

Well, it's about time I get a little respect.

I am, according to Technorati.com — a very accurate index of blogs — the #1 most authoritative blogger on bikes in the entire world.

And to think that until now, I just thought I was some dorky, middle-aged, overweight guy who wrote nonsense to himself.

Now I know better. Now I know I am Important. I capitalized and italicized "Important" on purpose, because I'm not just authoritative, I’m the most authoritative. I am, indeed, Authoritative with a capital "A."

To recap: I am Important and Authoritative.

But don't worry. I won't let this Importance go to my head. I still intend to communicate with the little people. In fact, to show how open and friendly I am — my Importance and Authoritativenessicity notwithstanding — I will, today, answer electronic mail from my adoring fans.

I want to be clear: while I have removed names and altered language so that I can continue to feel comfortable about my children reading this blog, these are real messages sent to me at my electronic mail address, which my publicist tells me is fatty@fatcyclist.com.

 

Letter #1: An Important Correction

Subject: I think that your estimate of the number of cyclists in the US is wrong

Message: I was reading your article regarding the potential Lance movie. Your estimate of only 6000 cyclists in the US cannot be even close. I marshal many events in the NYC metro area. At the MS Manhattan ride we typically have more than 5000 cyclists. At "Bike NY" we typically have more than 30,000 cyclists. I know that NYC is a large city, but 6000 cyclists in entire US??? I acknowledge that if you intended to say 600,000, that would still mean that the movie was playing to a very small audience.

However, 6000 is definitely not accurate.

—Stephen

The Fat Cyclist Replies: You're absolutely right, Stephen. I apologize. To refresh other readers' memory, I said, in my Important, Authoritative article Suggestions for the Lance Armstrong Movie, "There are only about 6,000 cyclists in America, Lance. And this statistic is no less alarming even when you take into consideration that I just made it up."

What I should have said is, "There are exactly 6,418 cyclists in America, Lance…." This would have better followed the first rule of bicycling comedy: "When being ridiculously absurd, be as specific as possible."

 

Letter #2: A Simple Miscommunication

Editor's note: I had to change a few words on this letter, which troubles me, since I'm afraid the letter loses a little of the "local color" feel it originally had. Changed words are indicated in purple.

Subject: Hey You big fat bussy

Message: You are a big girl. Grow a set of ANKLES. I use an old stuffed BMX to go to work. It’s about 30k and it’s all on dirt roads. It’s always hot and windy and there are millions of flies. At work I crush rock all day. All I eat is crap meat pies and drink crap beer. I ride barefoot with a torn pair of shorts. AND I’ve got a mate who runs it 30k to work every day barefoot. Don’t come to this country because we will make you wear a skirt, you big fat bussy.

—Some Aussie dude

The Fat Cyclist Replies: But you mean that in a really nice way, right, Aussie dude? Because, as you now know, I am an extremely Important, Authoritative bike blogger, and as such expect lots and lots of respect.

Beyond the friendly and supportive jests, Aussie dude, I appreciate the informative and interesting note. I have a few followup questions.

• With what is your old BMX bike stuffed? Why did you stuff it? Does the extra weight incurred by the stuffing slow it down?
• Does your mate run barefoot because he doesn't like shoes, or because he can't afford them? The people who read this (Important, Authoritative) blog have shown several times that they're willing to help a fellow human in need. Let us know if we can help.
• Do you eat and drink crap-derived products because you have no choice, or because you just really like crap?
• Why do you ride dirt roads to work, Aussie dude? It seems a real Australian would avoid roads altogether, sticking to rockslides and fields of broken glass.

Gee, that's all we have time for. Keep those letters coming! After all, while I personally am now far too Important and Authoritative to read them myself, my personal assistant tells me she really enjoys them.

With the dark and cold, most of my riding has taken the form of biking to work and back each day. This is a round trip of about 20 miles when I go the direct route, which I almost never do during the summer, and always do lately.

I figured, though, that while this amount of riding wouldn’t keep me in race condition, it would at least help me maintain a good base level of fitness.

Last Saturday, I found out I was wrong.

 

Oh, Now I Remember

Around 1:00pm, for the first time in more than a month — maybe more than two months — I got out on a three hour ride. I had meant to get out around noon, but I spent about an hour tweaking my bike, fine-tuning what I was going to wear, washing my glasses, and in general stalling. For some reason, I was having a little trouble getting motivated. A ride just didn’t sound like all that much fun.

It was only when I finally quit puttering around and started riding that I figured out what my problem was. I hadn’t wanted to go riding because I had been riding so long in the dark, with a heavy bike and heavily-loaded messenger bag (gotta carry more clothes during the winter), with several layers of bike clothes on, that I had begun to think that’s what riding a bike feels like.

It sounds obvious in retrospect, but with no fenders, no light setup, no bag, and just tights, a long-sleeved jersey and a windbreaker shell, biking sure feels a lot different. For the first time in quite a while, I wasn’t using my bike just as a vehicle. I was using it for fun.

It was nice to just be out on a ride.

 

No Pressure, No Plan

With no races in the immediate future, I had no real target for how long I would ride, or how far, or at what pace. I didn’t have a watch. I didn’t have a speedometer. I was just riding along.

I’d ride for a while on one road, and then — when I saw another road that looked like it had a bike lane or good wide shoulder — I’d turn and continue on. It wasn’t really exploring. It was more like meandering. But as I rode along, I did in fact start making connections. “Oh, you can get to this route by connecting along this street? Well, that’s interesting.” I think if I did more wandering like this, I maybe wouldn’t feel lost so often in this area I’ve now lived in for close to two years.

Each time I stopped, I’d try to do a trackstand. Nope, still no good at it.

 

Carb Boom: Preliminary Thumbs-Up

A few weeks ago, back when I was talking (and talking and talking) about energy gels, Niki of TucsonTriGirls said that I needed to try Carb Boom, her sponsoring gel. She sent me a nice sampler pack, and during the ride I tried the banana-peach pack. I don’t yet know how well Carb Boom works over the long haul, but I will say this: it was the best-tasting gel I have ever had. You can tell — both from the flavor and the texture of the gel — they use real fruit.

 

A Farewell to Fitness

By the time I got home, I was fully cooked. Yes, a three-hour, easy-level workout fried me. After a nice long shower to warm up my hands, nose, chest and feet, I dressed in sweats, with no intention of leaving the house again that day.

So as I laid on the floor, or the couch, or whatever other surface I could find that had some level of lay-down-ability, I wondered to myself:

• Have I really completely lost all my fitness in such a short time? I mean, I worked and worked and worked on it. And it’s not like I’ve stopped riding or anything. Three hours on the bike — especially three hours the way I was riding — shouldn’t wipe me out. But it did.
• Could it be that I just had a slow day? I mean, one of my kids has a cold. Maybe I’m coming down with something. No, that’s not it. I feel fine. I’m just slow.
• Maybe it’s because of the fixed gear bike. Riding a fixed gear bike requires a consistency of effort that you don’t get on a bike with a freewheel. You’re always working on the flats, are working harder on the climbs, and even have to work on the downhill. So maybe that’s part of why I’m tired. But it’s not the whole thing.
• Is this what it means to be working on “base fitness?” Maybe for the winter, this is exactly how I should be. I mean, at least I was able to go out and do a three-hour ride on a fixed gear bike in the middle of December. Maybe I should be happy with how I rode today. Or — more likely — I’m just a big puddle of goo that lost several months’ of fitness in a few short weeks.

Which of these is true? I don’t know. Probably some combo of all of them. Or maybe it’s none of them.

Am I the only one who’s watching his fitness go down the drain this time of year? Please, please tell me I’m not.

I’m begging you.

 

Bonus Blogging Excellence

In his Top 5 list today, Bob talks about how I cracked someone's noggin during one of the rare times I tried a team sport. It's a must-read, and is dead-on accurate, as near as I can tell. Click here.

Prologue
Back in mid-November, after reading about yet another doping scandal, I asked myself, "Is there even one clean pro cyclist out there?" Then it occurred to me that it would be really funny if there were, in fact, exactly one clean cyclist. That would be big news.

So I wrote the following little story for Cyclingnews. I thought it was one of my funniest pieces ever, and so did my wife. And so did Dug, but that's a different story. I was sure Cyclingnews would love it.

Cyclingnews rejected it.

So here's the whole thing, in its final draft. Yep, I wrote multiple drafts. Don't act shocked.

 

Professional Cyclist Returns Clean Blood Sample!

Elk Grove, Indiana, November 21 (Fat Cyclist Fake News Service) – The cycling world rejoiced today when WADA chief Dick Pound, in conjunction with Team Hoosier Directeur Sportif Stuart Talley, announced that heretofore unknown semi-professional cyclist Rick Maddox is — according to all currently available tests — clean.

“Rick Maddox is a bright beacon of hope to the world of professional cycling,” said Pound. “If it is possible for a cyclist in a small, non-funded, semi-professional regional team in a farm town in the Midwest to be clean, can the day when we claim total victory over illicit performance-enhancing substances be far off?”

“I am both humbled and honored,” added Mr. Talley, “to have Rick Maddox on our team. We believe that he has a great future as a non-doping cyclist, and hope to help him continue to be the pre-eminent non-doper in the cycling world.”

“I would like to make it clear,” Talley continued, “that the fact that there is no possible way we could afford EPO has nothing to do with why Maddox is clean.”

 

Science Community Weighs In

While it is still unclear to the general public how a professional cyclist is somehow not doping, Scientists and nutritionists from around the globe have been dispatched to study Maddox. Asked what he thought of this phenomenon, Dr. Richard P. Kelly, one of the world’s foremost nutritionists, responded, “I have long believed that if one trained, ate, and rested properly, it would be — theoretically — possible to race as a professional cyclist without doping. Here, at last, we have proof.”

Other scientists, however, remain skeptical. “Of course I am gladdened that Rick Maddox appears to not be doping,” said International Screening Association (ISA) representative Sammakko Miyasaki. “This, however, does not constitute final proof that Maddox has definitively not been doping. We believe the safest course of action is to — for the time being — refer to Mr. Maddox as an ‘alleged non-doper,’ until we have developed additional tests over the course of the next five years, which we shall then run on his current blood, saliva, and urine samples.” At that point, we believe we should be able to say, with 72% confidence, that Maddox either is or is not doping at this moment in time.”

“Also,” continued Miyasaki, “We’re going to need a lock of his hair, a 4-inch-square sample of his skin, and one of his kidneys for our tests. You know, just to be safe.”

 

Racers React

As one would expect, the tight-knit community of professional cyclists is abuzz with the news that one of their own is not doping.

As one would also expect, not a single one was willing to speak unless guaranteed anonymity.

“I am very, very happy for Mr. Maddox, who I have never heard of before today,” said one popular-but-currently-suspended professional cyclist, who (prior to his suspension) was well known for winning practically every stage he had ever raced in his professional career. “I wish him great success in the future as he races on the…the…excuse me, what team did you say he races on?”

A recently-retired racer, having raced a long and successful career without a single positive, also offered his congratulations to Maddox, but with a caution. “Don’t assume that just because you’re testing clean today means you’re going to test clean tomorrow, OK buddy? Basically, don’t count all your chickens ‘til they hatch. And believe me, some of them chickens can take a good long time to hatch. As in years.”

“Seriously, he tested clean?” asked a third racer, who is currently fighting 29 separate charges of doping. “For everything? Is that even statistically possible?”

“By the way,” added this racer, as he sat glumly on the steps of the courthouse, where he will likely spend the rest of his adult life, hastily, “I’m clean, too.”

 

How He Did It

As one would expect, the public — not to mention professional cyclists everywhere —want to know how Maddox managed to test clean. “Well, mostly it’s been easy, because as a racer outside the limelight, I can barely afford to keep my bike maintained, and the tips I get for waiting restaraunts don’t exactly cover $800-per-syringe designer drugs,” admitted Maddox.

“Plus, one day I had an idea: what if I just race, and don’t start doping?’ I know that sounds naïve, but I figured I’d give it a shot. And, well, here I am.”

“Also,” continued Maddox, “I never take cold medicine, or any other medicine for that matter. And I don’t eat cold cereal — have you seen the ingredients lists for that stuff? I wouldn’t be surprised if something in those boxes registered on one of the eight or nine new tests they’re coming out with every week.”

“Also, I stay away from soda. And processed cheese. And I don’t use deodorant unless it’s been approved by Johan Bruyneel himself.”

“And, finally, I cycle my blood through a special chimera-removing dialysis machine on a thrice-weekly basis.”

“You know, regular stuff like that.”

 

Future Looks Bright

Reached for comment, incoming Tour de France Race Director Christian Prudhomme said, “I wish to personally congratulate Mr. Maddox, who will be — by default — declared the winner of the 2006 Tour de France in a special ceremony this July.”

Continued Prudhomme, “This ceremony will last for the three weeks during which we would have otherwise held the race, if we could have found any other clean riders.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In one hour and ten minutes, I will post whatever it is I’m about to write. Then I’ll read it online and make a couple edits: usually adding a parenthetical joke or two, usually adding a few paragraph breaks.

Then I’ll get on my bike and ride to work.

The truth is, at this moment I’d prefer to drive to work. It’s cold, dark, and raining outside, and it’d be nice to just say, “forget it, I’m driving” today.

But I’m going to ride, because I don’t have a Perfectly Good Excuse for not.

 

The Importance of Excuses

Really, I’m a little bit embarrassed that I don’t have a good excuse for not riding today. In the past, I’ve generally been able to come up with something that sounds pretty convincing whenever I needed it.

Why do I need an excuse at all? A couple reasons:

• Others: I’m noticing, as winter progresses, that an increasing number of people at work are asking me whether I biked in each day. (I’m beginning to suspect that an office pool has been started on when I’ll stop.) If I don’t ride in, I need to have a reason why I drove, or they’ll think I’ve given up. Somehow, if I give these people a good, compelling explanation of why I didn’t bike that day, I expect I’ll still get credit for being a cyclist. Now that I articulate that thought, I realize how completely boneheaded it is.
• Myself: More than convincing others that I’d be biking if — darn it! — I didn’t have this Perfectly Good Excuse I cooked up, I need to convince myself. This allows me to be a slacker without being a quitter.

The Anatomy of a Good Excuse

So, in order to avoid the dilemma I find myself today — riding into work when I feel more like hibernating than exercising — I need to replenish my stock of Perfectly Good Excuses.

This is not as easy as it seems, because an excuse is nothing but an excuse unless it meets the rigorous entrance criteria necessary to become a Perfectly Good Excuse. These are:

• It must be unique: An excuse that you have used within the past several days is no good. If you use the same excuse frequently or two days in a row, people will think you are just too lazy to fix the problem.
• It must seem to have caught you unawares: The excuse needs to be something that came out of left field. If you knew it was coming, you could have probably planned for it and found a way to ride in anyway.
• It must be convincing: The excuse must be good enough that the person you are using the excuse on agrees: he or she would also not ride into work under those circumstances.
• You must sorta-kinda even believe it yourself: This is the tough one. If you know that your excuse is an outright fabrication, you’re not going to have much luck making yourself believe it’s true. You need to have a component of truth (no matter how small) in your excuse.

Perfectly Good Excuses Under Consideration

In order to avoid finding myself in today’s dilemma — biking into work when I really just want to go back to bed — I am currently developing a new stockpile of Perfectly Good Excuses. They are:

• General Achiness / Approaching Illness: I don’t ever feel great first thing in the morning. In fact, if I went strictly by how I feel about the world in general when I first get up, I could probably make a case for calling in sick on any given day. The thing is, though, I know that this “blugh” feeling (a medical term) passes on its own within about five minutes, and I’m not very good at nursing it into a sense of impending illness. Plus, there’s the problem of my theory that when you feel sick, a ride is more likely to cure it than make it worse.
• Can’t Find My Helmet / Shoes: This is actually a really good one; there’s no way I’m going biking without my bike shoes or helmet. And with the forgetfulness that seems to be accompanying middle age, this is an easy one to pull off, too. It just takes a little planning. If I put my helmet or shoes down anywhere besides the space I have reserved for them in the garage, I will not be able to locate them the next time I want them.
• Broken Bike or Part: As long as you’ve got only one bike, this one’s bulletproof. It’s been a long time since I have had no serviceable bikes, though.
• Need My Car: This is a good one — if you’ve got to go pick someone up at the airport during the day, there’s nothing you can really do about it; you’ve got to drive in. The problem is, these excuses generally don’t coincide with days I don’t feel like biking. In fact, they seem to most often happen on days that a ride sounds really, really good.
• Rest Day to Avoid Overtraining: Oh, this is a fine one indeed. Not only does it give you a reason to skip riding that day, it carries an implied boast: “I skipped riding today because I am so fit it’s dangerous.” (Interesting note: did you know that “overtraining” is something that only very few pro-level athletes are even capable of? 99% of the people in the world couldn’t overtrain even if it was their fondest desire.)
• Weather: Since most people won’t ride their bikes if it even looks like it might rain, you can almost always use the weather as an excuse. The problem is, the weather is a slippery slope. If you use it as an excuse today when it’s drizzling, you’ll wind up using it tomorrow when it’s raining again. Soon, the season’s over, and all that’s happened is you’ve become an expert on rain. (It’s entirely possible I’m fixating on rain for some reason. I wonder what that reason could be.)

PS: The Snowman Theme Continues

Yesterday I posted the game my 12-yr-old and I worked on over the weekend. Earlier that week, the rest of the kids were making real snowmen.

 

The twins (4 years old) with their snowpeople

 

The 10-yr-old, with his "Snowfa"

Oh, this is such a cheap gimmick. Yesterday I talk about how much I hate riding in the cold, and now today I’m talking about how much I like riding in the cold. Ooooh, what an interesting contradiction! Clearly, it’s Amateur Literary Trick day at the Fat Cyclist blog.

So let me explain.

I rode my bike home yesterday after work. It was no longer snowing, but there were very few cars out. It was incredibly quiet and dark out as I rode through Marymoor Park. Luckily, there wasn’t much snow sticking to the road, and I could avoid that by riding closer to the center of the road than usual.

It was quiet. It was dark. It was cold. And the air felt sharp and clean against the back of my throat; it tasted great.

 

Fog Machine

As I rode up Inglewood Hill, I stood up, breathing hard. The fog from my mouth would go right into  the beam of my handlebar-mounted lights, and make a really cool, brightly illuminated cloud. I found myself blowing out further out into the beam, experimenting with how impressive of a light show I could put on. And for the first time ever, I forgot that I was climbing Inglewood Hill.

 

Sledding

I stand by what I said yesterday: it’s a pain to get ready to ride in the cold. Once you’re out, though, it can be fun. In fact, one of the most memorable rides I’ve ever been on was in the snow. Rick Maddox and I took part of a day off from work to go ride up Squaw Peak in the middle of the winter. This four mile road is a brutally steep road bike workout in the summer, but it’s a snowmobiler’s and sledder’s paradise in the winter.

So Rick and I decided to find out whether we could bike it.

By letting practically all the air out of our tires to increase the size of our contact patches, we were able to — mostly — ride up. The trick was to stay in the most recent snowmobile tracks. It was slow going, but we warmed up soon; riding a steep climb with no air pressure in soft-packed snow is quite a workout. About three miles up, we ran out of snowmobile tracks to follow. It was time to turn around.

And thus began the goofiest three-mile descent of our lives.

We experimented with putting our weight forward to give us better steering and keeping out weight back to avoid auguring in. I think we finally decided on a balance in the middle. It didn’t really matter; at pretty much every turn one or both of us would wipe out, often into the other.

The thing is, though, wiping out on a bike is a lot of fun when it’s penalty-free. The snow was so forgiving and banked so high we could practice our snow mountain biking skills without fear. We’d ride for a few seconds, fishtail around a corner (or, more accurately, failing to make it around a corner), and wipe out, often with a little flourish to make it look good.

As we got closer to the bottom of the hill, we started coming across kids and parents on sleds. They stared at us openly. What were mountain bikers doing coming down this hill? We were too strange to be real. Rick and I kept riding, laughing and wiping out.

 

PS: Let’s Outfit Tayfur and Friends

Tayfur, the winner of yesterday’s bike bag, lives in Turkey. He loves bikes as much as any of us, but doesn’t have a lot of good cycling clothes. He tells me, in fact, that he knows of quite a few riders in his area who could use some good cycling clothes. So how about we help Tayfur and friends out.

Let’s send Tayfur our good unused bike clothes — shorts, jerseys, jackets, vests, gloves, socks, you name it. He’ll take what fits him, and distribute what doesn’t. Everybody wins.

How to do it

Just email me. If you want to send your stuff direct, I’ll give you his address. If you want to combine your stuff with a big package I’m putting together, I’ll give you my address. To keep things from being too obvious and therefore getting “lost” in customs, Tayfur recommends we send relatively small boxes. So if you don’t mind sending stuff yourself, that’d be great. Meaning, I’m OK with some out-of-pocket here, but I don’t want this to clean me out.

I don’t know about you, but I love the idea of a bunch of these jerseys I don’t use finding their way onto some cyclists’ backs.

Three seasons out of the year, I love to get on my bike. But winter — by which I mean "the cold part of fall, all of winter, and the cold part of spring" — just sucks.

I'm sorry. I'm trying to have a positive attitude. Really. And I'm not saying I'm going to quit riding during the winter. I'm not. I plan to bundle up, layer upon layer, twice a day and bike into work on the icy roads, in the dark, in the blowing snow and /or freezing rain, with the bulk of clothing restricting me to the extent that I can barely turn my head, much less the cranks.

Sorry. I guess my attitude slipped again. It's just that winter somehow takes one of the things I like best in the whole world — a light, fast, spontaneous, free adventure I can have every day — and turns it into a heavy, preparation-laden, sluggish, uncomfortable slog.

Before I continue, I should point out that anyone who leaves a bracing pep talk in the comment section today will be met with a snort of ridicule and a rolling of the eyes. Do we understand each other? Fine. Let's move on.

 

Getting Started

Through most of the year, dressing for a ride is the simplest thing in the world. Shorts, jersey, socks, shoes, helmet, glasses, gloves. In that order (for me, at least). Let's roll.

In the winter, though, it's more like:

• Look outside. Is it snowing? Raining? Is there ice on the road?
• Go outside, try to get a sense of the temperature and whether it's going to get warmer. Look at the clouds, trying to decide — if it's not raining now — whether it will be soon.
• Go back inside. Based on how cold and dark it is, ponder whether you really are all that committed to this idea of biking anyway. I mean, seriously. Wouldn't it be nice to drive in today? You could listen to NPR — haven't had much time for the news lately, it'd be good to catch up — and be all nice and warm when you get to work.
• Banish demons. You're going to ride.
• Put on base layer.
• Put on wool socks.
• Put on more wool socks.
• Put on tights.
• Put on heavy jersey.
• Put on shoes.
• Put on shoe covers.
• Put on jacket.
• Put on gloves.
• Put on more gloves.
• Put on helmet.
• Put on glasses.
• Put on headband ear warmer jobby that muffles all sound and screws with your peripheral vision and in general makes you feel like you're now in much greater danger of a collision.
• Ask yourself, "Is there any possible way that any possible ride could be worth all the effort I just went through?"

 

Riding

When you ride in the cold, every breath hurts. And then your eyes start to water. And then the water running down your eyes starts to freeze.

Your face stops reacting properly. Your ears hurt. Your toes hurt…and then they stop hurting, because they've gone numb.

It doesn’t stay this bad, though. After a while, you warm up a little. You stop scrunching your face up to see whether it works, because you've come to accept that it doesn't. Your legs warm up almost no matter how cold it is, because they're working so hard. Apart from your nose, ears, toes, and fingers, biking's fun again.

And that's when you come to a stoplight.

 

Stopping

As soon as you stop, your glasses fog. And then the nice little sweat you've worked up —evidence that you were finally starting to warm up — becomes instantly clammy. Time slows down. You start to shiver.

Ordinarily, I love looking into cars from my bike while I'm stopped at a light. I put on this smug little smile that says, "I'm going somewhere, just like you, but I'm exercising and having fun while I'm doing it. I am clearly smarter than you." When it's cold, I look into those cars and can't muster a smile. Car occupants, on the other hand, seem to have a smile for this occasion. It's the smile that says, "I'm warm in my car and you're cold on a bike, so you're clearly as dumb as a bar of soap."

 

Afterward

When it's warm, I often finish a ride wishing for more. I do not believe I have ever had such a wish when finishing a ride in the cold. Instead, I come inside and stand in the shower until the hot water runs out or the feeling comes back into my toes: whichever occurs first.

 

Oh, I've Got Cold Credibility

I'm almost sure some of you are thinking, "Fatty is such a nancy-boy. What does he know about cold?" Well, I lived for Finland for two years, and rode a bike as my main mode of transportation during the winter for each of those two years. Also, I grew up at above 8,000 feet in a little town in Colorado. It frequently had the lowest temperatures in the nation, including Alaska. So, yes: I know a thing or two about living and riding in the cold.

And I'd rather ride when it's warm.

 

PS: It's snowing right now. You think I should ride my bike home today, or bail out and get a ride? Your opinion carries more weight if you either are facing the same question right now. If you are in Australia, your opinion carries no weight whatsoever.

 

PPS: The winner of yesterday's contest is Tayfur Yagci of Turkey. The fact that he's racing with what he's got impresses me no end. Here's what Tayfur had to say:

 

I have one simple recommendation for all that stuff: Give some to me! I especially need: A long sleeve jersey, some good socks, a windstopper jacket.

So you want me to impress you? I don't know if I can but here goes: I only have two items of bicycle clothing: A no-name tights and a t-shirt with the name of a local MTB team on it. (Pitbull MTB Racing) Thats all I have. Ok, I have other stuff I can wear but they aren't bicycle clothes. A pair of old jeans or a worn out wool sweater don't exactly count as cycling apparel. So that's all I have.

 

I'll tell you what, Tayfur. If you're serious about wanting some used bike clothes, email me; let's figure something out.