29:48

Twenty Nine Forty Eight.
What, you may ask, is that? Is it a bible verse? No, my right wing, bible-drilling hotentots, it is not a 'For God so loved the world that he invented the bicycle' quote of heretic intent. Is it the total commercial time in a one hour episode of CSI: Hawkinsville? Well, it may very well be, but that contains not its significance in this venue.

That, kids, is my new best time at Thomson.

That's right, sub 30 minutes for one lap. Okay, okay, I admit that that's ride time not total time, but like the asterisk at the end of Maguire's records or the positive B sample on Floyd's record, I refuse to let it alter my achievement. Technically, I stopped for 8 minutes or so to talk to someone and that is not reflected in ride time, but the rest of the ride was non-stop, so THPPPPPBBBTTTT!! - which is the sound it makes when you stick your tongue out and blow real hard. Go ahead, try it.
I was riding by myself and started off cold and not feeling very good. I was pushing myself, but just sort of lacked the drive to really thrash on my poor body. Sometimes when your out alone, you can be merciless and gut it out right to the edge, but it was cool and I wasn't feelin' it quite to that extent. I pushed to around 90% or so and ended up at the spider web in 10:20, where I stopped to talk to Diana, who was undecorating. After that I was feeling a lot better since I was nicely warmed up, and proceeded to run the back side of the trail without stopping. By the time I came up the smoking room, I had to stop for about 30 seconds so my vision would quit wavering, but continued on without really recovering. The new reroutes really help with maintaining your speed. My legs started coming apart before my lungs really gave out. At the top of the climbs, my form started to fall apart. My knees would start angling out randomly and the handlebars were sawing back and forth like I was trying to cut the fork off, but with concentrated effort I managed not to fall on my ass and keep moving. It's like my body was saying, I'll go any direction I can if I don't have to push straight down on the pedal.
All in all, I think I could have pushed harder. I had a little left, I didn't leave everything on the trail. Maybe next time.
But, having typed that, I have to wonder. Did I really have any more? or is that my cycling addiction talking? Only one way to find out......

The Coffee Shop Ride

Carrie and I crawled out of bed this morning and decided to ride for our breakfast. This is as close to the historic hunter/gatherer schtick as I plan to get. One of the things I've always held as goal was to begin doing errands on my bike. I can't bike commute - it's just too far on dangerous roads with no facilities to freshen up at the ens. I can however, use two meat-motor powered wheels to go get the occaisional meal or forgotten grocery item. It's not that easy to do bike errands in our suburban-sprawl, Generica hell town, but thanks to the access roads and Cohen Walker, I've got safe, easy access to a Publix, some fast food restaurants, and my new favorite - Duncan Donuts. So far, I've avoided the temptation of donuts, but they have wicked killa good bagels, and an everything bagel has always held a warm spot in my soul. Especially with cream cheese and a large coffee.
So when we got up this morning, realizing we were out of coffee, I suggested we ride to DD for our morning repast. It's about 3 miles one way, and only has one or two mini-climbs. On the road bike, I could probably make the run in close to the same time as taking the car, given the traffic and Rube Goldberg street architecture of the area, but Carrie doesn't have a road bike (yet.) We rounded up the cold weather gear ( it was windy and in the 50's), unloaded the bikes from the truck after last night's Halloween ride, and set out to the call of caffeinated beverages.
It was a beautiful morning, though a little cool to start. I decided a road bike is MUCH better on the road than my mountain bike. My legs were a little stiff from riding last night and hitting the pedals straight out of bed, but we clipped along at a stady 11+ mph. Carrie did great on the climbs, and kept rolling toward breakfast. The DD was ridiculously busy, and we stood in a long line of Church-goers who regarded us with a mix of curiosity and disdain for our heathenist lifestyle. The girl that took our order asked about our bikes, and generally seemed interested in riding, which was cool. We sat outside by our bikes and watched the sun climb up through a beautiful morning while we enjoyed our coffee (with sugar) and cream-cheese laden bagels. Hey, if you ride to the restaurant, you can eat whatever you damn well please. Those are the rules, bub.
I love going places by bike. I'm not going to lie and stand on some soapbox preaching about decreasing my carbon footprint, it's something different. When you are on a bike, you play by your own rules. The topography is different, and you can choose thousands of ways to get from A to B, seeing things along the way nobody else sees. You are your own transportation, subject to any detour or side trip you choose. You are absolutely, completely independent.
Bike = Freedom.

Changing Seasons

I'm calling tonight the first cold weather ride. Okay, it's only in the low sixties out there, but it's damp and dark as only Georgia in the winter can be. Mostly, for the first time during a ride, I looked down and thought, Damn, my toes are cold. Of course, bib shorts, short sleeve jersey, and thin socks don't offer much insulation.
The cool weather always makes me realize how adaptable we are as humans. People that spend a lot of time outside (cyclists, for instance) acclimate pretty quickly to the weather. I rode all summer in ridiculous heat and learned to tolerate it. Riding while it's in the mid 70's now feels like a cool fall day, and sixty degrees sends me running for toe covers. But, come spring time I'll be used to the cold. Sixty degrees will have me back in summer gear and seventy five will feel insufferable.
Temperature isn't the only thing we get used to. The years I'm riding a lot I find I feel more "plugged in" to the natural environment. You can almost feel the plants waking in the spring, the rush toward blooming and budding. The air is fragrant and rich with life returning. And in the fall you can feel everything slowing down like a worn out kid going down for a nap. I think this is one of the reasons outdoor activities are more popular than ever. Whether you're riding the local hills, shooting rapids, or even out hunting, spending time out there fills a gap that is getting bigger in this techno society. I'm sitting here at a computer typing away, and you're sitting there reading. We move just a little further away from our origins. So we all find ways to try to regain a little of that connection.
So some of us go ride. It's a hell of a lot more productive than sitting in a tree waiting for warm venison to amble by.

On less spiritual notes, my weight seems to have plateaued at an even 250, which is 20 lbs from my starting weight. The road riding has almost stopped for now, and I haven't ridden much for the past few weeks, so I'm confident it will start to drop again as I pick up my riding a bit. Jesse and I rode at Thomson tonight, and I turned a personal best time. I won't embarrass myself by posting it, and I had to make flipper ride a single speed and kick him in both knees to keep up. And I still think he was sandbagging. But I'm still faster than I used to be.

Picture Credits: The fantastic illustration is by Mary Teichman. For more info, visit PictureBook. Here's another one by her that you guys might like:

Singin' in the Rain

We finally got some rain here in the deep south, and we decided to go riding in it. Actually, that's not quite right. We were out riding when it started riding, and we kept riding. I love riding in the rain. Not the lightning striking, monsoon downpour rain like we enjoyed at Santos, but your average, steady rain. The woods are beautiful and quiet, and all the colors seem to deepen. Most times, I'm already sweat-soaked anyway, so a little more wet really doesn't matter.
The other reason that I like it is that your average reasonable human is at home warm and dry and thinks we're crazy. Hell, a lot of the bikers around here think we're crazy. I'm not sure if the separatist, extremist quality of the sport drew me to it, or if I enjoy riding because I'm that kind of person. I've always valued being different from the herd, but I never use that as a motivation. And that's why riding in the rain is so much fun. The people that mountain bike because it's "Xtreme" and is the cool kind of thing you see in a mountain dew commercial don't ride when it's raining. They're busy standing around at cocktail parties and singles bars impressing people with stories of they're latest "Xtreme" ride. They wouldn't dare get all that muck and grit in the XTR workings of they're carbon double-bounce bikes. If asked why they're not riding, they may say it's for the good of the trails, but don't believe them. They just don't want to get messy.
So, I'll enjoy riding in the rain, or when it's 105 degree, or when it's 20 degrees and pissing sleet. I'll freeze, bake, suffer and repeat. I'll be riding while they sit at home and read about the latest $600 Italian retro wool jersey and how it defines style and who you are as a biker. They can leaf through the printed-on-heavy-stock, beautifully photographed catalogs. I don't think those catalogs are a tribute to our sport. I think they're trying to sell me something. But I plan to be too busy to listen.
I'll be out riding in the rain.

Welcome To The New Blog!

I decided to switch blog hosts. The geocities blog offered no creative control, so I came here. So far, so good. I'm going to copy the last post from my old blog over here, just in case you missed it. And for the millions of new viewers, the old blog can be found here:

<<<<The Old Shopfiles>>>>>

Monkey Business

I think I've got a monkey on my back. I'm not really an addictive personality. I even managed to stop smoking cold turkey, back in the day. But I think I've finally crossed the line.

The saddest part of this is that it's the result of hanging out with the wrong people, just like my parents warned. They're all addicted. All the classic signs are there, if you really look. Weight loss. Neglect of family and friends that don't share in the addiction. Anger and mood swings, especially if kept away from the drug. And now I'm too far in to get out.



My name is David S, and I'm a mileage addict.



I'm noticing that with my increasing level of fitness and decreasing weight, I'm riding stronger than ever. I'm finding that I keep longing for longer rides, which sucks because I'm running out of daylight. I feel like a wound spring before a ride. I can feel the strength in my leg, I can feel the tension building inside and I know I'm going to have a killer ride. I felt that way last night before the road ride, and managed to climb all the Bible Camp hills in the big ring, clocking 17-15 mph over the top.

And I'm starting to undertand a little more about my friends that have been riding at high levels.

I could never imagine riding a century in the past, but now it's not such a strange thought. Walking back to the car at the fair this year, I kept looking at the perimeter road and wondering If I could get a century in when we do the ACS Relay for Life next year. I find myself worrying about not riding enough, especially on the road, since the time change will happen soon. I told Carrie that an indoor trainer is a necessity.

But unlike all our favorite stars, I don't think I'll be checking into rehab any time soon. I think I'll let this addiction run it's course, even if it leave me a shrunken shadow of the man I was before. It may take many, many years.