Monday, June 29

This Morning’s Ride: 56:38 Distance: 12.85 miles Average: someplace around 90; I forgot to mark it down and I’m too lazy to go look now.

I rode for about two minutes without a helmet today (as soon as I realized this, I turned around and rode back). I downshifted my chainwheel and once again forgot to upshift today. (Resulting in my riding on a higher gear on my cassette, briefly making me think that I was doing markedly better).

Where’s my head at?

Well, I’m trying to buy this house, and my oldest son’s getting married in two weeks. On a beach in Virginia. At dawn.

And I have to buy a suit.

What sort of suit does one wear to a dawn wedding on the beach? I have no suits. I have no jackets. I have no dress pants. I have no dress shirts. I have no dress shoes. What few ties I have left have things like crossword puzzles, hot sauces, airplanes or Alfred E. Neumann on them.

I do have a tux. The last time I wore it was Saturday, March 30th, 1996.*

But I’m not in the wedding party and it’s too big for me. One thing about cycling–it’s slimming. My tux is a 48 regular. I’m now a 44 long.

So–a new suit. And shirt and tie and shoes. And house. And no riding for the two weeks I’ll be on vacation, because my car is almost, but  not quite, exactly the worst kind of car for carrying bikes. The only carrier that would work costs too much.

So, my head’s not in the game.

Can you blame me?

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*I performed stand-up comedy for a fundraising event for a local theater. I know this because the program, my ticket, and my set list were still in the jacket’s pocket. The list is full of prompts for jokes I only vaguely remember.

Sunday, June 28

This Morning’s Ride: 1:10:31 Distance: 15:01 miles Average: 85 RPM

Is there such a thing as an exertion headache? If there was, I had it this morning. Shortly after I got on the bike, my head started throbbing, and it didn’t stop. It made what could have been a very pleasant ride rather less so.

I was hoping to ride with my friend Scott again this morning. I even sent him the route I was going to take. Then I went to bed, got up, and rode without once checking my email to see if he was interested. Turned out he was, but by the time I found out it was too late. Oh, well. I would have been lousy company anyways.

I also would have gotten us lost. I  know that, because I got myself lost. Well, not exactly lost, but misdirected. Here’s the route I was planning on taking:See that squiggly loop inside Ellison Park over to the right? It doesn’t exist. Not as a road, anyways, even though The Google lists it as “Ellison Road.” It had been my plan to ride down into the park on the straight line, and then back up on the squiggly line. But I couldn’t find where the roads meet. There’s a parking lot and some lodges, but no road that I could see. I eventually did find part of the road, after wandering down a path known as ‘Indian Trail,’ but it’s not as it appears on the map. It’s a steep climb, too–although it would have been steeper had I just turned around and rode up the way I came down. I topped 40 MPH going down that hill. With a headache.

And, since I was riding solo, I decided to go a longer route: The Google lists this route as being 14.2 miles, which meant I rode .9 miles around the basin of the park looking for the invisible Ellison Road. This also explains the relatively low RPM as well.

While I was down there, I considered staying there. Living my life in the basin, simply because it was easier than climbing out. I’m not kidding. That’s how my mind works. In every situation, there’s at least one small part of my brain that tells me–quite insistently–to quit. To take the easy option, and ignore any consequences. For a very long time, it’s the part of my mind that I would listen to.

Only recently have I discovered that this part of my mind is ridiculous.

And I’m riding again tomorrow.

Friday, June 26

This morning’s ride: 1:00:34 Distance 13.47 miles Average: 92 RPM

This morning I woke up gumpy, sleepy and dopey. I let the other four dwarves sleep.

Thank you! I’ll be here all week!

No, seriously, I did. My self-pitying mood from last night was carrying over. I didn’t want to get up and ride, didn’t want to go to work. Of course, being in a mental state like that is pretty detrimental to sleeping. So I got up and rode.

I rode poorly. I downshifted my chainwheel* to go up a long incline, and neglected to upshift once I got past it. This meant I rode along for a couple of miles spinning along at a high RPM, but at a lower speed. This may be why I rode 1.5 miles less today than yesterday while spending the same amount of time on the bike. Put another way: I rode the same route on Monday in 44 minutes.

Attitude does have a lot to do with how well one performs. Of course another reason might be because I was wearing my bike shorts backwards. I’m not kidding. That was the dopey part. The slightly looser spots where my buttocks are supposed to rest were filled with…nothing much. I was so out of it this morning, that I didn’t even notice I had them on backwards until I went to take my shower after the ride.

But between the ride and the shower, something happened. Something wonderful.

Last night, I explained to my kids that I was sad and hurt that I didn’t have much of a birthday. I didn’t do it because I wanted to make them feel bad. I told them this because I was in a bad mood, and I felt they deserved to know the reason why. I didn’t let them off the hook: I told them that it hurt me a bit that they didn’t bother to say ‘happy birthday’ to me until 7:30 pm, but I also told them that I love them and I wasn’t really all that upset with them, since they’re just kids. Then we went to dinner. They didn’t even run off to play video games. They sat and we talked and had a nice time.

And this morning, when I got home at 6:15, my kids were awake. They took me into the dining room, where there was a plate of rubbery scrambled eggs, cold, hard toast, a bowl of soggy cereal, and a glass of iced green tea. My son had set his alarm to 5 am. He got his sister up after I left, and they made me breakfast.  As I ate, they went into the kitchen, and came back with a plate containing the heel from the loaf of bread, with five lit birthday candles on it.

They made me make a wish as I blew them out, but I didn’t. I had everything I needed right then.

It was the best meal I’ve ever eaten. I’m truly blessed.  Thank you Fred. Thank you Zoë. I love you both so very much.

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*The gear thingys connected to the pedals.

Thursday, June 25

This morning’s ride: 1:01:47 Distance: 15.07 miles Average: 95 RPM

The radio went on at 5, just like it always does. I laid in bed waiting for the local insert, which would give me the morning’s weather so that I’d have a better idea what to wear. I drifted off until I heard the familiar voice say “currently, partly cloudy and 62 degrees at six-oh-five.”

6:05? How’d that happen? It felt like I’d just blinked away an hour.

But the kids are both off school, so I only had to worry about getting myself out the door, so I got myself dressed, climbed on my bike and hit the road. Fifteen miles for my fiftieth birthday. Yay.

The route I took went past some of the biggest, most expensive houses in the area. I always imagine the folks who live there to be older, established people. More than likely, they’re all approximately my age. We’re older, but they’re established. And I started feeling sorry for myself. Here I am, struggling to buy a house that probably costs less than three months of any of these guys’ salaries, and we’re all the same age.

This isn’t how I envisioned turning fifty.

Truth be told, I didn’t envision turning fifty at all, and that may have been part of the problem. I’m not implying that I didn’t think I live to be this age. I’m saying I didn’t think at all.

Fifty? How’d that happen? It feels like I blinked away a life.

Fifty’s a milestone. It’s one of the bigger ones. The big five-oh has a lot more weight that the big four-oh. When we hit thirty, we think “wow, I’m an adult!” When we hit fifty, we think “wow, I’m almost done being an adult!”  It’s a stark realization that I have a lot more yesterdays than I do tomorrows. Eat healthy, live right, die anyways. That sort of thing.

And I know it’s only one day, and that age is a relative thing, and it’s not really how  many days we have in our life but how much life we put in our days, but turning fifty with barely a notice is hard. I’ve been trying to be philosophical about it—telling myself that most of the ‘Turning fifty’ parties I’ve been to seem to be ways to jump start a stale life, and the one thing I don’t have is a stale life, but I’m a bit sad tonight.

It would have been nice to have a party. It would have been nice to have a cake. It would have been nice to have presents.

Kind of a whiny post today, I know, but hey, that’s where I am. And, as I’ve mentioned before, it’s okay to be here. I’m well aware that it’s not okay to stay here.

I may not have as many tomorrows as I used to, but I’m damn sure gonna enjoy them.

Wednesday, June 24

This morning’s ride: 43:37 Distance 10.07 Average: 89 RPM

I barely made it up this morning. I was so tired, it took me half an hour just to break free of my bed. My comfy, comfy bed, that even now beckons to me, calls me from across the distance…

…sigh…

But I did get up, and chugged out a nice ten mile ride at a decent pace. I had originally laid out a fifteen-mile course, but I chickened out from that one, partially because I was tired, and partially because I wanted the extra fifteen minutes to get ready for work today. I had to hand-draw a map for the kids instead of leaving out my nice Google route, but fortunately, it was an easy path (Right onto Monroe, right onto Clover, right onto the canal path, right onto South Clinton, which leads me right to home), so I just drew it. And fortunately, the kids never needed it.

But tomorrow: fifteen. I still find it amazing that after just a few months of riding I’m considering ten miles on the bike to be a short ride. I’m sure that for some, it’s too short to even be considered short. I’ll bet Lance Armstrong thinks of a ten-mile ride as little more than a warm-up. But that’s not me. I’ve been on the couch with Cheez Doodle crumbs in my beard for the last–well, ever–so riding ten miles in the morning and then putting in a full day’s work still has that new-car smell to me, so I’m sticking with happy and proud.

And ambitious. I want to do more. If I’m to get anywhere, I need to be better at this. I’m walking a fine line with my training: appreciating where I am without being satisfied with where I am. Or as a friend once put it: It’s okay to be here. It’s not okay to stay here.

So if all goes according to plan, tomorrow I’ll celebrate the beginning of my fifth decade on this planet with a fifteen mile ride. Assuming that I get to bed on time.

I have yet to figure out why a bed that calls so seductively during the day seems so uninviting after 9PM.

Tuesday, June 23

Monday’s ride: 44:23 Distance: 13.7 miles Average 92 RPM

This morning’s ride: 40:32 Distance 10:07 miles Average 93 RPM I got to ride with my friend Scott this morning. What a great gift that is!

Monday’s ride was the easiest thing about Monday. My department at work is missing 40% of its staff (i.e., two people), and it was a day filled with juggling spinning things which may or may not be knives. Then after that, I stuffed the kids into the car and drove 90 minutes west to Niagara Falls, to visit my old grad-school apartment-mate and her family. They were on their way back home on their around-the-world trip, and adventure they started ten months ago, that you can read about on their blog here. And as much as I enjoyed the visit, it was hard, too.

We met at the Rainbow Bridge, and had dinner together in a welcome center. The grownups were at one table talking about life, and the kids were at another talking Star Wars. I made some wiseass comment, and she giggled and smacked me on the arm, and it was suddenly 1982. Hell, it was pretty much 1982 the minute I saw her. But it wasn’t. Let’s be clear: we were never a couple, but she has always been a good and true friend. And, she has a lot of great traits-like energy, empathy, and the ability to live joyfully in the present. These are the qualities I would like to find in someone. Especially if that someone is me.

And her family is wonderful. Her husband David is a great guy–conscientious, devoted, and funny–the sort of guy you’d love to hang around with. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Ben much since most of my Star Wars knowledge ended shortly after the Battle of Endor, but he and Fred seemed to hit it off quite well, and I’ve no doubt that these two really cool people are doing a tremendous job raising him.

I haven’t heard much from them in the past few years, and that’s all on me. We moved a couple of times as my family disintigrated, and she couldn’t keep up with all the address changes. I spent a couple of years just white-knuckling my life, and things like old friends sort of fell to the wayside–along with things like address books and phone numbers. So how cool was it when she finally got in touch with me last week? Very cool, indeed.

Where was I? Oh, yeah: 1982. I was having a meal with an old friend. One who I missed, and whose life was a marvelous adventure–and I had about 100 minutes with her and her family. That’s about enough time to exchange our life stories in the broadest senses, and little more. It was a school night, and they were going to be off on the last leg of their journey back to British Columbia, and there were entreatments to stay in touch, and then it was back home again, to arrive close to midnight, and to rise at 5 (okay, 5:30 this morning) and start my life again. Not enough time. So, it was hard.

And if Heather was to read this, she’d probably chuckle, and if she could, she’d bop me on the arm again for being such a sop, and she’s right. I’m living a grand adventure, too. I need to enjoy myself, and the people around me. And if I only had 100 minutes with them, well, that’s better than having none, and who knows what tomorrow will bring?

Well, it will bring at least a dozen miles on the bike for starters. Bedtime. 

Sunday June 21

This morning’s ride: 1:00:31 Distance: 15.07 miles Average: 94 RPM

One nice thing about riding for an hour is that I don’t have to do any advanced math to figure out my MPH. “Advanced math,” in this instance, refers to any calculations that my 13-year-old son can do faster than me. Which is most of them.

I tried a new route this morning. I used the Google maps to plan out my routes. they’re very good at plotting distances. What they’re not good at is tracking rides that don’t go over roads. This morning, I rode a large chunk on the canal path, so it was an estimation that turned out to be pretty darned accurate. I’ll ride this one again. Maybe next time it won’t be so humid. And hopefully less puddles too. I had my–erm–undercarraige splashed a good many times today.

After the ride, I got the kids, and we saw a movie, and then played and hung around for the rest of the day. My father’s day gifts were: from my son: A DVD slide show he had put together from pictures of last August’s vacation trip, which he had entitled ‘Good Times,’ and from my daughter: a coupon book good for things like stopping fighting with her brother. I have great kids–they’re the best Father’s Day gift I could ask for.

Saturday, June 20

We now rejoin our program, already in progress….

Thursday: No riding

Friday: Morning ride: 42:47 Distance 10.07 Miles Average 90 RPM.  Evening rides combined: 5.5 miles

Saturday: No riding

I need to sack it up and take the bike down to the basement on rainy days Either that or I need to get some serious foul weather gear.  It sucks, I know it sucks, but I need to do it anyways. I can’t just groan and put my head back down on the pillow. That’s what I did on Thursday. Friday was a good morning’s ride. I had planned on riding with my friend Scott again, but he was up too late, so he sent me a text stating he was up too late. He did that because I sent him an email telling me to do that if he was going to be up too late. I had set my phone on vibrate, so I figured it wouldn’t wake me up if he texted me, and it probably wouldn’t have, if it wasn’t for the fact that when I went to bed, I put my phone right on top of this plastic container half-full of batteries, which amplified the buzzing so much it woke me up. So now I was up too late, too. But I did ride anyhow, so there was at least a bit of sacking there. The evening ride was a bonus–I had enough time between my regular job and my evening gig to ride my bike there and back. I didn’t take my Forerunner with me, so I didn’t know how fast I was going, but I do know I rode more than 2.5 miles in less than ten minutes each way, so it was a good ride.

It’s raining again today–one of those cold, heavy, relentless rains, so I didn’t ride my bike to my meetings. Plus, my daughter had a poetry reading at a bookstore right afterwards, and I didn’t want to miss it so there was no riding again. Tomorrow’s Father’s Day. The kids are at their mother’s this weekend, but as per our divorce agreement, I get them back before the evening. I’m planning on getting up early enough to have a good long ride, and still be able to have some fun with them during the day.

All in all, not a bad life. Sack or no sack.

Wednesday June 17

This morning’s ride: 58:36 Distance: 13.59 miles Average: I don’t know. It’s raining and it’s night and I don’t wanna go look. Someplace near 90RPM, no doubt.

Tried a new route this morning. I wanted to go 15 miles, but I couldn’t find a loop I wanted to ride that was that length. This one had some nice stretches. It also had some bits where I rode past junkyards and porn shops too, but there was some interesting scenery as well. Memo to me, though: Don’t ride this route on Wednesdays anymore. Instead of enjoying the park-like scenery of East River Road, I played leapfrog with garbage trucks.

Last night I had a talk with my kids about what to do if I’m not home when they wake up in the morning. I printed out a list of phone numbers, and instructions on what to do. A good friend who is also an early riser is letting me use her as the kids contact person in case of emergency. She’s a runner. I’m hoping to find her morning route, just so I can ride past her and yell at her to get out of the way. Plus, she may be in spandex.

I printed out this map so that if there was a problem, the cops would know where to look for me.I’m going to print one for every route, and put whichever loop I’m riding out where the kids can see it before I leave.

Tomorrow’s supposed to be rainy, so I think I’ll just do my old standby route, but three laps instead of two. I wonder if the girls miss me?

Tuesday, June 16

This morning’s ride: 44:38 Distance: 10.87 miles Average: 92RPM

My wishes:

• I wish there was a jacket that automatically got thinner as the day warmed up and I start sweating
• I wish that drivers would somehow gain a realization of what it feels like to have a car zoom past you going two to three times your speed a foot and a half away
• I wish that my legs would warm up faster
• I wish the rest of my day had gone as smoothly as this morning’s ride
• I wish I had Jennifer Aniston’s phone number.

Remember: it’s not all about biking.

I think I have a new favorite route. It takes me down a relatively flat stretch of road for about three miles, then up a rather insistent incline for 2.5 miles, then along the Erie Canal for three miles, and then up and down a hilly road for two miles. I love the canal, partially because it’s relatively flat, partially because there’s no cars on it, and partially because of the wildlife that I get to see.

And now that I’ve found a very nice ten mile route, I’m about to increase my morning route to 15 miles. Yeah, I’m like that. Time to start mapping.

There’s two reasons why the day hasn’t gone that smoothly: one is that the manager of my department became a dad again today (number four for the Coles! Yay!), and when he’s out, I’m sorta the guy in charge; and also one of the other people in my department is out for at least a week because she was in a cycling accident. I don’t know the details, but I do know she smashed her face up pretty good, and will be having surgery on her hand tomorrow.

It’s hard to not feel like I’ve dodged a bullet.

One of my unvoiced fears is that I’m going to have some sort of accident in the morning, and my kids will wake up and not know what happened to me. I’ve had an accident, or something. What do they do? And then the next question is: why haven’t I talked to them about this? So tonight, we’re going to have a little chat about what to do if Dad’s not there in the morning. Not the most pleasant dinnertime conversation, but not everything in life is pleasant.

But then again, some things are.