By the numbers

My neighbors, friends, family and coworkers all know that I ride my bike. They use it as a means to elicit conversation with me because I am not by nature an outwardly loquacious guy.  I don't mind, because if pressed  I can talk about bikes all day long, but I usually have to take into account the audience to whom I am speaking and tailor the conversation to their real level of interest. 

If I told them the absolute truth about riding I am sure they would think I was off my bean. 

I keep a log of all my rides, I have been doing this since 2005 and I will admit to you that I am a total bike dork. I keep track of everything. 

I have taken a screen shot of the last two months of this year. 

You will notice that I color coordinate to denote what type of ride. Green is commuting, Brown is a dirt ride and the Gray represents road rides. Clever I know.

So by the numbers for the year of our Lord 2011;

3800.5     Total Miles to date
162          Total days ridden (why am I not faster)
77            Road rides
85            Dirt rides
288.12     Hours in the saddle
224,871   Calories burned (why am I not thinner)
264,858   Vertical feet climbed
144          Average heart rate
17.4         Average speed road
9.8           Average speed dirt

There you have it, the reality of my psychosis. Not to shabby for an aging, slightly overweight, father of FIVE girls, with two jobs and playing a part time Mr Mom because my Sugar Sweety brings home more cheddar than I do.
I would like to take a moment and thank her specifically for being so supportive of my habits, I think it's because she knows first hand the superb ability I have to put away the calories and she does not want to be married to a chubby guy. That would be a deal breaker.

That should give you guys some more fodder for our conversations, see you in the New Year.

Peace.

Falling with style

Had a great day planned on the bike today, I was set to meet Pete at the trailhead on Navajo at 11am. I had planned to ride there from Santa Clara with Duane, ride with Pete for a a bit and then ride home.
You know what they say about the best laid plans; the only thing that did happen was that I got some good mileage in. Duane had to go do a job in Kanab and Pete had to rescue an employee from the Purgatory Correctional facility. I got his text when I arrived at the designated spot. That's what you get when you hire a guy who's nickname is The Green Mile.


Tale of the tape, still interactive.



I also read a great article this week, "The Art of The Bail."  It's a pretty well thought out piece on crashing and that 1 in 100 rides crash that is going to get you.
I have not had a legit get-off in what seems like years so I know the odds are not in my favor.

If you can't read the whole article be sure to watch the vid at the end. I gave up on airing it out just after my second knee reconstruction. My wheels need to stay on the ground now but there are some great carnage shots of guys on the Shore. Interesting to see someone else's skewed view of reality and there is an absolute do-not-miss crash at the end. Skip the hospital shots as they are kinda gory.... unless you like that thing.

The fine print at the end also says, "pretty much everyone was hurt in the filming of this video."

If your not falling your not trying.

Rub-a-dub-dub

Mi amigo Pete is always on the ball. He presented me with not one, but two Christmas gifts this past week. I wish I could say that I am as good a friend as he, but I fear I am much, much worse.

I will be reporting on both gifts as they are of such a nature that they absolutely scream "blog post".
He presented this handsomely marketed piece in a plastic bag with the explanation-- "my wife won't let me keep this in the house unless it's in a plastic bag."  Smart thinking I say as it is redolent of campfire and beef jerky, very manly.

I showed it to my gal and she was also repulsed by the exotic bouquet. She forbade me to use it, which of course meant that I had to do exactly that. I could not let such a thoughtful gift go to waste, so I struck out for the farthest, most ventilated bathroom in the house, the pool bath.
The bar itself is actually a deep brown color, I assume that is why grandpa felt the need to advertise that it lathers white. It foamed up well and is not totally unpleasant once you have grown accustomed to it's earthy essence.
I don't have, nor have ever had, psoriasis, scales, eczema, dandruff or any other skin conditions that the soap is purported to cure so I cannot comment on it's healing nature. I can report that I did feel clean, so it really is a soap.

I asked my wife and the two older daughters, whom lately seem to appreciate the way men smell, what they thought of the scent. Two out of three said it was disgusting, the third had no opinion.
I will keep who said what to myself.

I have returned the bar to it's plastic bag, and the bag now resides in my garage. If any of you readers find yourselves with any of the above mentioned skin maladies, give me a ring and I can let you borrow this all natural cure-all. Until then it will set just where I left it.