Tag: Biking

Social Studies, Part II

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Spin Class offers me 60 minutes of physical torture by an aforementioned hot, bald instructor who seems to think that intervals… while on a hill… to exceptionally good and varied music… are fun.

Well, then.

I will agree that they are fun, provided you are in *my* spin class.

Oh! The drama!

The drama of my spin class is second only to Telenovelas, spanish (Mexican, specifically) soap operas where the acting vies with the clothing for “worst” lists.

Last week, we saw our gearhead making eyes and conversation at the hottie blonde who spends all of her time watching herself in the mirror — until her water bottle was filled by the SpinClass Regular (who is, it must be noted, significantly taller — though I would not personally agree significantly hotter). Last night Gearhead positioned himself exactly opposite Hottie, and also in line with Regular, so as to watch the two of them. When he wasn’t bent over listening to “Renegades of Funk” by Rage Against the Machine on Level 4 2minutes Hill at 100rpm, he was in fact eyeballing the two of them, as I am wont to do, attempting to figure out the nature of their relationship.

Regular will never hold a candle to the mirror, for her, as far as I can see.

We had another packed class, with a male person who can only be classed as Junior to me (because he was so clearly so: look sonny I get that you think I’m cute and I get that I’m on the bike right next to you and I totally get that we have the same taste in music — but– I’m not so much for conversation that is punctuated with “ya know” and “i like said”) taking every opportunity to talk about the music, grade, my gear, and clippie shoes.

We had an excellent sound track, which normally I’d class a 7 out of 10 but this was an overwhelming 9.3.

And we have some new faces I hope to see in future classes: the Frat Boy, who is clearly in Spin Class because beer has caught up to him. His Buddy, who is clearly in Spin Class because Frat Boy has convinced him you get hotties that way (FB and Buddy made a play for the Blonde Hottie and got totally and irrevocably shut down when she completely ignored them) (They then spent 10 minutes pre-class talking to the Frat Girl that was there, who I would say is charitably pretty). The Old Gent who is there to Do Something About It and took, very good naturedly, to the music of the class. And then we have the Proto-Geek, whom I’ve seen on occasion who knows all of the Alternative and most of the Electronica and is at a complete loss when it comes to the Grunge and Rap, but, I think, is flirting with my Hot Instructor.

It’s amazing how much you can see when you’re avoiding the singing, searing pain in your thighs on a bike.

Social Studies

BobbieLeave a comment

I get to spin class early enough to get the BEST BIKE. The best bike is in the corner, so it’s not too near the bikes next to it. It’s ideally situated across from the mirrors so you can see the entire class. It’s situated such that you can totally check out the instructor, who is scathingly hot (and bald).

It’s also excellent to watch people.

There’s the 50-something lady with the little bike tattoo’d on her ankle, who cheers whenever intervals come up. There’s the skinny tall elderly man, who has clearly been doing this for a while; there’s the hottie who parks herself smack next to the mirrors and WATCHES HERSELF THE ENTIRE TIME. I can’t blame her, if I had that body I’d watch myself the entire time too. There’s the spin-class regular (tall, skinny) who overdoes everything and goes to fill her water bottle even at expense of his timely start. There’s the shorter, just-as-hot spin class regular (with his own official jerseys) who is attempting something with her and just discovered last Monday that she’s already got something (sort of, but not really) for the water-bottle-filler.

There’s the executive who hasn’t been in 2 months and yet expects nothing to have changed, there’s the overweight Microsoftian who is Doing Something About It. There’s the housewife who is there to keep in shape, and the one who just arrived on the scene to start keeping in shape. There’s the couple of college kids who can probably eat an extra 3 bowls of Lucky Charms with every meal as a result of this class, and there’s the elderly man whose Doctor has clearly told him to Do Something.

And then there’s me. I still sing to all the songs, and I’m sure it’s an eye-rolling thing for them.

Gearing Up

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I now have such accoutrements as bike shorts. They are padded, so it’s a bit like wearing 1980’s spandex shorts with Depends built-in. I must say they do their darndest to compress and streamline, but they also are unforgiving to those of us who, in the immortal words of Mr. Mix-a-Lot, have “got back”.

What I still do not have are clippie shoes, and now I am without a helmet thanks to last weekend’s bike accident. I am ordering and procuring and so forth, and intend to ride this coming weekend (borrowed bike and borrowed helmet, and yes both owners know I have bike wreckage issues).

Tonight will be my first night back at spin class for a week; let’s hope the instructor has pity on me. If he’s really mean I’ll scare him off with my bruise.

Padding. Cushioning. Other Forms of Support.

BobbieLeave a comment

Riding 25 miles when you haven’t really done more than 12, ever, is an interesting thing. First off, I will say that gear is very important, and I have practically no bike-specific gear, except the bike and a helmet and some padded gloves. I spent Saturday afternoon searching the internet for gel-padding seats. I wasn’t sore on Sunday. I was sore on Monday.

One would think that at my height and build I have plenty of padding, thank you, but apparently not, as after I got off the bike in the Starbucks’ parking lot I literally stumbled. Dozens of “serious bikers” had passed us and I fully intend to get all of the gear the other kids have: shoes, padded seats, better glasses, padded shorts, a holder for my bike pump, padded gloves, a jersey or two, did I mention padding?

Spin class tomorrow has *nothing* on that ride.

Or the thirty miles we’re doing Sunday.

I looked at last year’s route: the largest elevation gain en route is an area over 10 miles and goes up 800 feet. For those doing the math with me, that is 800 feet up over 52 thousand feet out, or 8 feet up over 520 feet out, or 1 foot up over 65 feet out. This is miniscule compared to the hills I’ve had to practice on around here, which have a 9% plus grade. (Grade=rise/run; so the grade on the “big hill” of the ride is 800/52800, or 1.52%). The big issue with this ride then is distance, not stress to the knees: it actually ends up being some 260 miles between the two days, from Vancouver down to Seattle.

I have to be careful, though, to not make the same mistake I made last March: when I was training for the Whidbey Island Half Marathon. A bunch of us signed on to do it, and we had heard a reputable rumor it was “practically flat”. Oh, no it wasn’t. A month before race day a couple of enterprising spirits went out and drove the course, and a week later dropped out. I’d be lying if I said it was anything more than sheer fiscal prudity that kept me in. That sort of thing is not a welcome surprise.

The question remains though: which padding do I purchase *first*?

Going The Distance…

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… but not so much on the going for speed…

Today we did 25 miles from the Third Place Books in Lake City to Redmond, and back. I teased Duncan the whole way: “Are we there yet? I have to pee. Can we stop for a coffee? Can we stop for a beer?” We were also consistently having to contend with “serious cyclists” (ones with fancy shoes and fancy gear and going way over the 15mph trail speed limit, I’llhaveyouknow) and mommies with strollers (usually 2 or 3 abreast on the  narrow trail). We did beat our official “training pace” of under 10mph, though, and despite some wonky gear shifting (mine… of course) I think we did pretty well.

Apparently next week I’m on the hook for 30 miles. Um… yeah!

Raising Funds… and the bar

BobbieLeave a comment

No, not “the bar” as in where you go and get something to drink. The bar as in the expectations level. As it’s review time we’re expected to look at our work achievements and how we can do better in future; some of us treat our personal lives the same way. But biking 63 miles each day for 2 days straight is a bit much for someone who has done, at max, 12 miles in one day (and whose buttocks, if I don’t mind saying, felt like they wanted a divorce when I was done) (They didn’t leave, however, and so I feel like I won that round).

Next weekend starts the long bike rides of training, apparently with a 25-miler. For those of you keeping track, 25 miles from my house and you’d wind up in Downtown Seattle. 25 miles is a LONG WAY. 25 miles is exactly twice as far as I have ever biked, ever. Ergo, I will be searching for bike shorts (padding is NOT optional) and assorted comfy-gear in the next few days.

That said, I’d like to thank those who have donated thus far — it’s amazing how quickly that little “money thermometer” jumps! Thanks to KC, SMS, LC, and MT for your awesome support!

Shifting Gears

BobbieLeave a comment

The one thing I really suck at is shifting.

When I was training for the triathlon last Summer, my sister (to be… she did say yes, so she’s stuck) coached me through the motions.  “Left–down a couple! Right — up one!” If it hadn’t been for her I would’ve bike-walked the triathlon I swear.

This was naturally brought home as I took the bike out for its first run since September 20th– this morning.

If you live in the Seattle area — or any of its suburbs– you know that it is replete with hills. Big hills, little hills, hills that climb on rocks. Lots of hills. If you ride a bike, hills are not fun.

You see, there are two sets of gear wheels on a bike: little teeny wheels up to big wheels on the back-end, and but 3-changes-of-gears (wheel sizes) on the back-end. The general idea is to keep the chain line straight between these two sets of wheels whence you shift. However, this requires you bend your head down and actually LOOK at what you’re doing, which necessitates removing your line of sight from the road, which is where things like potholes and cars are.

It’s a lot like juggling projects, but with much more immediate results.

I rode six miles this morning, at an appalling time of about 30 minutes. I rode past a speedometer rated for cars (you know the sort– they tell you you’re going 40 –and flash — while you’re going past a church or somesuch) and it told me I was going 15mph. I paused to consider what “biting it” at 15mph would do to me on this bike.

Then I kept coasting. It wasn’t worth the worry, really.