Snowfall. For the kids, it means sledding, possible school cancellations, and snowball fights. For me, winter’s offering usually invokes a primal urge that takes every ounce of motivation to overcome. What is this primal urge I mention? C’mon dummies, everyone knows that we are mammals and one of our main goals is to stay warm and cozy. Come on, admit it, what is the first thing most of us want to do when the alarm clocks starts screaming and we know that there is fresh snow on the ground? You know, the kind of snow that needs to be shoveled or snowblowed. The kind of snow that if left alone, will form into a glacier and be there until mid June. If you are anything like me, you don’t want to disturb your nice cozy cocoon of warmth. Most of us want to stay in bed. I’m with ya brothers and sisters. For nine months out of the year, I’m usually out of bed and headed to the gym at the crack of 5:00am. I rarely miss a day. I live in Northeast, and the long spring and summer days make it hard not to attack the days ‘early and often’. By the way, the saying ‘early and often’ is local folklore and relates to a well known Boston politician who was encouraging his constituents to vote ‘early and often’. Ah, Boston politics, not quite Chicago politics, but close.
I just can’t wrap my head around it, why do I lose motivation to get out of bed once it snows? Tough Question. It isn’t the cold, I love the cold, I would rather run when it’s cold outside. Cold air can just aggravate you, heat and humidity can kill you. Cold crisp mornings and the vibrant autumn colors always seem to recharge my batteries. Virtually all of my memorable rides and runs have taken place in October and November. Although I start to scale back the intensity of my workouts once the race season is winding down in September, I usually cruise into October and November in peak shape. I look forward to and enjoy the ‘fun’ rides and runs with friends. And then BAM, the snow hits and I turn into a whiney little newbie afraid to get my feet wet. Have you seen the video of our Hash Run? I’m not afraid to get my feet wet, or have decaying leaves stuffed down my back, or drink whiskey, or wear a dress in public. But that is another story more appropriate for the leggy Dr. Melfey’s couch.
I can think of no better way to spend a nice Fall morning than heading out at first light for a run. The crisp air lets me know in a hurry that summer is over and I’m going to earn my workout that day, there are no freebies in the Fall. If I’m running in the right direction, the rising sun can provide enough facial warmth to make me wonder if I’m overdressed, but as soon as I turn to the north, I soon realize I could have used another layer. With each breath, my legs feel stronger, and soon there are drops of sweat flying off my body. The changing colors of the maple and oak leaves provide a perfect backdrop as the warm sun makes the roofs of the houses steam as if they were afire. “Enjoy the day” I repeat to myself over and over as I know the cold and snow will soon take over. The winter days eventually get so cold that I will actually drive my ‘coffin’ to run errands around town instead of riding my bike. A cyclist’s four wheeled vehicle that sits in the driveway is commonly referred to as a ‘coffin’.
I wonder what would happen if once winter arrives, I just gave up. It wouldn’t take much for me to become a sloth glued to the television. I have nice comfortable couches and a nice TV. I wonder if I took the winter off, no running, swimming, lifting, or cycling, how long it would take to permanently impart my ‘butt print’ on a couch? Don’t laugh; I have this conversation with myself every year.
Does anyone remember that scene from Animal House, when Clorette has passed out, and Larry’s evil conscience and good conscious have quite the discussion? Yes, good, that is the kind of conversation I have with myself every year. So far, good conscious has won the arm wrestling match.
Here is a sample of a typical internal conversation that takes place each December:
Good Conscious- Remember Spring comes early, you can’t miss any workouts.
Evil Conscious- Screw it, what will happen if you skip a few workouts
Good Conscious- That is how it starts, you miss one, then a few more, and so on and so on…….and eventually you’ll feel like crap.
Evil Conscious- You need a break, you work hard year round, take some time to yourself and relax
Good Conscious- Relax, that is what you do after a workout, there is plenty of time in the day to do both.
Evil Conscious- Why ruin a nice pizza, a few beers, and a plate of buffalo wings by getting up early and working out the next morning.
Good Conscious- You need to workout so all the chicks will think you are hot. (I know, do I have to say it?)
Evil Conscious- I can’t argue with that. Get going you slug.
So there you have it. Winter is in full swing. There is at least 2 feet of snow on the ground. Although I’m still not able to run, I have been banging out the miles on my mountain bike and in the pool. When the snow if right, I hit the trails for a 10 mile loop. My ten mile loop takes double to triple the energy and effort to complete when there is snow on the ground. Think riding your bike in beach sand. Ugh, Ugh, Ugh, then throw in some hills. Get it? Good. I am still hitting the gym nearly everyday, Am I in peak shape? Nah, far from it. Am I buff? Nah, far from it. Did I ‘give in’ to my Evil Conscious? Nah, no way. Does my couch have a permanent butt print dent? No way. Am I going to be ready for race season? You bet your a$$ I will.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Synergy
Synergy
“A dynamic state in which combined action is favored over the sum of individual component actions”
Woke up to 9 inches of the freshest, lightest powder the Northeast has ever seen. Shoveled the driveway as fast as I could. Mounted my new 29 x 2.5 tires on the singlespeed. Float is good. Wife took both children to visit their grandparents. Beautiful day, sunny, 28 degrees, slightly windy. Hit the road. Entered the woods, My Woods, to complete the loop, My Loop. Soft, fluffy, easy. Floated downhill the first ¼ mile. Giggling like a schoolgirl. Warm, too warm. Overdressed? We’ll see. Not a sound. Complete Silence. Snow covered trees buzzing by. Racing the shadows, the sun pacing me. Snow flying up from my front wheel. Who needs fenders. Effortless for now. Rolling over logs, sticks, rocks, suspension still locked out. Starting to warm up. Passed ‘My Spot’ where earlier last year I was glued to the ground checking out leaves. Glanced up, no leaves today, different view, no time. Crossed the small stream, stopped on the other side to listen to the rushing water. My hearing came back.. Back on my bike, dead silence again. No wind in the woods. Continued on, started climbing. Warmed up, started to sweat. Blood pumping. Bike and body in perfect harmony. Efficient, working, moving. Definitely over dressed. Opened the zipper to jacket. Heat rises, fogged glasses. Sweat dripping on toptube. Sun is still ahead of me. No animal tracks, no humans, a soft sea of white powder. Climbing, descending, floating, smiling, grunting. Falling, laughing. Wishing I had someone to share the moment with. Knowing I could never describe this experience. Attempting to jump blow downs from the ice storm. Having success, failing, sliding to the ground. White everywhere. Sensory deprivation. Playing a guessing game, when will I fall next? Stopped at the top of a hill. Savoring the views, the day. Feeling lucky. Alive. Warm. Looked up at the sky, the mix of cold air and warm sunlight was invigorating. Up the next hill, heart pumping, legs pumping, bursts of moist air being forced out of my lungs. Energy delivery in process, glycogen being used, electrolytes being burned, calories being spent, muscles heating up, everything working. Lactic acid being converted and buffered. Oxygen in, Carbon Dioxide out. Simple equation. Thinking about my 100 mile mountain bike race in Georgia this Fall. Are my competitors out on a day like today. Store this memory. I may need it someday when I need to go to my ‘Happy Place’ Sounds. What is that? Cross country skiers coming my way. I stop. We chat about the beautiful day and weather like we are residents sitting around the nursing home making small talk. The words aren’t spoken, but we know. We know we are lucky and privileged to be where we are. We are experiencing what it means to be alive. We smile, and before we part ways, we tell each other to enjoy the day, and mean it but it is overkill. We have, we are, and we will. We are part of the club. Our own club, the only members. We could have met in the summer in the same spot, it wouldn’t have been the same. Back on the bike, cold after stopping, have to heat up the engine again. Jump on Half Moon Trail, ride the familiar, now unfamiliar terrain. Crack a smile when I pass the site of the mud pit where my running club members threw mud at me during our Hash Run. Wonder where my red dress is. Warm again. Damn sun is still ahead of me. Still beating me. Laughing at me, dodging between trees, staying close enough, but far enough away. Arrive at the intersection of a main road. The noise!!!! Cars whizzing by. Trucks downshifting. Noise, too loud. Get away, cross the road. Race towards the Rail Trail. Quiet again. Enter neighborhood, enter a field and climb short hill. Big decent to the Rail Trail. Weight back, looking forward. Am I on the trail? Off the trail? Who cares. Warp speed downhill. Floating. Rooster tails from both tires. Giggling again. In control, totally out of control. Wide open, blazing a trail in an open field. Alive. Stop at bottom, look back up. A single 5 inch trench cut into the virgin powder. Sun glistening. No camera. Wouldn’t do it justice anyway. Laugh at the thought that most will have no idea what made that track. People don’t ride bikes in the snow. hahaha My secret. Rail Trail, 1 ½ miles to my house. Unplowed. Deep. Soft. Cross country ski tracks. Someone beat me to it. Deer tracks. Turkey tracks. Deer walk in straight lines, turkeys zig zag. Flat, pumping, quiet, speed, smiles, and sweat. Arrive home. Getting the look from the neighbors. I’m used to ‘The Look’. They don’t understand. Elated but sad. Epic day that will never be forgotten, but also never duplicated. That’s OK, the next one may be better. It may be horrible. No worries. Never know if you don’t get out there. Drive. Passion. Surprises. Life.
“A dynamic state in which combined action is favored over the sum of individual component actions”
Woke up to 9 inches of the freshest, lightest powder the Northeast has ever seen. Shoveled the driveway as fast as I could. Mounted my new 29 x 2.5 tires on the singlespeed. Float is good. Wife took both children to visit their grandparents. Beautiful day, sunny, 28 degrees, slightly windy. Hit the road. Entered the woods, My Woods, to complete the loop, My Loop. Soft, fluffy, easy. Floated downhill the first ¼ mile. Giggling like a schoolgirl. Warm, too warm. Overdressed? We’ll see. Not a sound. Complete Silence. Snow covered trees buzzing by. Racing the shadows, the sun pacing me. Snow flying up from my front wheel. Who needs fenders. Effortless for now. Rolling over logs, sticks, rocks, suspension still locked out. Starting to warm up. Passed ‘My Spot’ where earlier last year I was glued to the ground checking out leaves. Glanced up, no leaves today, different view, no time. Crossed the small stream, stopped on the other side to listen to the rushing water. My hearing came back.. Back on my bike, dead silence again. No wind in the woods. Continued on, started climbing. Warmed up, started to sweat. Blood pumping. Bike and body in perfect harmony. Efficient, working, moving. Definitely over dressed. Opened the zipper to jacket. Heat rises, fogged glasses. Sweat dripping on toptube. Sun is still ahead of me. No animal tracks, no humans, a soft sea of white powder. Climbing, descending, floating, smiling, grunting. Falling, laughing. Wishing I had someone to share the moment with. Knowing I could never describe this experience. Attempting to jump blow downs from the ice storm. Having success, failing, sliding to the ground. White everywhere. Sensory deprivation. Playing a guessing game, when will I fall next? Stopped at the top of a hill. Savoring the views, the day. Feeling lucky. Alive. Warm. Looked up at the sky, the mix of cold air and warm sunlight was invigorating. Up the next hill, heart pumping, legs pumping, bursts of moist air being forced out of my lungs. Energy delivery in process, glycogen being used, electrolytes being burned, calories being spent, muscles heating up, everything working. Lactic acid being converted and buffered. Oxygen in, Carbon Dioxide out. Simple equation. Thinking about my 100 mile mountain bike race in Georgia this Fall. Are my competitors out on a day like today. Store this memory. I may need it someday when I need to go to my ‘Happy Place’ Sounds. What is that? Cross country skiers coming my way. I stop. We chat about the beautiful day and weather like we are residents sitting around the nursing home making small talk. The words aren’t spoken, but we know. We know we are lucky and privileged to be where we are. We are experiencing what it means to be alive. We smile, and before we part ways, we tell each other to enjoy the day, and mean it but it is overkill. We have, we are, and we will. We are part of the club. Our own club, the only members. We could have met in the summer in the same spot, it wouldn’t have been the same. Back on the bike, cold after stopping, have to heat up the engine again. Jump on Half Moon Trail, ride the familiar, now unfamiliar terrain. Crack a smile when I pass the site of the mud pit where my running club members threw mud at me during our Hash Run. Wonder where my red dress is. Warm again. Damn sun is still ahead of me. Still beating me. Laughing at me, dodging between trees, staying close enough, but far enough away. Arrive at the intersection of a main road. The noise!!!! Cars whizzing by. Trucks downshifting. Noise, too loud. Get away, cross the road. Race towards the Rail Trail. Quiet again. Enter neighborhood, enter a field and climb short hill. Big decent to the Rail Trail. Weight back, looking forward. Am I on the trail? Off the trail? Who cares. Warp speed downhill. Floating. Rooster tails from both tires. Giggling again. In control, totally out of control. Wide open, blazing a trail in an open field. Alive. Stop at bottom, look back up. A single 5 inch trench cut into the virgin powder. Sun glistening. No camera. Wouldn’t do it justice anyway. Laugh at the thought that most will have no idea what made that track. People don’t ride bikes in the snow. hahaha My secret. Rail Trail, 1 ½ miles to my house. Unplowed. Deep. Soft. Cross country ski tracks. Someone beat me to it. Deer tracks. Turkey tracks. Deer walk in straight lines, turkeys zig zag. Flat, pumping, quiet, speed, smiles, and sweat. Arrive home. Getting the look from the neighbors. I’m used to ‘The Look’. They don’t understand. Elated but sad. Epic day that will never be forgotten, but also never duplicated. That’s OK, the next one may be better. It may be horrible. No worries. Never know if you don’t get out there. Drive. Passion. Surprises. Life.
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