"Time falls away." I love the idea of time ceasing to matter. I am so much happier living experience-to-experience than moment-to-moment. I love what it does to the people around me. Whether they know it or not you can almost see the weight of family responsibilities and the ever-present schedule lift off of them. Faces relax. Smiles come easier. The body loses its rigidity and accepts the comfort of a cushion. Silliness and banter arrive in a clown car. As a corollary, people who can't relax make me nervous. I see them as a rubberband twisted in on itself. When will it release, and will it be gentle or violent?
Part of my mind was turning this over while thinking about my ride last night. It extended well beyond dark because I simply did not concern myself with what time it was. Unfortunately, I didn't take any lights, or reflective gear of any kind so that was kind of dumb. Obviously, I became a lot more cautious and turned all of my senses on high to protect myself, but also to protect the gentle soul that might be taking a late night stroll on the bike path (I managed to get off the roads before full dark.). So I made noise, singing into the dark, or calling out "irresponsible mountain biker on your left!" as I cautiously approached a group of moving shapes, only discernable because of the light they blocked. It worked, and I got home safe without so much as a single close call or frightened pedestrian. I did get one terse "yes, you are" from a cyclist using a headlight when I announced my careless presence. Oh well, my apologies. I am thankful, not emboldened, that I am home safe.
Quick tech note: my rides are beginning to routinely exceed the battery capacity of the iPhone + Strava. Either I need to go old school using a map and a clock, get a separate GPS, or get creative.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Setting my own rules
So I'm just spit-balling here but I've been turning over the idea of "mental assistance" while racing the GDMBR and I thought I'd throw it out to the blogosphere for comment. I keep going back to the line in Rule #2 (http://tourdivide.org/the_rules) that states "the intent is to ride unsupported between towns and function self-supported when in towns." I will likely be taking my iPhone as it is unsurpassed for functionality versus weight though battery life is a challenge. Of course, smartphones provide ample mental distraction in the form of entertainment, race information, and a lifeline to friends and family. In the context of the race, this is bad. I think I've settled on the following guidelines for my attempt next year.
1. No phone calls (except emergencies) while on the trail assuming there is coverage.
2. No web browsing on the phone AT ALL.
3. While on the trail under non-emergency conditions, the phone may only be used for a GPS, camera, and notepad (text or voice).
4. Phone calls may be placed from the iPhone while in town. Any discussion of the race should be limited to the details of my effort and experiences.
5. No blue-dot watching AT ALL including the bikepacking.net forums (or similar).
6. Entertainment (music, movie, book, or audiobook, etc.) is permissible while in town or bivy.
7. I am still undecided about weather apps.
My goal here is to minimize the influence of external factors on my decision-making and overall effort. There is no doubt that hearing the voices of my wife and daughter will raise my spirits and knowing how much they will have sacrificed to allow me this chance will undoubtedly push me on so that has to be limited somehow. The rest of the motivation needs to come from my head and its reaction to my immediate situation. I am definitely leaning more monk than rockstar which fits my personality as I'm fairly introverted. In conclusion, I want to make clear that I'm trying to decide what will work for me and no one else. I certainly wouldn't want anyone telling me how to race if I already thought I was following the rules.
1. No phone calls (except emergencies) while on the trail assuming there is coverage.
2. No web browsing on the phone AT ALL.
3. While on the trail under non-emergency conditions, the phone may only be used for a GPS, camera, and notepad (text or voice).
4. Phone calls may be placed from the iPhone while in town. Any discussion of the race should be limited to the details of my effort and experiences.
5. No blue-dot watching AT ALL including the bikepacking.net forums (or similar).
6. Entertainment (music, movie, book, or audiobook, etc.) is permissible while in town or bivy.
7. I am still undecided about weather apps.
My goal here is to minimize the influence of external factors on my decision-making and overall effort. There is no doubt that hearing the voices of my wife and daughter will raise my spirits and knowing how much they will have sacrificed to allow me this chance will undoubtedly push me on so that has to be limited somehow. The rest of the motivation needs to come from my head and its reaction to my immediate situation. I am definitely leaning more monk than rockstar which fits my personality as I'm fairly introverted. In conclusion, I want to make clear that I'm trying to decide what will work for me and no one else. I certainly wouldn't want anyone telling me how to race if I already thought I was following the rules.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Beauty, in all its forms
So I'm a little sore and a lot sunburned. Yesterday's ride was beautiful on a lot of levels. The unpaved stretch of the Heart of Ohio trail is a hidden, peaceful ride from Centerburg to Mt. Vernon. Route 205 north of Danville runs through Amish country, and I saw more than a few families out in their horse-drawn buggies. I have a lot of respect for the Amish way of life, and maybe I'm a little jealous. I don't think I could adopt that lifestyle though there's no question I'd know what I accomplished on a daily basis. I think a lot of the satifaction in life derives from that one simple thing, but is it enough? It seems that our modern, technology-driven, stock market-centric world hinges on the oasis mentality. We can slog through as long as we get the occasional long weekend or a two-week vacation. What a bleak way to live. I wonder if it's possible to adopt more of the Amish work ethic in a complex economy where most work is far removed from the end product. I guess in the meantime I'll keep riding the bike. There's no doubt I can measure what I accomplished yesterday.
On a separate note, my heart goes out to all the people of Aurora. Nothing can replace the loss of a loved one. Maybe someday we will better understand the fragile people that are so ill-equipped to deal with life that when expectation does not meet reality they harm themselves or others.
On a separate note, my heart goes out to all the people of Aurora. Nothing can replace the loss of a loved one. Maybe someday we will better understand the fragile people that are so ill-equipped to deal with life that when expectation does not meet reality they harm themselves or others.
The obligatory introspective post
Originally composed 7/17/12:
"Listen to your own heart beating," fine advice from the man who gave us Danger Zone and Footloose. Standing on the doorstep of 43, I am attempting to be intentional in my actions. The why matters. "Because it feels good" is no longer sufficient. The instant gratification that I have lived most of my life by is failing to make me happy. In fact, it is having the opposite effect. Then a remarkable thing happened. My decision to race the Great Divide flipped a switch in my head. All of the fragments that seemed to define a life well-lived snapped into place like metal shavings lining up for a magnet. It's hard to overstate the difference. Soda and snacking has been a fixture in my life. Soda is gone. I still snack but I give some thought as to why I want to eat and what I am going to eat. Obviously, the bottom line for now is weight. As of today, I weigh 252.4. I started at 281 on May 6th. I have been using a spreadsheet to track progress so that I don't overemphasize recent results and lose motivation as I am wont to do. At this pace, I will go below 200 pounds sometime in January...for the first time in seventeen years. 186 is still the goal.
Regarding the bike, I definitely need wider handlebars and more comfortable grips. Ergon seems to be universally loved. Getting lighter will help my hands some, but for six or seven hours in the saddle I need the ergonomics. If all goes well, I'll do a century on the road bike on July 28. The next challenge will be a 120-mile "Gran Fondo" on September 2 on the mountain bike. Then a 400-mile multi-day in Virginia beginning October 20 will give me a chance to sort out the kit. Which reminds me that I need to get busy on any DIY pieces of the kit, so it can be thoroughly tested. So much to do.
"Listen to your own heart beating," fine advice from the man who gave us Danger Zone and Footloose. Standing on the doorstep of 43, I am attempting to be intentional in my actions. The why matters. "Because it feels good" is no longer sufficient. The instant gratification that I have lived most of my life by is failing to make me happy. In fact, it is having the opposite effect. Then a remarkable thing happened. My decision to race the Great Divide flipped a switch in my head. All of the fragments that seemed to define a life well-lived snapped into place like metal shavings lining up for a magnet. It's hard to overstate the difference. Soda and snacking has been a fixture in my life. Soda is gone. I still snack but I give some thought as to why I want to eat and what I am going to eat. Obviously, the bottom line for now is weight. As of today, I weigh 252.4. I started at 281 on May 6th. I have been using a spreadsheet to track progress so that I don't overemphasize recent results and lose motivation as I am wont to do. At this pace, I will go below 200 pounds sometime in January...for the first time in seventeen years. 186 is still the goal.
Regarding the bike, I definitely need wider handlebars and more comfortable grips. Ergon seems to be universally loved. Getting lighter will help my hands some, but for six or seven hours in the saddle I need the ergonomics. If all goes well, I'll do a century on the road bike on July 28. The next challenge will be a 120-mile "Gran Fondo" on September 2 on the mountain bike. Then a 400-mile multi-day in Virginia beginning October 20 will give me a chance to sort out the kit. Which reminds me that I need to get busy on any DIY pieces of the kit, so it can be thoroughly tested. So much to do.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
I got 99 problems but the bike ain't one.
130 miles on the 29er, 10 hours, and I'm still over 250 pounds and have 10 1/2 months to train. This was a very good day. Just what I needed after a lackadaisical week.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
The resultant devil of my details
Originally written on 7/13/12:
There are known knowns, known unknowns, and unknown unknowns. For instance, there is the known iPhone app Strava that uses GPS to record your ride and rank you against other riders over known segments. There are the known physical forces that govern momentum, center of gravity, and inertia. To wit, an idiot in motion tends to stay in motion until acted upon by the ground. Then we get into the known unknowns. I know there is a correct line through an obstacle. I just don't always know what it is. And finally, there are the unknown unknowns; heretofore, the province only of amateur philosopher Donnie Rumsfeld. Apparently there is circuitry in my head that thinks changing lines in the middle of a descent is a perfectly reasonable course of action. I'm here (fortunately) to tell you that it's not. I have knots, bruises, and abuggered rear derailleur bent rear dropout as proof. This is not something I thought I would have to guard against, another member of the unknown unknowns.
So what's the common thread here? The competitor in me was trying to break my personal best (and maybe a few other rider's personal bests on Strava). I was really locked in, successfully navigating all obstacles except the creek/tree/rock combo. And when I arrived at the section which dismounted me, the perfect line revealed itself to me just milliseconds AFTER entering the root-riddled spur. One particularly obtrusive root vetoed the late move, sending my front wheel in a direction that body and mind were not prepared to follow. The rest was a series of negative stimuli, a few deep breaths, and a powerful lesson about riding at the edge of one's abilities. The lesson? "Decide, commit, and decide again" has one too many steps. Decide and commit. Period.Now...how much does a rear derailleur cost? Steel bends. Steel is good. Oh, I almost forgot. I took eight minutes off my previous loop even with the takedown.
There are known knowns, known unknowns, and unknown unknowns. For instance, there is the known iPhone app Strava that uses GPS to record your ride and rank you against other riders over known segments. There are the known physical forces that govern momentum, center of gravity, and inertia. To wit, an idiot in motion tends to stay in motion until acted upon by the ground. Then we get into the known unknowns. I know there is a correct line through an obstacle. I just don't always know what it is. And finally, there are the unknown unknowns; heretofore, the province only of amateur philosopher Donnie Rumsfeld. Apparently there is circuitry in my head that thinks changing lines in the middle of a descent is a perfectly reasonable course of action. I'm here (fortunately) to tell you that it's not. I have knots, bruises, and a
So what's the common thread here? The competitor in me was trying to break my personal best (and maybe a few other rider's personal bests on Strava). I was really locked in, successfully navigating all obstacles except the creek/tree/rock combo. And when I arrived at the section which dismounted me, the perfect line revealed itself to me just milliseconds AFTER entering the root-riddled spur. One particularly obtrusive root vetoed the late move, sending my front wheel in a direction that body and mind were not prepared to follow. The rest was a series of negative stimuli, a few deep breaths, and a powerful lesson about riding at the edge of one's abilities. The lesson? "Decide, commit, and decide again" has one too many steps. Decide and commit. Period.
Singletrack!
Originally written on 7/11/12:
I am busting today. My weight continues to fall and the Gunnar is a fabulous piece of steel heaven. For just the second time in my life I rode singletrack and absolutely loved it. The first time was last Saturday, so I'm a total noob but the learning at this stage happens by leaps and bounds. There were too many dismounts the first time through. The second time there were just four, and I think I can see a way through all of them. Finding a skilled mountain biker to follow around should accelerate the learning.
I am busting today. My weight continues to fall and the Gunnar is a fabulous piece of steel heaven. For just the second time in my life I rode singletrack and absolutely loved it. The first time was last Saturday, so I'm a total noob but the learning at this stage happens by leaps and bounds. There were too many dismounts the first time through. The second time there were just four, and I think I can see a way through all of them. Finding a skilled mountain biker to follow around should accelerate the learning.
The friction that binds men's souls
Originally composed 6/27/12:
Last night was a bit of a battle to get myself out the door. This happens every once in a while. If I were more diligent about keeping a training log I might be able to identify the trends that sap my motivation. Perhaps I could minimize the friction that wears on the mind. It's a strange thing because for all my problem-solving ability, I tend to jump to the conclusion that my lack of motivation, dedication, or ability is to blame. Little by little I'm learning to cut myself a break and look for the clues that will lead me to a legitimate root cause. Case in point, I've been having problems with my saddle. Even short rides were causing a lot of discomfort. Strange as I've had this saddle for a while and never had problems in the past. When I took a moment to think of the possible causes, it occurred to me that I had removed the seat post to add a bottle holder. I assumed that I had replced the seat post and set it at the right height. A quick check showed that my assumption was wrong. No more discomfort, no mental friction.
Last night was a bit of a battle to get myself out the door. This happens every once in a while. If I were more diligent about keeping a training log I might be able to identify the trends that sap my motivation. Perhaps I could minimize the friction that wears on the mind. It's a strange thing because for all my problem-solving ability, I tend to jump to the conclusion that my lack of motivation, dedication, or ability is to blame. Little by little I'm learning to cut myself a break and look for the clues that will lead me to a legitimate root cause. Case in point, I've been having problems with my saddle. Even short rides were causing a lot of discomfort. Strange as I've had this saddle for a while and never had problems in the past. When I took a moment to think of the possible causes, it occurred to me that I had removed the seat post to add a bottle holder. I assumed that I had replced the seat post and set it at the right height. A quick check showed that my assumption was wrong. No more discomfort, no mental friction.
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