Author Archives: Andrew

The Thin End of the Sugary Wedge

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Over the course of the summer I’ve managed to shed an unnecessary 30 pounds and for the first time in over a decade, have seen the scale read under 200 pounds.  Without resting on the counter.  It has been an unplanned side-effect of the riding as fitness hadn’t been one of the drivers to keep riding.  I’ll take it though.

I was complaining commenting the other day that some combinations of my riding gear seemed more prone than others to funnel the fall wind down my back when Adam correctly noted that “that’s because your shirt doesn’t fit you anymore – it’s too big”.  He’s right – it doesn’t, and it is.  That’s pretty cool and that it was noticed by someone else is even more rewarding.  In typical Adam fashion however, it should be noted that while I’ve lost 30 pounds, he’s lost in excess of 60.  That’s amazing.  Really.  And it looks good on him.

There’s always the thin end of the wedge lurking just around the corner though.  The thin, deep-fried, sugar-coated edge of the doughnut wedge.  Tomorrow is doughnut day – nemesis day.  It’s threatening to derail my sub-200 progress entirely.  Earlier in the week I wanted some fat-laden dough-circles in the worst way.  They were haunting my every waking moment, driving me to distraction.  And why?  Because I’d had one two on Thursday, followed by some of the home-made cookies in the pantry on Friday, the rest of them on Saturday and Middle-Monster’s icing-coating chocolate birthday cupcakes on Sunday.  And pizza.  And hotdogs.  You see what I mean by the thin end of the sugary wedge?  When it comes to doughnuts, one really is the loneliest number!  Luckily my laziness trumps my appetite – I’m unlikely to cycle to the nearest Tim’s for a doughnut.

My food consumption wasn’t all bad over the weekend however, but it was…unusual.  I was sitting at the table feeling lifeless and worn out after a morning of single-parenting the monsters, trying to sort out this craving I hadn’t been able to satisfy.  Then it dawned on me.  I wanted pickles and not just any pickles.  I wanted Bicks Polskie Ogorki pickles specifically.  What makes that so odd is – I don’t eat pickles.  I don’t not eat them, they’re just not something I ever put in the shopping cart.  I pinged Trace and asked her to pick some up on the way home.  I fished them out of the bag the moment she stepped in the door and proceeded to eat half the jar.  She thinks I might be pregnant.

And then there’s the staple, my favourite, my stand-by.  Smooth peanut butter – oh how I love thee.  In the morning, in the evening, when I’m up or down, peanut butter is the perfect food.  None of this organic, processed-by-envirocherubs-in-an-outdoor-unfactory stuff either.  Gimme the gluco and the hydro and the addiditive and the preservative.  In a kitchen over-flowing with organic whole foods in one stage or another of becoming award-worthy healthy meals, it is the one commercial food I refuse to relinquish.

What about you – what’s your wedge?  What are you unwilling to sacrifice?

If you’ll excuse me I think I’ll go get some PB now…and another pickle.

My Winter Conundrum

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With fall in full swing and winter seemingly around the corner, I’ve been pondering my cycling options.  While it’s true I’ve said I intend to ride all winter long, it should not be construed as “I’m going to ride my daily commute irrespective of the weather”.  Based on 20ish years in Calgary, I expect I’ll be able to get some path/road rides at least every month, if not every week.  I don’t expect to ride outdoors every day by any stretch – I’m not that damaged.

I’ve participated in outdoor activities in the dead of winter.  I’ve put on the long underwear, fleece pants, snow pants, t-shirt, long-sleeve, sweater and finally winter jacket, followed by regular socks, then wool socks and winter boots, a scarf, a balaclava and finally a helmet to go and ride my snowmobile when it’s -30˚C.  You sweat and almost overheat while getting dressed and out to the snowmobile, then the wind sucks away all but the minimum of heat and you’re sledding feeling reasonably comfortable, except that you’re wearing an extra forty pounds of clothing.  This doesn’t sound conducive to cycling.

I’m also not keen on the idea of spending more time pushing than riding.  If I leave early enough to avoid the traffic that will certainly be looking to run me into the snowdrifts, I will get to the paths without trouble.  The path network however is not like our sidewalks – they are not all slated to be cleared.  I can only imagine how much fun it’s going to be to start doing the hike-a-bike in winter gear after a big dump of snow.  So when it’s too bleeding cold or there’s too much snow to ride outside what shall I do?

Ride inside is the obvious answer.  I could ride in the basement once the kids have gone to bed, or before they got up.  Well…not before they got up – that’s not possible – my middle monster doesn’t actually sleep, she only lies in her bed until she’s bored of lying there and then she’s up again.  Looking for company.  I could set up and ride in the garage – private, no little fingers poking into things, no concerns about break downs or flat tires leaving me sweaty and stranded in the middle of nowhere, still winter-cold but no wind so I can dress warm enough to keep from freezing without ending up like A Christmas Story.

So we have the where, now I need the what.  What kind of contraption do I use to ride?  Oh and there are all kinds of options here.  Fluid trainers, mag trainers, wind trainers, inertial trainers, rollers, rollers with resistance, free-motion rollers, trainers that are internet-enabled, trainers that let you rock – or in my case, wobble – back and forth.  The list is almost endless with prices running from under a hundred for the no-name mag trainers to a couple of grand for the internet-enabled, remote controlled, alien-inspired, laser-guided version.  Okay, that last bit isn’t entirely true – you have to use your own laser. Tangent: I don’t have a maintenance stand for the bike so I hang it from the garage roof with a couple of straps.  Once, on a whim and understanding the foolishness of it, I suspended my bike from the garage ceiling such that I could climb aboard and pedal it.  You have not lived until you’ve ridden a suspended bicycle as fast as you can (I was only willing to do it once however as the foolishness exceeded my repeat threshold). /tangent

I’m not in a position to buy the alien technology though I’m sure hooking it into the internet so a virtual Lance Armstrong can lap me before I’ve shifted out of the small ring would do wonders for my ego.  I’m faced with two categories – rollers or trainers?  Rollers will, through negative reinforcement encourage me to use a more disciplined riding style and to pay attention to “my line”.  I like the free-standing aspect – nothing but balance and gyro holding up the bike, lots of focus on cadence and riding smooth. Unless I buy (or build) the free-motion rollers though, I can’t stand and sprint on them.  On the other hand, a fluid or mag trainer can be set up to provide a load for aerobic training or strength training depending on what you’re after, but there’s not the discipline on form enforced as the bike is pinned to the trainer and – at least theoretically – it can’t fall over.

I can throw the bike on the rollers and ride – theoretically – without having to do any more than I would if I was going for a ride on the paths.  The trainers all lock on to the rear axle, an act that would take at least 15, perhaps 30 seconds of my precious ride time.  A trainer is rumoured to be harder on the rear wheel than rollers, but rollers require two smooth (IE not winter knobbies) tires or you’ll be spinning and buzzing the entire time.  In a perfect world I’d have both – the galacticaly-connected super trainer with ego-crushing option and the full-motion rollers with resistance and throw-you-down-and-humiliate options with dedicated bikes for each, in a specially air-conditioned room with large-screen televisions and an endless supply of mental distractions to keep me riding.  This is not a perfect world however.

What say you?  Do you have rollers?  A trainer?  Should I buy the Amazon $60 trainer or will that just be $60 I didn’t put toward the Cycleops trainer or a set of rollers? Have you tried the opposite?  Would you have both if you could?  Have you lost focus at high speed and ridden off the side of your rollers only to have your wheel’s spinning inertia blast you forward into your precariously balanced distraction device, therein wreaking havoc upon your domain?  ’Cause that would be a good story.

An Indulgence in Self-Pity

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During this week of miserably cold mornings and progressively warmer afternoons, I had a chance to ride in a multitude of differing weather conditions from genuinely freezing to unseasonably hot.  Such is the weather in Calgary that this can occur within the same day.  As such, I’ve had opportunity to compare and contrast my different riding gear outfits.  I say outfits like I have a plethora of selection and choice when only recently I pointed out that I’ve acquired the bare minimum to go cycling every day.

I now have 2 sport shirts ostensibly made with some super technology that allow me to sweat comfortably, never be damp and never smell.  I have no problem sweating in these shirts though I’ve never had a problem sweating in any other shirt so I’m not sure what the benefit was supposed to be.  The instant I stop moving, two things happen: the evaporative action of the breeze is gone so instead of being mildly sweaty, I look like I’ve just walked out of the shower; this is quickly followed by a general cooling from no longer trying to propel my fat self through the air, which is greatly aided by the yards of now-wet fabric, wicking away all the heat in my body.  Which is a long way of saying they lied – my shirt is damp.  My co-workers have assured me they lied about not smelling as well.  Still, I have 2 shirts which is more than I had 6 months ago.

For Christmas last year, my mother-in-law gave me a fantastic MEC long-sleeve zippered T, designed to be a base layer.  Unfortunately the slim fit design rendered it virtually impossible for any use in public where I might retain some sense of dignity.  It’s like she knew what was coming though as today it fits perfectly, even a little loose.  I’ve worn it as a base layer and also as a mid layer over the not-very-smart fabric t-shirt and my purple MEC shell.  It is fantastic.

I’ve spent the entire summer riding in my Levi cargo shorts, at first in normal underwear (and once commando which I strongly, strongly advise against) before graduating to cycling-specific, chamois-equipped underwear.  Also from MEC.  These lend themselves to riding in almost any sort of below-the-waist garment though I’ve not yet tried them with a kilt.  Perhaps next year.

Best Wife rewarded my moaning about frozen knees with a pair of stretchy pants, properly called cycling tights but I just can’t bring myself to say to anyone ”no, it’s not cold when I wear my tights” so stretchy pants they are.  They are fuzzy-lined (technical term), wind-proof from the front, breathable in the back and slippery.   These are also from MEC.  As is my bike (though I bought it at a pawn shop).  I’m starting to feel like a MEC shill.

In the course of the past week, I’ve used all of the above in addition to my Running Room (hey – they’re not MEC!) 2-layer winter running socks and generic pseudo-leather winter gloves.  Friday was the culmination of all of this – a cool morning departure with all 3 top layers, the chamois-shorts and stretchy pants and leather gloves and the omnipresent headwind.  In all fairness, I’m not certain there’s been a headwind every ride or even every morning however the density of the cold air makes it feel that way (rough calculation of the difference for power at the same speed between the hot and cold days is 6-7%, equivalent to a 2% grade).  Friday’s forecast called for +26°C and I couldn’t help checking the 3 flags at the end of the hall at every opportunity.  The limp and lifeless flags promised a windless afternoon.  I was looking forward to a smoking ride home.

I’d brought my cargos to replace the tights as Thursday’s adventure showed even 18°C to be too hot for them – 26°C would surely fry me.  Despite an overwhelming desire to bail out early on such a nice Friday afternoon I was still at the office after 5 when I heard the outside buzzer ring.  I ignored it at first but after several minutes finally relented thinking perhaps one of the guys had locked himself out.  Such was not the case and I immediately regretted opening the door.  The courier was apologetic about being late but was finally here to pick up a large shipment – long after our shipping department and staff had called it a day.  We messed around to sort things out and finally got the truck loaded and on it’s way.  I grabbed my gear to get changed for the ride home when what to my wandering eye did appear?    Angry, angry, billowing flags.  I’d been rewarded with a headwind for my troubles.

I slipped into my not-very-smart fabric shirt and chamois shorts and pulled the cargos over top, pushing the rest of the riding gear, lunch kit and dirty laundry into a now very-stuffed pack.  I was no longer excited about the ride home and after wheeling around the corner and getting the headwind full-on, I momentarily debated the call of shame, such was the level of my disappointment.  My energy level was coincident with my disappointment.

I slogged on thinking about how miserable it all was, how I’d been cheated out of a brilliant ride home and how I was sick to death of fighting the wind every ride.  Reality eventually prevailed and I thought about how lucky I was to be able to ride to work every day, to be able to ride at all, to have a great wife who supports my weekend disappearances with the bike, and kids who have expressed an desire to join me.  Really, I have nothing to complain about.

Once I’d sorted myself out, I had time to take in the ride and the very first thing I noticed?  My cargo shorts.  While they have indeed been a decent entry point for cycling, I believe I will, as I suggested Thursday, join the ranks of the lycra-shorted cyclists come summer.    The riding experience of the chamois shorts & stretchy pants combo is splediferous, in such subtle-yet-significant ways.  The back-to-back comparison Friday – as I’d not ridden with both stretchy pants and cargos the same day – showed there just might be something to all that cycling lycra besides sheep-like behaviour afterall.

I spent the remainder of the ride finding solace in the suffering but my knees are starting to disagree with me.  They’ve been aching more than normal lately and I’m not sure if it’s age, recent temperatures, bike setup or a combination of the above.  I do know it concerns me.