Sooo... about that stupid thing...

Did you know that on paper 40 mile per hour winds look a whole lot different than they do in the real world?

Yeah, I know.

So last night my truck took me home with my bike stranded at work, unable to persuade my "took too much time off" legs from pushing it through the wind storm of Doom. Which is OK, I was pretty sadly disappointed, but I've got 353 more days in the year. If I ride 5 miles each of those days, I'll easily double my 2011 mileage.

So, more days to come. I know early this morning I already miss the power boost that inhaling that cold Nebraska air gives me. The peace of the smooth rolling big steel beast sets in to my soul. And the smile that emerges from my face following the conquer of the first hill.

Tomorrow, or even today, is another day.

I may be stupid

Right now it's 30 degrees with a NNW wind of 31-45 mph. When one considers riding a bicycle in those conditions, the word "stupid" may be valid. Snow is falling as well. Sitting in front of the bike in the picture is a perfectly good 4x4 pickup truck that is also, not ironically, sitting in front of work. He who has sanity may say "well gosh, maybe you should drive the truck".

Maybe

I thought about a lot over the past hour as the winds continue to pick up. Riding home, which would be a route smack into that horrendous wind using legs that haven't had much cycling conditioning over the past year, may be stupid but it's not miserable. Miserable is what got me here, defeatism at considering options other than the trusted tried and true. Not accepting that there is a easier better way that only on the surface is a lot more difficult.

So I'm riding my bike home. I'll be slow as a turtle, in pain like crazy, wearing completely the wrong clothes for biking or the conditions.

At least I'll be, for another day, alive.

History, part I

In the middle of my liquid fast, after discovering some healthy new hobbies, I was looking for an alternative to the gym. One thing I couldn't shake was all the memories I had as a teenager on my bicycle and how much fun those memories were. One Saturday I decided to go to my parents' house and see if any bikes were left. Sure enough there was, an old "Mount Shasta" mountain bike that previously I'd had many an adventure on. To say I was thrilled was a gross understatement.

I immediately went and bought new tires and tubes for it, stoked to be riding it. That evening I was already slated to go out transmitter hunting in rural Lancaster county so I threw the bike in the back of my pickup wondering if I'd get a chance to ride.

As I rumbled along those country roads that night in my old, beloved, red 1992 Ford F-150 that bike was calling to me in the back. Literally. Like some sort of siren of the seas, it was just itching for me to get the itch again.

Later in the evening it was the chance of I and another to "hide", and hide we did so in the north west corner of Lancaster county. It was going to be awhile before anyone had a trace of us, so I decided "oh what the hell" and got the bike out of the back.

We were hidden next to a nice gravel road, Ashland road, one that didn't see any traffic. "What the hell" I thought, as I got on the bike and started to pedal. Immediately I was laughing hysterically and smiling, 29 years old and acting like I was 12 again.

6 years ago, that ride up and back down that gravel roller was the spark of something that I've not yet been able to get out of my soul. "It gets in your soul", often you may hear, and it's true. Wearing jeans, tennis shoes, and a sweatshirt I had no idea what I was doing.

But damn if I didn't like it.

An open request to my bike

Dear Big Blue Truck,
I apologize for the indignity of not only not being ridden for the past 7.5 months, but also of stuffing you in the messiest corner of the garage.

I intend to make both things right, now. Now being when I need you more than ever.

Yours truly,
Ben

Of not going liquid only again

This blog started six years ago because at the time I was starting a new liquid diet and wanted a public spot to talk about it outside of my other we presences.   In other words I was too lazy to setup WordPress.

I came to a crossroads this week, frustrated by weight gain over my last year of inactivity and wanted a jumpstart.  I heavily considered going back on said liquid diet, my mind seemingly made up.  Then it wasn't.

To Fix This I need to fix the root of the problem.  Simply put - every time I get off the bike and eat processed or pre-prepared food I go downhill. Fast.  I'm just not like everyone else for better or for worse.  Just like alcohol, something inside of me just can't stay in control.  So I, after all this time, need to learn.

I also need to remember that the bike is sanity, goodness, saving, and grace wrapped into one. 

When I drive to work, even after doing it consistently for a time, it feels weird.  When I ride, regardless of pain or what have you, it feels right. 

I like that feeling.   I need a billboard in front of my face reminding me of it.

Best seat in the house

I could complain about a lot of things, but the view from my office is not one of them.  That's the path that takes me to work every day, and from home I take it the entire way except for four blocks of side streets and a sidewalk. Five miles of smooth bicycle highway, right up to work. 

Four out of five commutes last week, and commuted today to start off the week.  The LHT is in dire need of maintenance, but I'm liking riding it too much.  Maybe I can see if the shop can squeeze me in? New brakes, brake pads, cables, chain, rear hub rebuild, bar tape and new der cables should have her rolling like new.  All for about the cost of 2 tanks log fuel.

While writing the check for license plates today I realize they cost 1/4th the price of the Pugsley complete I want, and 1/3rd the cost of my LHT.  Hrmmmm...

Spring Training

Sometimes enough has to hit enough and something gives. That something was me, and my now refusal to drive a car. Or rather, refusal to rely and crutch upon it.

So I rode to work today, and it was good.

That is all... for now