Counting on daylight's saving

Since my last post I have failed twice to answer the call of the alarm clock. Apparently public embarrassment is not sufficiently motivating. Each morning the alarm goes off I lie in bed thinking, "what am I going to do at the pool anyway?" So this morning, I'm prowling the web for swim workouts.

I get way too bored in the pool these days so I'm hoping to spice it up by having a series of workouts and also adding in some non freestyle. Butterfly work would probably only do me good!

Swimming World has a searchable database of workouts, so I might start there. The 30-min "Stay fit" and 60 min "Remember swimming is fun" workouts sound like they should be right up my alley. If that fails, perhaps I'll turn to about.com. If all goes as planned, soon I'll be reporting that I ran 3 times this week, lifted twice and yes, even got up to go swimming a few times.

The hardest part of swimming - getting out of bed

After my epic 5.85 mile swim, I decided to lay off the swimming for a while, a much deserved break I felt. Conveniently, my pool of choice, Riverbank State Park, was also closed for maintenance all of September. After it reopened, however, my "vacation" from the pool turned into a big ol' source of guilt. I put off the return till after the big biking weekend, but still, the guilt plagued me!

Finally this morning, I made my proud return to the pool, despite having to drag myself (and the girlfriend!) out of bed long before sunrise. The swim itself was not particularly noteworthy. As with all my first swims after a long break, my arms felt ready to fall off. It's amazing how all that lifting makes not one lick of difference when it comes to that first swim.

But that's not important! I got up -- that's what matters. And I'm throwing down the gauntlet by publicly declaring that I'm going to swim tomorrow morning as well. I'm hoping the public declaration -- and fear of humiliation -- will pull me out of bed tomorrow at 6:30. Here's to the experiment...

My new lucky number: 175

That's right, the girlfriend and I each rode 175 miles this weekend. And to think, it was all a big accident! If I had told her that we should do a century ride and a 60 mile tour (that ended up being 75) on the same weekend, all I would have gotten was a dirty look. I thought it was pure insanity too, but after a little thought -- and with the registrations already paid -- it seemed like a brilliant challenge!

Mind you, this was my first century ride ever. Despite the fact that my eyes were bloodshot and I opted for the subway over riding back from the finish on Sunday, I felt like a modern day, real world Super Woman.

My bike may be "cheap" by road bike standards, but Rocinante and I have officially gone the distance. Just as I was sentimental about the junker mini van I learned to drive on, Rocinante will always hold a special place in my heart, long after I've run him completely into the ground.

Out of pure curiosity I had to figure out how far 175 miles could take me if I'd ridden them straight. In fact, the distance from NYC to Boston is not much further. My muscles may be stiff and sore, and my rear my have suffered irreversible damage, but the pain only deepens the sense of accomplishment. Nothing like extreme discomfort to let you know that you're definitely alive!

My new favorite website: MyBikeLane.com

Car parked in the bike lane, forcing you to swerve into traffic? Take a picture of it, note the license plate and add it to MyBikeLane.com. I love this idea...my focus on riding over the past year has forced me out into the streets of New York where it's an every road user for himself free for all. When you're up against huge trucks and erratic cars and taxis, it's no secret that the cyclist has to be on constant alert.

The answer: take the bike lane, right? I try to take the bike lanes wherever possible, but more often than not, cars just see this as extra parking space in NYC. Of late, I've taken to 'reminding' people that they are in fact in the bike lane, not a parking spot as I cruise by. From the 125th St stop on the Metro North to my apartment in West Harlem I probably reprimanded about 20 cars parked in the St. Nicholas bike lane.

This site is probably going to be my new best friend. Makes me wish I had a camera phone!

It never ends

This is my cycling glove. I know, I know -- it's not pretty. It looks like I either (a) got in a big fight with a very nasty dog, (b) crashed and skidded on my palms, (c) got ravenously hungry while on a ride one afternoon or (d) all of the above.

As it turns out, none of the above is the correct answer. This, it would seem, is normal wear and tear. I can't help feeling a little outraged here. These gloves cost me $35 -- more than I have ever paid for a pair of gloves in my life, much less ones with no fingers and a general lack of warmth for the wearer's digits. I might add that these gloves were Pearl Izumi's. That is a reputable maker of cycling gear! I have no bones with my $60 Pearl Izumin shorts. They have (more or less) saved my tuckus from much pain and grief. But these gloves raise my ire.

I bought them no earlier than April of this year. April!!

Someone please tell me that I've been doing something horribly wrong to my gloves and that yes, they should last longer than this. The REI gloves I had previously certainly lasted no longer, but I'm pretty sure they cost $15.

Just when I thought the list of gear was getting shorter -- that my endless outlay of funds to feed my triathlon habit would soon ease up -- my gear starts to wear out! There's no justice.

Fall was made for cycling

There are many reasons to love fall, particularly when living on the east coast...fresh apples, apple pie, apple cider, hot apple cider(is there a trend here?), pumpkin patches, pumpkin pie, fresh corn, vibrant colored forests, turning off the AC, no more sweat dripping down my back while waiting for the subway...and I'll just spare you the rest, but believe me, the list continues.

Added to the list of reasons to adore fall -- the most awesome, beautiful riding weather in a fall wonderland of reds, yellows and oranges.

The girlfriend and I rode up to Cold Spring through Harriman State Park and past Bear Mountain. What a day! It was the kind of ride that just permanently marks your face with a smile -- it was challenging, breath-takingly beautiful and just, plain fun. After all those hills I feel like super woman walking down the street. "Yes, you are in the presence of a total bad-ass and don't even know it," I thought to myself while riding the train down to yoga class at Columbia University.

If only the fall could last forever!!

Where it all began

I just submitted the following in my application to be a sponsored triathlete at raceathlete.com. I was so proud, I had to repost. I can't really imagine that I'll be selected. If I were picking the athletes, I'd probably go for the cancer survivor and the couch potato turned Ironman over myself, but what the hell...why not try!

After spending four years at college during which I was always on the go, settling into the working world was no small feat. Every day, I would go to work, sit at my desk and stare at my computer. I could feel my behind widening -- evolving to fit it's new use of permanent perch -- and my mental state began to deteriorate. Fortunately, I was living in Colorado at the time, so it wasn't long before I found a goal - a means to give myself that physical challenge I'd been starving for.

The Boulder Peak!

For someone who'd publicly sworn to loathe running for all eternity, this required some backpedaling, but earning the title of "triathlete" would be worth the temporary loss of face. So I bought my first road bike for $450, a pair of $80 running shoes and some really great sports bras and I began to train, one 5 minute running interval at a time.

Several months, one diagnosis of patellofemoral syndrome, and a much firmer, happier behind later - I climbed my way up Old Stage Rode and, eventually, across the finish line.

And that was all it took. The addiction had taken hold.

Since then, I've moved to New York City, joined a cycling club, an open water swimming group and volunteered to be a workout leader for the first NYC Danskin Team in Training. I've also done a 5.85 mile swim in the Hudson, several bike tours and, most proudly, completed the New York City Triathlon having shaved over 30 minutes off my Boulder Peak time.

And I still have that $450 bike.

I would love to have more resources (ie better equipment) to feed my addiction, but I know, either way, I'm going to stick with it. I've managed to balance a career in environmental non-profit work with tri training thus far. I know I'll continue to maintain that balance because I'm determined to do so, and when I'm determined, nothing is going to stop me.

Beautiful, tough ride

The girlfriend and I paid my parents a visit this past weekend up in the Finger Lakes region of New York, taking our bikes with us. The ride was beautiful, though the weather was decidedly less so. The first hour sped by with an average cruising speed of over 20mph! We were passing those tractors and buggies (horse and buggy is as common a means of transit as car on some of the roads up here) left and right!

As soon as we turned onto Route 14, which traces the west side of Seneca Lake, things got a bit more challenging.

20 mph gusts of wind blowing due north and bikes pointing due south on a slight incline, does not a happy joy ride make. And then it had to get a little worse, with a slight, constant drizzle beating down on us. Suddenly, the 20mph speed plummeted to 12 or 13. Fortunately, we were able to make some pit stops at a few wineries along the way. The wine tastings added some much needed warmth to our ride!

Note to self: check the weather before deciding to go for an "easy" ride.