Super Bowl Sunday came a couple of weeks ago and I found myself in Frankfort, visiting my in-laws. My mother-in-law's birthday was a couple of days before and we had gone there on the weekend to take her out to dinner.
The days leading up to our trip, I had been looking at the weather and seeing that the weather in Kentucky was going to be picture-perfect the entire weekend, which would be great for riding, except that I was going to be out of town.
The natural solution, of course, would be to take my bike with me, but my truck was out of commission at the time due to a busted transmission, and we were making the trip in my wife's Neon. Undeterred. I decided to make a go of it any way, laying our suitcase in the trunk, then placing my bike in the trunk over top of it, back wheel first, leaving the front wheel and handlebars hanging out the back. With a short piece of rope, I then tied the trunk door down firmly against the bike, and we were off.
I was excited about riding in Frankfort. First, the weather looked to be great, and I looked forward to spending a few hours outside, zipping through the streets. Secondly, though, I live in the Appalachian foothills, which can make for some challenging riding, but Frankfort is flat, in comparison. Sure, the Kentucky River cuts a mean gash through the center of the city, but my intention was to avoid that, saving my power for riding for as long as possible. My hope was to finally ride my first half-century. I flirted with the idea of riding to Lawrenceburg, or maybe braving a trip across the river valley to go to Lexington.
It was not to be. I did manage to go on a ride that day, but I found the terrain to be a lot tougher than I anticipated, and I ended up doing my usual 20 miles before I was completely wiped out.
For one, the outskirts of Frankfort, sans river valley, are nothing but rolling hills, an undulating landscape of long climbs and too-short descents. A more experienced rider, perhaps, would have no trouble navigating the terrain, but as I've mentioned before, I'm not that experienced.
For one, this was my first serious attempt at a ride following a winter of limited riding, and my conditioning, never that great to begin with, had fallen off some from its peak back in October. Second, my bike and my build make any ride more challenging for me than they are for these skinny little guys on their skinny little bikes, who are the stereotype of a cyclist.
This is tough for me. Sometimes, back in the summer when another rider would zip past me while I was chugging along, I would get discouraged. Here I was, giving it all I had and managing to only average 11 or 12 mph, while they were breezing along at 20 or more. Or I would picking up a cycling magazine and read about guys averaging 25 mph and knocking out 100-mile trips in an afternoon.
The discouraging part is that I want to be like those guys, yet I'm nowhere near. So I have to constantly remind myself that it will take some time before I get there. I try to remember that I'm carrying 50 or 100 lbs. more on my body, and I tell myself that they probably couldn't do as well as I'm doing if they were carrying the equivalent of a elementary-school child on their backs.
Someday soon, I'll get to the fitness level I want, though not as soon as I would like (which is now). But to get there, I will have to lose weight and put in the miles.
Below is a map of my ride around Frankfort. One thing you'll notice is that there are a lot of stops and starts along my journey, an indication of where I first attempted to go one way, then thought better of it. And while I was expecting my ride through Frankfort to be easier than that to which I'm accustomed, in many ways it was tougher. Sure, the hills are not quite as severe as some I encounter back in Prestonsburg or Paintsville, but they're constant. I flew over the first few, as I expected I would, but after five miles or so, they started to take their toll. I would work to get to the top of the hill, and then once I did, the descent afterwards would be over much too quick before I was chugging uphill once again. As a result, the entire ride felt like it was one constant uphill climb.
All in all, though, it wasn't a bad ride, and it's one I will look forward to tackling again ... once I'm in a little better shape.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Friday, February 8, 2008
Intro
Where to begin?
Well, let me start by saying that, just because I'm writing about my experiences on my bike, this site should in no way be considered any sort of expert commentary on cycling or fitness or, really, anything at all. If anything, it's the exact opposite.
That being said, what I hope to accomplish with this blog is to share my learning experiences and maybe help someone like me, who finds himself or herself stumbling into this vast world of cycling without a clue of how to proceed. I will share what I learn and, perhaps more importantly, share the mistakes I've made to prevent others from doing the same.
Hopefully, this will eventually become a two-way street and others who stumble upon this page will share their advice. I have no problem admitting that I have a lot to learn, and I appreciate any and all comments.
Anyway, I began cycling like most people -- as a child. From the time I was in first grade and Santa brought me my first "Evel Knievel" bicycle, I probably spent most of my waking hours on my bike, and had no problem riding across town to get to an arcade or a friend's house.
And, like most people, I gave it up when I got my driver's license. Cars were cool and bikes were for little kids.
Fast-forward 22 years to May 2007. I had just "celebrated" my 38th birthday and I was miserable. I had become a middle-aged and overweight desk jockey, but at least I had finally managed to quit smoking in October 1, 2006 -- after 20 years. A stop at one of those blood pressure machines in my local Wal-Mart confirmed the toll my years of sedentary living had taken: My blood pressure had begun to push the upper limits of pre-hypertension, and my resting heart rate had climbed to 90. That was bad enough, but then I stepped on the scales and found that my weight had reached 280, and I knew that I would be celebrating my 40th birthday at 300 pounds if I didn't do something.
As a husband and father of two, I knew I was cheating my family out of being the best possible me I could be, and that I wouldn't be around for them as long as I could be. But all the other times I had attempted to start exercising had all turned out the same way -- a few half-hearted attempts, followed by abandonment.
Around that time, I was watching TV and heard someone give the advice that the key to a successful fitness program is to find something that you love to do. Hearing that, something clicked and I remembered all the days of my childhood spent on a bicycle. I had bought a stationary bike a couple of years before, but that lasted about a month because it was just too boring. A "real" bike, on the other hand ...
On a whim, I went to Wal-Mart and plunked down $170 on a 26-inch Mongoose. At the time, I thought it was going to be a good bike, and I'm sure it's fine for certain uses, but it's not quite the bike I need. Regardless, I still have it and still ride it -- until I get a chance to buy a better one.
Anyway, I hopped on my bike the first, fully intent on riding all over two counties. The reality of the level of the physical fitness, however, quickly dispelled that notion. My first ride ended up totaling under a mile, with slight, gradual inclines kicking my butt.
And so it began. I managed to make a couple of other very short rides before finally completing a two-mile ride. The next time I went three miles. The next time, five. Within a week, I was riding seven miles, three times a week, and two weeks later I was up to 10 miles a ride. By July, I was doing two 10-mile rides during the week, capped off by a 20-mile ride on the weekends.
Now, I'm fully aware that riding 40 miles a week isn't quite awe-inspiring. And despite my desire to go on some of these "century" and "half-century" rides I've been reading about, the fact is that I can only go 21 or 22 miles before I reach a wall that I've just not been able to get past.
Part of the reason for this, I think, is because I had let myself get into such terrible shape before I started riding. Like I said, my first ride ended up being less than a mile, maybe just half a mile actually, but afterwards I collapsed on my bed for about 20 minutes. Twenty years of smoking, nonstop eating and being a desk jockey will do that to a person.
And then came winter. Just as I was starting to get into shape a little bit, I've had to cut way back on the amount of riding I do because of the weather, which limits the times I can ride on the weekends, and because of the earlier nightfall, which rules out rides during the week because I refuse to ride my bike in the dark. So, whereas I was doing 40 miles a week back in the summer and fall, I only averaged 40 miles a month in November, December and January. That's not enough for me get in shape, and probably just barely enough to keep me from slipping back in the shape I was in.
However, despite my limited endurance so far, there is plenty of evidence that I'm making progress. For one, my heart is healthier now than it's been in awhile. Before I started riding, my blood pressure was 130/90. Today it's 175/78. It could be better, but at least it's now fallen to the upper range of "normal." My resting heart rate has shown dramatic improvement, falling from 90 to somewhere around 55-60. (One time it actually measured 50, but I must have been in a particularly blissful zen state that day.)
My weight, on the other hand, hasn't moved so much. The first month, I dropped 10 pounds, which was the extra weight I had put on after I quit smoking, but then I lost nothing more for months. Part of the reason for that, I think, is that, while I have shed a couple of inches around my waist and can tell a marked difference in my belly and face, I've also gained muscle in my legs. Today I'm down to 265, which is only a loss of 15 pounds. Ideally, I would like to get down to somewhere between 190 and 210, which means I'll have to pull a lot more miles on the road and a lot fewer forks to my mouth.
Plus, I'm thinking that my current bike is playing somewhat of a role in my limitations. I wanted the big mountain bike when I first started because it just seemed safer. What I didn't know at the time is that they are much, much slower and a lot more work. I currently have my eye on a hybrid (this one, in particular), which I had hoped to buy with my tax money, but an unanticipated $1,800 in car repairs has me rethinking that plan until after that tax rebate comes.
Anyway, that's a summary of where I've been, where I am now and, hopefully, where I'm going. I hope that sharing this journey will be helpful to anyone looking to start a healthier life. And just maybe it will provide some motivation for me, now that I'll feel pressure to perform for my audience.
Until next time, keep pedaling.
Well, let me start by saying that, just because I'm writing about my experiences on my bike, this site should in no way be considered any sort of expert commentary on cycling or fitness or, really, anything at all. If anything, it's the exact opposite.
That being said, what I hope to accomplish with this blog is to share my learning experiences and maybe help someone like me, who finds himself or herself stumbling into this vast world of cycling without a clue of how to proceed. I will share what I learn and, perhaps more importantly, share the mistakes I've made to prevent others from doing the same.
Hopefully, this will eventually become a two-way street and others who stumble upon this page will share their advice. I have no problem admitting that I have a lot to learn, and I appreciate any and all comments.
Anyway, I began cycling like most people -- as a child. From the time I was in first grade and Santa brought me my first "Evel Knievel" bicycle, I probably spent most of my waking hours on my bike, and had no problem riding across town to get to an arcade or a friend's house.
And, like most people, I gave it up when I got my driver's license. Cars were cool and bikes were for little kids.
Fast-forward 22 years to May 2007. I had just "celebrated" my 38th birthday and I was miserable. I had become a middle-aged and overweight desk jockey, but at least I had finally managed to quit smoking in October 1, 2006 -- after 20 years. A stop at one of those blood pressure machines in my local Wal-Mart confirmed the toll my years of sedentary living had taken: My blood pressure had begun to push the upper limits of pre-hypertension, and my resting heart rate had climbed to 90. That was bad enough, but then I stepped on the scales and found that my weight had reached 280, and I knew that I would be celebrating my 40th birthday at 300 pounds if I didn't do something.
As a husband and father of two, I knew I was cheating my family out of being the best possible me I could be, and that I wouldn't be around for them as long as I could be. But all the other times I had attempted to start exercising had all turned out the same way -- a few half-hearted attempts, followed by abandonment.
Around that time, I was watching TV and heard someone give the advice that the key to a successful fitness program is to find something that you love to do. Hearing that, something clicked and I remembered all the days of my childhood spent on a bicycle. I had bought a stationary bike a couple of years before, but that lasted about a month because it was just too boring. A "real" bike, on the other hand ...
On a whim, I went to Wal-Mart and plunked down $170 on a 26-inch Mongoose. At the time, I thought it was going to be a good bike, and I'm sure it's fine for certain uses, but it's not quite the bike I need. Regardless, I still have it and still ride it -- until I get a chance to buy a better one.
Anyway, I hopped on my bike the first, fully intent on riding all over two counties. The reality of the level of the physical fitness, however, quickly dispelled that notion. My first ride ended up totaling under a mile, with slight, gradual inclines kicking my butt.
And so it began. I managed to make a couple of other very short rides before finally completing a two-mile ride. The next time I went three miles. The next time, five. Within a week, I was riding seven miles, three times a week, and two weeks later I was up to 10 miles a ride. By July, I was doing two 10-mile rides during the week, capped off by a 20-mile ride on the weekends.
Now, I'm fully aware that riding 40 miles a week isn't quite awe-inspiring. And despite my desire to go on some of these "century" and "half-century" rides I've been reading about, the fact is that I can only go 21 or 22 miles before I reach a wall that I've just not been able to get past.
Part of the reason for this, I think, is because I had let myself get into such terrible shape before I started riding. Like I said, my first ride ended up being less than a mile, maybe just half a mile actually, but afterwards I collapsed on my bed for about 20 minutes. Twenty years of smoking, nonstop eating and being a desk jockey will do that to a person.
And then came winter. Just as I was starting to get into shape a little bit, I've had to cut way back on the amount of riding I do because of the weather, which limits the times I can ride on the weekends, and because of the earlier nightfall, which rules out rides during the week because I refuse to ride my bike in the dark. So, whereas I was doing 40 miles a week back in the summer and fall, I only averaged 40 miles a month in November, December and January. That's not enough for me get in shape, and probably just barely enough to keep me from slipping back in the shape I was in.
However, despite my limited endurance so far, there is plenty of evidence that I'm making progress. For one, my heart is healthier now than it's been in awhile. Before I started riding, my blood pressure was 130/90. Today it's 175/78. It could be better, but at least it's now fallen to the upper range of "normal." My resting heart rate has shown dramatic improvement, falling from 90 to somewhere around 55-60. (One time it actually measured 50, but I must have been in a particularly blissful zen state that day.)
My weight, on the other hand, hasn't moved so much. The first month, I dropped 10 pounds, which was the extra weight I had put on after I quit smoking, but then I lost nothing more for months. Part of the reason for that, I think, is that, while I have shed a couple of inches around my waist and can tell a marked difference in my belly and face, I've also gained muscle in my legs. Today I'm down to 265, which is only a loss of 15 pounds. Ideally, I would like to get down to somewhere between 190 and 210, which means I'll have to pull a lot more miles on the road and a lot fewer forks to my mouth.
Plus, I'm thinking that my current bike is playing somewhat of a role in my limitations. I wanted the big mountain bike when I first started because it just seemed safer. What I didn't know at the time is that they are much, much slower and a lot more work. I currently have my eye on a hybrid (this one, in particular), which I had hoped to buy with my tax money, but an unanticipated $1,800 in car repairs has me rethinking that plan until after that tax rebate comes.
Anyway, that's a summary of where I've been, where I am now and, hopefully, where I'm going. I hope that sharing this journey will be helpful to anyone looking to start a healthier life. And just maybe it will provide some motivation for me, now that I'll feel pressure to perform for my audience.
Until next time, keep pedaling.
Two of my routine summer rides
Here are the two rides I did the most during the summer and fall. The first is almost nine miles, which I do after work a couple of times a week. The second is nearly 20 miles, which I do on the weekends.
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