This could have been my first imperial century (not in the Chomsky sense in which case it is my second) but I got a flat and was concerned with the time so I turned around in downtown Oceanside. Nice to still have that milestone for later anyway. I knew that physical training makes the miles easier on my body but it's interesting the way in which riding familiar parts of a route speed it in my mind. When I can visualize what is coming, the mind skips past them, almost jumping me forward. Part of the discomfort on my hardest rides was definitely the element of not knowing what was ahead. Something to look forward to on longer tours. The unknown ups the intensity.
Another thing I've learned is how my heart rate increases based on the length of activity. On this ride, I had already gone 65 miles before beginning my longest climb (just a mile and half, but the longest on the coast route) up Torrey Pines. The combination of the long warm up with the climb gave me a nice long period close to my previous max. I'll fix that fucking ticker yet. If the Democrats weren't such fucking corporate sucking wimps, maybe I could afford the diagnostics to find out. As it stands, it doesn't look they'll even provide a way for people like me with pre-existing conditions (hospitalization with heart disease) to get into a plan. I haven't been saying much "I told you so" to the people who thought Obama and Democratic majority in both houses would push "progressive" policies but I did tell you that the fix was in on health care as soon as Obama put that whore Daschle out there. This shit was dead before it even started. Hail Aetna.
oceanside
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
A book that I'm reading about long-distance cycling opens with a story about Fausto Coppi,a legendary Italian cyclist back in the day. A reporter asked him what it took to become a great cyclist. ""You must do three things,' Coppi said after a long pause, 'Ride your bike, ride your bike, ride your bike.'" The great Eddie Merckx (the pre-Lance/pre-marketing consensus as the greatest of all-time) offered a similar plan, "ride lots."
This advice may seem obvious, but I don't think that I instantly grasped the all encompassing magnitude of this wisdom when I began to really get into my bike. For instance, when I first started going on longer rides, I suffered from a common yet scary numbness of the junk and an annoying pain in the ass. I did some research, talked to some people and ended up getting replacing the crappy seat that came on my Surly. The problem has resolved, I can feel my penis, but I suspect that much of the issue was resolved by my body becoming accustomed to the activity. Ditto for a problem in my upper back/shoulder that almost took me off the bike and made things kind of dangerous because I couldn't turn my head to the left to check traffic. I did replace my stock bars and stem with a better set up but I suspect that a lot of my new found comfort just comes from my body adjusting to the activity. I have a feeling that a lot of online discussions and bike shop queries could be replaced with Coppio and Merckx's wisdom.
This sagacity applies to other commonly debbated equipment issues. If you accidently (or intentionally, I guess) wander into hardcore bike geek discussions, you'll find endless angst about component weight, calculated down to the gram when for most, the biggest reducible load on the bike is found in the rider's own girth. My own bike weighs about 28 pounds stock. The total weight of my bike plus rider has decreased 60 pounds since I got it, a loss not attributable to any ultra light components but to another result of following the above dictum.
Yesterday I gave myself a time limit to get as far up the coast as I could before turning and heading home. I made it almost to Carlsbad and logged 73.5 miles. The climb back up to Torrey Pines is a highlight of the coast route. Last week the grade was freshly chalked with inspirational messages, apparently a dad was doing a birthday ride and his kids drove the route and wrote things like "almost there" and "sprint for the top Dad!" It was either very foggy out or these kids have a sick sense of humor because "almost there" wasn't even half way up. The messages were still there but I wasn't fooled this week. Little fucks.
Here's the route:
leucadia
This advice may seem obvious, but I don't think that I instantly grasped the all encompassing magnitude of this wisdom when I began to really get into my bike. For instance, when I first started going on longer rides, I suffered from a common yet scary numbness of the junk and an annoying pain in the ass. I did some research, talked to some people and ended up getting replacing the crappy seat that came on my Surly. The problem has resolved, I can feel my penis, but I suspect that much of the issue was resolved by my body becoming accustomed to the activity. Ditto for a problem in my upper back/shoulder that almost took me off the bike and made things kind of dangerous because I couldn't turn my head to the left to check traffic. I did replace my stock bars and stem with a better set up but I suspect that a lot of my new found comfort just comes from my body adjusting to the activity. I have a feeling that a lot of online discussions and bike shop queries could be replaced with Coppio and Merckx's wisdom.
This sagacity applies to other commonly debbated equipment issues. If you accidently (or intentionally, I guess) wander into hardcore bike geek discussions, you'll find endless angst about component weight, calculated down to the gram when for most, the biggest reducible load on the bike is found in the rider's own girth. My own bike weighs about 28 pounds stock. The total weight of my bike plus rider has decreased 60 pounds since I got it, a loss not attributable to any ultra light components but to another result of following the above dictum.
Yesterday I gave myself a time limit to get as far up the coast as I could before turning and heading home. I made it almost to Carlsbad and logged 73.5 miles. The climb back up to Torrey Pines is a highlight of the coast route. Last week the grade was freshly chalked with inspirational messages, apparently a dad was doing a birthday ride and his kids drove the route and wrote things like "almost there" and "sprint for the top Dad!" It was either very foggy out or these kids have a sick sense of humor because "almost there" wasn't even half way up. The messages were still there but I wasn't fooled this week. Little fucks.
Here's the route:
leucadia
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Thursday night, I went with Lizz and Beau to the Battle for San Diego, a regional competition and fundraiser for the San Diego slam team, who are in West Palm Beach for the nationals as I write. It was the first time that I've been down to Evoke to see the new slam/space and I can confirm that things are in great hands. The joint was packed and the crowd was young and enthusiastic. It was all good as far as I'm concerned. I think that the event benefits from the fact that it is being conducted by someone who isn't jaded and heard it all already because while most of the poetry isn't something that you wouldn't hear in every other venue across the country, it is new to the kids that are attending the slam and that is probably the point.
Toward the end of the old slam, while I was using the mic as a forum for some radical politics and lifestyle choices, and my eventual frustration with the constant emulation/repetition of standard HBO Def Poetry forms was probably evident to the audience, at the new slam, Chris and Kendrick let the kids believe that they are viewing something new and exciting and that's fine too. Back when Pat and I were participating in the formative years of American punk (pause for pat on the shoulder), the last thing we would have tolerated was some old curmudgeon from the past telling us how we should do it. So good job Collective Purpose and good luck San Diego in West Palm Beach.
Yesterday, I took a fairly leisurely 65 mile ride up the coast and back. It could have been longer but I got a late start due to meandering around trying to fix a stripped seat clamp (thanks Cal Coast Bicycles) so I just cruised up as far as I could within some time constraints. The coast route is pretty reliable, even in the summer it doesn't get too hot and as it is really popular with the roadie crowd, traffic is pretty tolerant of bikes. It isn't all fun and sun along the beach-- climbing Torrey Pines in each direction is a big pull but the scenery is great (except for the constant litter of Gu wrappers-- maybe there should be a spandex/carbon fiber tax) and if you need to pull over and rest, you are doing it on a beach. This length has become pretty routine to me, so I need to either lengthen it, ride faster, or go over those fucking mountains again to get a good torture session.
cardiff
Toward the end of the old slam, while I was using the mic as a forum for some radical politics and lifestyle choices, and my eventual frustration with the constant emulation/repetition of standard HBO Def Poetry forms was probably evident to the audience, at the new slam, Chris and Kendrick let the kids believe that they are viewing something new and exciting and that's fine too. Back when Pat and I were participating in the formative years of American punk (pause for pat on the shoulder), the last thing we would have tolerated was some old curmudgeon from the past telling us how we should do it. So good job Collective Purpose and good luck San Diego in West Palm Beach.
Yesterday, I took a fairly leisurely 65 mile ride up the coast and back. It could have been longer but I got a late start due to meandering around trying to fix a stripped seat clamp (thanks Cal Coast Bicycles) so I just cruised up as far as I could within some time constraints. The coast route is pretty reliable, even in the summer it doesn't get too hot and as it is really popular with the roadie crowd, traffic is pretty tolerant of bikes. It isn't all fun and sun along the beach-- climbing Torrey Pines in each direction is a big pull but the scenery is great (except for the constant litter of Gu wrappers-- maybe there should be a spandex/carbon fiber tax) and if you need to pull over and rest, you are doing it on a beach. This length has become pretty routine to me, so I need to either lengthen it, ride faster, or go over those fucking mountains again to get a good torture session.
cardiff
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)