Alaskan Pack Fodder

Moments before I walked out to the garage to get on the trainer, the youngest ran out of his room and began puking on the kitchen floor. I appreciated his aim, as the carpet has seen its share of abuse over the years from other kids and pets. So, wearing my cycling kit and shoes, I knelt on the floor and cleaned up the mess. He felt better, and climbed into my spot in bed next to my wife.    My start delayed, I jumped right into ignoring my training plan. At about the halfway point, just after a sprint to take a virtual green jersey that means nothing, I started to notice I was sweating a lot more than usual. I pushed on, proud of my newfound ability to make my fat cry. Two-thirds of the way through, it was literally pouring off me in steady streams, and I began to worry. I had already downed a 28oz water bottle, and that almost never happens in under 45 minutes.    Then I noticed my useless SAD light was off, which indicated my fan was o...

The downside of hacking the Zwift world calendar is that when everyone else shows up to your little private world, there's an inflated sense of outrage. You wish you could sit in a virtual rocker and yell at all of the kids on your lawn. How dare they clutter up your own private sanctuary?   I feel the same about cars when I'm out riding in the real world. Illogical, I know, but people can be entitled little creatures. If they like something, even if benefits nobody else, then it should obviously be the norm.   Sufficiently outraged, I wove my way through the virtual global village. I punched it at the same places I do when I'm all alone, and strangely enough, I was slower. Even though I had the benefit of "drafting" and the other riders around me, I just couldn't bring myself to push it any more. Maybe I was cooked, but I think it was mostly mental. I couldn't focus as much as I can when it isn't crowded. I'm always distra...

I resisted it for a long time. I suffered through it for the most part, occasionally altering my schedule so I could avoid the unpleasantness.    Sunday I finally did something about it.    I hacked the world.    Zwift publishes the course schedule every month. I look with dread at days slated for the London or Richmond courses, which I find mind-numbing. They drain whatever enthusiasm I bring into the trainer dungeon. Still, more often than not, I'd slog through my least-favorite courses, telling myself it would make the Watopia course more special. It would keep it from getting stale.    I was lying to myself.    No matter how many additions to Zwift they make, my enthusiasm's shelf life will always outpace their coding abilities. Let's be honest- it's still the trainer. They could have naked women burst out of the screen every lap and I would still get bored eventually. Man, I am getting old. At this point, a bowl of w...

Friday I felt great, pushing harder for the first time in I don't know how long. It felt incredible, burying myself in an effort like that. After months of steady upward progress, this was the payoff. This was what I wanted.   The next day I was deflated. Burnt out in a most profound way. I slept late into the day, hoping to recover enough to manage some kind of workout. It never happened. I stumbled around aimlessly, not managing much enthusiasm for anything.  Eventually I threw in the towel and went back to bed.   Sunday dawned and I sprung out of bed. No, that's a lie. I'm old, and springing no longer resides in my tool kit. I creaked, popped, and groaned out of bed, but with more vigor than I could muster the previous day. When I got on the trainer, I knocked out some pretty credible numbers. Crisis averted. Ship righted. Full speed ahead. Everything is going to be just fine.   Today I crashed again.    After all this steady progr...

Last night my wife brought home a four-month old baby.    I'm not going to get into the back-story, because of privacy concerns and the fact it might drive me to homicide. I was already contemplating the very many places Alaska provides to dig a shallow grave, and how the native wildlife can be a real help in disposing of evidence.    It was a one-night affair, while other arrangements were made. I was good with the finite nature of the visit. It was kinda like being a grandparent, or in this case, a great grandparent, because I am old and the mother is very, very, very young. I gotta admit the kid was pretty cute, and relatively well behaved. Couldn't carry on an intelligent conversation to save his life, but at least he could hold his head up unassisted. He was at that magical age where you could set him down and go out for a beer or two, and a couple hours later he'd still be in exactly the same spot. Not that I would, but it's always nice to have that capab...

There's an old, long-sleeved, fleece jersey hanging from a hook next to the trainer. One shoulder has a few small holes in it from that time years ago when I was riding the TT bike and went down in some early-season gravel. Sometimes the hook pokes through those holes, making it harder to remove from the bike.    Sometimes, on particularly cold mornings, I'll put it on while I'm warming up on the trainer while the computer boots up and Zwift loads or updates or whatever else needs to be done at the worst possible moment. Five minutes later I'll shed it as I settle in. Five minutes later I'll turn on the fan just before I start to sweat. There have been times where both of these waypoints have been reached before I ever make it onto Zwift.    The jersey doesn't look all that great. It doesn't smell all that great. either. I occasionally use it as a towel to wipe the sweat off my face, then forget to wash it for a couple months. To wash it would likely doo...

As I mentioned yesterday, my performance numbers keep creeping up.    Unfortunately, they're not alone.    My weight this morning was 15 pounds heavier than it was the day I smacked into the pavement. 15 pounds in less than four months.    Initially I didn't gain any weight. I wasn't burning many calories and I didn't change my eating habits (if it came near my face I was having a few bites), but nothing changed.    One day it started inching up. I wasn't concerned, because it was to be expected. A couple pounds is nothing. It will all go away when I get back on the bike.    When I got back on the bike, the weight kept climbing, which concerned me a bit. I started watching what I ate, which means I opened my eyes and examined the mass quantities before I shoved them in my mouth. It didn't help.    The more intensity I add, the more hours I ride, the more weight I gain. I'm not quite delusional enough to think it's m...