Category Archives: Awesome Wife

Stuffed Sausage

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I’ve not been very smart with my eating this winter.  I succumbed to the “well I could eat that when I was training/riding/etc.” line of rationalization time and again over the winter.  The obvious result?  I feel like a stuffed sausage.  I havn’t gained back all the weight I’d lost last season but enough that I no longer feel comfortable.

I could blame the numerous temptations between my last ride in November and this spring – the multi-day gorgefest that is Christmas, then New Year’s Eve, Valentine’s Day and finally Easter.  I could point the finger of blame at my Awesome Wife who has developed a wicked skill set in the kitchen that includes the ability to whip up a dozen chocolate-chip cookies in a matter of minutes or piles of pancakes, sausages and bacon on a Sunday morning.  I could pass the buck to my evil co-workers who insist on bringing in three dozen doughnuts every Thursday.

I could, but I won’t.  Nobody held me down and poured gravy down my throat.  Nobody held a weapon-shaped pastry to my head and forced me to eat it.  Nobody made me eat seconds.  And thirds.  It’s nobody’s fault.  I’m going to find nobody and kick their ass just as soon as I can un-wedge myself from this chair.  When did they start making chairs so narrow anyway?

The other day I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in years.  Eric and I appeared ever so momentarily in the Calgary-shot television show Viper (that lasted only slightly longer than our appearance) in the mid-90s.  We’d been hired to be background tough-guys in a bar fight scene and for generally prowling around on our motorcycles.  Eric was a power-lifter of considerable size, an imposing presence behind the counter at the motorcycle shop.  We affectionately nick-named him No-Neck which we only ever said out loud when out of his reach.  I on the other hand was trying hard to create that same presence with my long hair and long moustache and the large chip on my shoulder.  I can say with certainty that all it got me was attention from the wrong people.

At any rate, Eric was almost unrecognizable when I saw him again having lost upwards of 60 pounds from the last time I’d seen him.  I genuinely would not have recognized him if we hadn’t been standing in our old place of work.  The change was remarkable and inspiring.

Speaking of inspiration, there’s a wager about.  It is, as last year’s was, a gentlemen’s wager meaning only bragging rights and pride are on the line and ethical behaviour is assumed.  No giving your GPS to someone else to put miles on.  No driving it around in your car.  No hacking the data files.  Well, no hacking your own data files at any rate :-D

The wager is simple: first rider to 1000km.  I suppose there are three wagers – 1000km, 1500km and 2000km.  Considering I managed just shy of 2000km all of last season (while still winning the last rider riding wager), this is a tall order.  It’s also serious motivation.  For Adam.

I noted earlier that Adam would ride to work with one foot missing (it’s just a flesh wound) if there was competition on the line, real or imagined.  What I should have done was bet that we could get Adam to ride in the snow, sleet and rain as I would have one that in the first 7 days.  I was convinced that with the snow on my car the other morning, even Adam wouldn’t have ridden.  Wrong.  Not only had he ridden while I was brushing heavy, wet snow from my car, he had the audacity to rub it in.  Beating Adam to 1000km is going to be a significant challenge.

The Cheater has all but stopped riding to work.  In fact I don’t think I’ve seen his bike there once this week (as opposed to my much more dedicated twice).  This is not to say he’s not riding however.  Alberto has been taking advantage of his wife-less, kid-less domestic situation and putting on 40 kilometers after work.  This will not do.  This will not do at all.  While Adam and I are busy filling our familial obligations, The Cheater is riding.  While this is clearly cheating, the Council of Gentlemen’s Wagers has determined that it is within the confines of our agreement and thus must be permitted.

There is hope for me yet however.  Chris H. you may remember has been blessed with a compact wind profile, thus enabling him to handily embarrass the rest of us with his jackrabbit speed.  He’s managed to log a massive three thousand meters this season.  I just might be able to fend him off if I can maintain my progress.

This leads me to the present conundrum.  Well, it is for me – it clearly wouldn’t be for Adam.  Depending on which electronic gadget one consults for weather information, tomorrow ranges anywhere from slightly wet but warm to down-right miserable with the threat of a double head-wind gusting to 33km/h.  It is with resignation that I set my cycling clothes in the bathroom and dig out my plastic pants.  I will ride tomorrow, in the rain, in a double-headwind, in my plastic pants.  Can you feel my enthusiasm?

Damn you Gentlemen’s Wager.

Slacker!

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Friday’s ride to work hinted at something I’ve been suspecting for a while, chiefly that I’ve been slacking.  And that I need to make some adjustments to the bike’s setup.  That same day I had a rewarding ride home despite not setting any records or finding any rabbits.

I’d let a lack of sleep, energy and the ever-present headwind slowly re-set my effort level from panting-and-sweating to I-put-some-effort-in.  Sure it was a real effort and you couldn’t say I wasn’t trying at all but it was far from my best efforts.  This all-out effort was one of the chief rewards I (re)discovered when I started riding this summer and I’d been letting it slip away.

Now I know, you can’t always perform at that level – there are days when nutrition, sleep, motivation and / or any number of other factors conspire to bring you down a notch or two.  I get that.  The difference – for me – is that while you need recovery days to, well, recover, you don’t grow by putting in a good effort – that’s not enough.  The mind and body and their remarkable adaptability will grow to perform almost any task you continue to throw at it.  The brain’s now-accepted plasticity means it will devote more physical brain real-estate to a task that has received focused effort and attention be it math, martial arts or cycling.  Anyone who’s ever done anything physical – shovelling dirt all summer, lifting weights in the gym, stone mason (okay that might be a long shot all things considered – lost art that one) – knows that your ability to perform the task after a few months of work is vastly improved.  Your mind and body have adapted.   Cool.

However, the downside to the adaptability is it’s conservation of energy.  It takes effort and energy to change – to grow new muscles, to fire more neurons and bridge more synaptic gaps – this is all energy intensive.  What does this mean?  It means you’re a bit like your co-worker who always does everything required, but never works overtime, never volunteers for extra work, never moves outside what you’ve asked of them.  Adaptation comes to a halt as soon as you give it the signal that hey – we’re good enough now thanks.  Progress comes to a halt.  You must push the bounds to grow.

As I rode out this morning, a couple of factors conspired to push me back into the panting-and-sweating zone from what has become my effortful-yet-casual mode of late.  I found myself pushing harder than I had in weeks, re-discovering the Grail zone in the process along the way.  As I approached the 8th Ave overpass, another rider shot in ahead of me having come down from my right on the far side of the overpass.  His quick cadence implied that he was at least an attentive cyclist and the growing gap confirmed his speed was slightly faster than mine.  I briefly pondered following him but you know how that goes – we’re going the same direction, he’s not leaving me in the dust and therefore I must try.

I thought I was going to lose him on a couple of occasions as he managed to put some distance between us before I sorted out the best gear to reel him in.   I slowly bridged the gap and when I’d caught up to him, it occurred to me that I might not have it in me to get the job done.  It was not a quick pass and required an unsuccessful attempt at looking casual as we rode side by side for the eternity it took to get by.  I found a surprise burst of energy as he moved into my peripheral vision so I picked up my pace again, dropping him as best I could before taking my exit and heading east, while hoping he was headed west so I wouldn’t have to burn myself completely trying to keep my lead.

My point?  Good question.  Oh yes – that I wouldn’t have pulled that off if I hadn’t been in push-to-adapt mode.  Good enough wasn’t going to cut it.  The best part?  I felt fantastic all morning and that win – petty as it might be – fuelled my good mood (and sarcasm) all day.  I look forward to another adventure with the Grail tomorrow (assuming whatever sickness that is presently ravaging my wife is gone and I actually get out of the house – I arrived home this evening to find her sicker than I’ve ever seen her).