In Case You Hadn't Noticed, It's Still Hot

On Wednesday, I undertook a journey of somewhat-less-than-epic proportions (about 35 - 40 miles, sum total; I haven't mapped it yet, so I'm not sure what the whole of the damage was).

When I left home at about 11:20, the ambient temperature was warm, but reasonably comfortable.  I stopped by Fourth Street live to buy stamps, briefly visited our Market Street shop to drop off the Fourth Street Shop key, and then headed up to school in New Albany.

On the way out, the temperature remained warm but comfortable; a light tailwind gave me a welcome boost over the 2nd Street Bridge.  I rode the whole distance out in the big ring (in part because I didn't sufficiently adjust my front derailleur cable after flipping my stem, so now it makes an annoying noise when I'm riding the small ring, but I told myself it was entirely because I was feeling awesome).  I had the motivation-increasing experience several times of encountering inclines I used to consider 'hills' and finding that they weren't so hilly after all.

At school, I stopped to drop off some paperwork at the Financial Aid office, return some flagrantly-overdue library books (amazingly, I was not drawn and quartered on the spot), and grab some lunch (it was 1:20 when I walked into the campus coffee shop that closes at 1:30, but they kindly provided me with a chicken salad sandwich, a Coke Zero, and a cup of ice without once saying, "PLEASE LEAVE US ALONE WE ARE TRYING TO CLOSE," which I'm pretty sure I would've been tempted to do, but that's why I don't work there, I guess).  At around 1:40, rehydrated, re-caffeinated, and fed, I headed back out into the ...

Blistering heat?

Somehow, between around 12:44 -- when I arrived at campus -- and 1:40ish, the temperature had soared from 'tolerable' to 'really annoying.'

Oh, and the wind had not shifted, though it had picked up.  I am eternally subject to the 'headwind out, headwind back/tailwind out, headwind back' type of weather.  I am almost never fortunate enough to catch a tailwind on the return leg of any ride.

Of course, this did not immediately concern me.  I was experiencing a caffeine-induced surge of imaginary strength.  Besides, I told myself, I never mind a little headwind -- it just adds a bit more challenge to the ride.

So I cruised merrily down Klerner, turned left on Mount Tabor, left again on Charlestown and right onto Blackiston Mill -- and there I caught sight of the elusive Caprolagus Bicycularis: the fabled Bicycle Bunny that something in my nature requires me to chase.

And chase I did.

And chase.

And chase.

At first, he was but a flicker of black and white way, way up ahead -- I lost sight of him several times before I closed the gap enough to keep visual contact even around curves in the road.  I worked and worked and worked and worked, and eventually became aware that I was not, in fact, feeling so strong after all -- and then because I am stubborn and an idiot I kept working, because I was absolutely determined to catch that rabbit if it was the last thing I did.

At the Guilford Road crossing, I was one car length behind him (he was at the stop line; I was behind a a car -- I don't generally filter up to the stop line).  He got a bit of a lead after the light turned, since the driver ahead of me was totally oblivious to both the world (I think she was talking on the phone) and to the important bicycle race going on right behind her, and didn't actually get moving until someone behind me honked to let her know the light had changed -- so once again, I gave chase ... and that's how it was until Triangle road, when my rabbit skated through a light that I missed by a 'hare' (sorry, I couldn't resist).

He turned left onto Eastern; since Eastern is long and straight and I never saw him again after that, I can only assume he turned off of Eastern onto some side road somewhere.  I never actually succeeded in catching him, though I did come close.

What I did accomplish, however, was totally cooking myself.

Exhausted and marginally demoralized (though also somewhat pleased with myself for coming as close to catching the elusive rabbit as I had), I spent the rest of the Indiana portion of the ride using the magical formula: "I can make it to at least the next bus stop."  And so I did -- and the next, and the next, and then back over the bridge, into a killer headwind, grinding away at a cadence of roughly 75 in 53 x 23, telling myself, "I can always pull over and walk on the sidewalk."

And then I was over the bridge, coasting down the far side.  A stoplight snagged me at the bottom of the ramp; there, I sat in the sun, broiling (I could feel my skin burning) and also nearly out of water.

I made a pact with myself: Make it to Broadway alive, and you can ride the 23 to your appointment.

Then, because I had decided that I was going to take the bus, I made a bit of an effort between Main and Broadway.

At Broadway, I caught a bus by the skin of my teeth (no, not literally; 'teeth skitching' is discouraged by the American Dental Association).  Unfortunately, in my eagerness to sit down on my butt and enjoy some air conditioning resting my legs for a few minutes, I had misread the route marquee.

Of course, I didn't realize this until we turned onto Shelby Street.

Briefly, I considered disembarking and sending myself on a forced march to my therapist's office -- but the allure of the velvety bus seat and AC kept me in my place -- even though I quickly realized it meant getting out at Goss and Eastern and riding the climb on Eastern that is a sometime bugbear for me (the self-same climb that shouldn't be hard, but sometimes -- for reasons unknown -- is).

Meanwhile, the bus encountered a train crossing, and for once nobody complained.  I think there was a tacit agreement among the riders of said bus that it was far better to sit in the cool of the bus than just about anywhere else, right then.

All too soon, however, we had reached the intersection of Eastern and Goss.  I gathered my bicycle and my wits, and with fifteen minutes left to bang out the rest of the ride, I rolled through a left-turn light and hammered down the descent from Goss to ... a red light.

Ugh.

For some reason, getting stuck at the red light where the medical center on Eastern sits drives me nuts.  I suppose it's because coming to a full stop A) cuts short the thrill of the descent and B) absolutely destroys one's momentum.

Fortunately, although I dreaded the climb, it didn't feel like much.  My legs had recovered a bit, though I was, by now, completely out of water.

Fortunately, from Goss and Eastern, the ride to my therapist's office is only about ten minutes or so.  I made it with time to spare, which is good because I had totally forgotten to take out any money to pay her.  Oops.

To make a short story long, by the time I made it to Dottie's office, I was a sweltering mess of sweat, salt, and fatigue.  The upside was that I had reached that point at which one's body is no longer on speaking terms with one's mind, and therefore if my legs protested at being asked to the stairs, I wasn't aware of it.  I was aware only that at the top of the stairs there was water, which -- while insufficiently cold, given the egregious heat of the day -- proved suitably wet.

An hour later, I was off and running again: back to Eastern via Norris, then down Eastern to ... Dairy Kastle.  Sadly, though, I was too cooked to enjoy anything so rich and sweet as one of their delicious milkshakes, and had to settle for a hot dog and a diet Pepsi.  Then, having ingested said repast, I headed for Kroger.

It had been my intention to collect a few groceries and ride the remaining four-ish miles home -- but DD had other plans.  He texted and asked if I wanted a pick-up.  I considered, then shot back, "That would be awesome!"  Besides, I could carry more stuff that way.

Suffice it to say, on Thursday, I did not ride my bike.  Not even a little.  In fact, pretty much all I did was fold laundry and watch old episodes of Dogtown on Netflix.

There have been hotter days this summer -- and even hotter days (or at least, days just as hot) that I rode farther, like the day of the 100k.  However, excepting the 100k, there hasn't been another day this summer that I worked as hard in the heat as I did on Wednesday.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to fall -- and not just because Fall means 'cross season.  I have officially turned the corner, I am done with summer for 2011.  School starts later this month, anyway, which means I am really very nearly done with summer for 2011 anyway.

So here's looking forward to fall, the season of chilly mornings and brightly-colored leaves (my old roommate calls it the 'foliage randomization period'), of sweaters and actually having to be out of bed before 10:30 in the morning and most of all, of awesome fall bike rides.

And now I'm really going to go ride my bike, like I said I was going to an hour ago.

PS - Today's ride was much, much cooler.  Also, much less work.

PPS - My weight stands at 175.4, whence it has stood since, like, before Chicago.  I'm pretty stoked about that, since Chicago meant four days with no bike (and plenty of food), and was followed by a brief day on the bike and a wicked summer cold that took me off the bike for another three days.  This week, I'm at 3.5 of my planned 5 hours and feeling good.  With any luck, I might actually manage to break 170 before 'cross season starts.

Time to Build!

I brought the new frame into the shop to get the party started on the build. With the fork and headset, it weighs in at 4.09 lbs (around 1.86 kilos). Looks like a good starting point for a light, fast road bike. I've decided to name it 'Mercury.'

After a brief conference, Billy and I decided to build it up as a 9-speed touring bike, with a slightly more relaxed geometry than Quicksilver's and (OMG) bar-end shifters (they're a little less expensive than brifters, but won't look as wonky on the rather-more-modern-than-is-usually-my-style frame).

Billy is providing a pair of Mavic Aksium Race clinchers and an FSA carbon crankset, so the remaining parts for the build will probably run me around $300 - $400. That's a hair more than I was originally planning to spend (I was going to go with just the Mavic wheelset), but a really solid higher-end-than-I-was-expecting road machine for a total of about $500 - $600 (including the around $100 DD paid for the frame, after shipping) is actually a really good deal anyway. Next year, I'll probably stick some brifters on it and use it as my race bike.

We were planning to put a pair of older Shimano brifters (I forget the model number) on the new road bike, but scrapped that idea in favor of putting them on my old green GT, Swift -- which is becoming, in Billy's words, 'A legit 'cross bike.' I removed the old flat bar and the cables today, and Billy swapped in the drops and brifters from our spare parts bin. We'll need to order a crankset, since I'm planning on a 1x7 or 1x8 setup. The current crankset is a heavy -- and crappy -- triple.

As for wheels, I'll probably just roll with Swift's current wheelset for now. Lighter wheels wouldn't kill me, but the ones I've got aren't anchors, either. They're also bomb-proof, which is a good quality in a 'cross bike.

This process should significantly trim Swift's weight. I was amazed how much the flat bar alone weighed -- it was actually significantly heavier than the drops we've got on there now. The seatpost was also heavy. You could have used either to knock someone out (in fact, the flat bar was disturbingly well-balanced for use as a weapon -- eek!). I'm keeping the grips -- they might fit DD's mountain bike.

I think I'll see about a carbon seatpost and maybe -- if I stumble into some money, somehow -- a carbon fork (for now, I'm just sticking with the existing steel fork).

All of this couldn't be timelier, as we're seriously kicking around the idea of putting together a shop team (probably 'cross-oriented). Everyone actually seems pretty excited about it, which is awesome. The challenge, of course, will be organizing training rides, since most of the messengers (myself included) are also students -- but I'm sure we can figure something out. If nothing else, we can probably do 'cross practice on Friday after work. Fortunately, work just about two miles from the local 'cross course -- which happens to be where the 2013 Worlds will be happening, so we're all pretty excited about getting our wheels into it.

I'm pretty happy with how my life is kind of falling together right now, and pretty excited about getting more involved with 'cross racing. This means getting more serious about training, but I'm game for it.

Thus, I'm adding to my goals:
Drop 25 - 30 pounds by September (very doable)
Get the CBD Race Team rolling
Set up a weekly 'cross practice day (Friday?)

I'm thinking the 'cross practice should be combined with some kind of group outing involving significant others and beer afterwards, so nobody feels left out.

You Give Me Fever

One morning last week, our head mechanic came in with a cough.  By closing time, he was looking a bit cadaverous; the next day, he called in sick.  That same day -- Friday, in the morning, to be exact -- I developed a curious itchy sensation in my throat.

I worked all of Friday with an itchy throat and an ever-growing sinus-headachy, wheezy, puny feeling, but went home feeling optimistic about the lovely weekend forecasters were promising.  By bedtime on Friday, however, I was feeling pretty bad, though still not so bad that heading to the doc-in-the-box was a foregone conclusion.  Saturday morning, I woke up feeling just a little worse; by around 11:00, I had decided that I didn't feel up to riding even though it was absolutely beautiful out, and also that it was probably a good idea to head over to the nearby Take Care Clinic 'just to be safe.'

I arrived at the clinic with a temperature of 98.4  Since my normal temperature is rarely over 97.5, I was a little concerned, but not terribly so.  The nurse-practitioner on duty checked me out, diagnosed a sinus infection, noted that my lungs sounded a little rough as well, prescribed some doxycycline, and sent me on my way to the pharmacy, reminding me to call if things either got worse or if I wasn't starting to feel better within 48 hours.

By the time I got home, I was feeling rather bedraggled.  I went to bed with a temperature of 99.1, slept like the dead -- and awoke on Sunday feeling like the inside of a dry-rotted tire.  In the rain.  Or something like that.  By then I was running a fever of 100.3, and I felt like I was breathing through a straw.

Later that morning, my temperature was hovering close to 102 degrees Fahrenheit, and I felt thirsty enough to drink the Great Lakes dry.  Within the course of the day, I took a really long nap, then downed basically an entire half-gallon bottle of Gatorade, plus assorted glasses of water, iced tea, and lemonade.  Since my fever showed no sign of abating, and indeed seemed determined to keep on climbing, DD and I both began to worry.

After some debate (more in the vein of 'should we call, or just go straight to the ER?') DD and I started trying to call the Take Care Clinic, which actually proved to be rather a challenge.  When we finally managed to get through to them, it was around 4:00 in the afternoon.  The nurse-practitioner sounded pretty concerned, decided to prescribe a steroid, and debated switching my antibiotic prescription to Levaquin.  She was concerned that I might have pneumonia (again) and said that I should head to the ER if the initial steroid dose didn't start improving things in pretty short order.

DD went out and picked up the methylprednisolone dose-pack for me, which I greatly appreciated.  While he was out, my temperature peaked at just over 102, and I started sweating like crazy -- like, hard-sprint-in-July crazy.  I was extremely happy when DD came back, owing both to the simple comfort of having someone you love near when you're sick, and to past experience, which has dictated that in situations like this, steroids are extremely effective in getting my lungs to straighten up and fly right, so to speak.

After much sweating and a ridiculously-hot bath, my fever broke, dropping my temperature back to a more tolerable 99.6, though it climbed back up to 100.9 by bedtime.  I slept pretty well, though several coughing fits woke me up during the night.

This morning, I woke up with a temperature of 97.1, and it has been no higher than 98.4 all day, which is a vast improvement over yesterday.

So why am I writing about all this?  Partly, I suppose, to satisfy a kind of morbid interest in human disease modeling.  I was really surprised by how fast this thing came on -- though it's possible that it had some kind of 'incubation' period -- and even more surprised at how aggressively it progressed.  I'm curious how B, our head mechanic, is doing (I actually *GASP* called in sick to work!).

Partly, though, I'm writing about this because it's worth noting that, while I'm still more prone than most to respiratory infections, it does seem that cycling has done my immune system a world of good.  The last time I ran into an aggressive infection like this one, given almost exactly the same course of treatment, it took nearly a week before I felt semi-human again.

At the moment, I'm still subject to violent coughing fits -- though I also think that cycling has improved the function of my respiratory system in such a way that those coughing fits are doing their job, clearing stuff from my lungs, instead of just nearly breaking my ribs for no good reason -- and I still feel pretty puny (I almost washed a dish this afternoon, then realized I actually wasn't up to doing that much just yet, LOL).  However, I feel about 60% normal right now, which is really pretty surprising.  I'm hoping by tomorrow I'll make it up to around 80%, so I can get my butt back on the bike.  (Sidebar: If I continue at this projected rate of 20% gain, I can expect to feel about 160% normal by Saturday, whereupon I will find a nearby race and dominate the by-our-lady out of it.)  In reality, that might be asking a bit much, but we'll see.

Perhaps just as importantly, the fact that I'm now used to feeling pretty darned good, physically, made it pretty easy to tell when things had reached that 'better safe than sorry' break-point.  I've found riding provides handy little reference-points -- I knew on Friday that things weren't quite right when I was feeling a bit washed out and wheezy during the afternoon scheduled runs that I ride pretty much every day.  Moreover, the moment I realized that I didn't feel up to taking a ride with DD on a mind blowingly-beautiful day in late January was the same moment I realized I needed to go to the doctor.

I may be conflating correlation and causation, here, but I can say that both my health and my awareness of said health, not to mention my fitness, have improved dramatically over the course of the past year, during which time my bike-usage has also increased dramatically (as has the population of my bike-stable, LOL, which now consists of three bikes that I actually own -- though only one of them counts as a fully-operational road-worthy bike at the moment, while one is still an embryonic, wheel-less frameset -- and, by extension, DD's assorted machines).

I'm currently deciding whether to try to work tomorrow or to play it safe and stay home.  I guess that will ultimately depend on my ability to breathe at around 4:45 PM today, which is as late as I can safely call up JP at work and say, "Ohai, I can haz nuthor sick dai pleez?"  We shall see.

I guess the whole point is that, at least from my perspective, cycling is paying some very measurable dividends (beyond being tons of fun and a good way to spend all that extra money we all have lying around right now ;D).

I think I have now used up my coherent-thought quota for the day, so back to reading the internets...

Cognitive Dissonance

I'm racing on Saturday, so I picked up my team kit today. Of course, I had to try it on. Right away. While waiting for my dental appointment to begin (nothing takes the sting out of an enormous drill-and-fill job like new team kit*, I guess?).

Here's what I look like, all dressed up and ready to rock (or at least to go find my helmet and gloves, once I get done squinting at my phone):

From CyclingStuff

Here's what I think I look like in my team kit:

From No, I'm not sure what the cat is doing in the background, either. Epic backpack battle, maybe?

Here's what my legs look like in cycling shorts:

From Yes, really. That's about the size of it.

Here's what I think my legs look like in cycling shorts:

Just imagine these in cycling shorts. I'm afraid that my computer will crash if I launch Photoshop right now :D

As you can see, my perceptions might be a little skewed.

In the picture, I think I actually look pretty good in my awesome 2010-special-edition-Rogue Racing Project jersey. In real life, I'm like, "Does anyone have a bathrobe handy that I could put on over this thing? ...Because I totally feel like I'm naked." (But naked with three awesome pockets in back!)

This is what Bruce thinks of the whole matter:

a'Oh, Please.'

...So. I'm way behind on logging my mileage, though not behind at all on the mileage itself (in fact, I'm ahead).

This is because I decided to bite the bullet and take a really cool job that I was offered, which has meant re-organizing my life quite a bit. The pay is less than my old job (a lot less), but the work is more interesting and the hours are much more compatible with school, which means I can keep this new job next semester.

Moreover, I've been out playing on the 'cross course this week (yeay!) and had an exam tonight (took all of about 20 minutes, so I either aced it or bombed it). This morning I spent half an hour cleaning sand out of Quicksilver's drivetrain. Tomorrow I have work and then choir.

Life is going to be calmer, but I'm still settling into the new routine.

This weekend is Kings Cross, and the following weekend, we're installing a new Bishop (not sure whether that requires flat or Phillips...), so I'll be singing on Saturday and Sunday. The following weekend, I hope to sit on my duff and do basically nothing.

I'm going to take it easy on the bike tomorrow and basically not ride at all on Friday, so my legs will be fresh on Saturday. They've combined the Cat 4 and Cat 3 races (edit: it turns out they combined the Cat 4 Open and Masters' 35+ and 45+ divisions — much less intimidating), so I will cop to being a little intimidated — but I think I'll have fun, regardless. I'm still trying to figure out whether to ride Quicksilver or the somewhat-improved Swift (now with real 'cross tires!). I doubt I'll figure it out 'til I get there. I'm planning to bring both bikes.

Anyway, that's it for now. I'm going to try to get caught up on my mileage log, but I'm not sure I'll swing it before Monday.

Monday I have absolutely nothing going on except class, so I'm looking forward to just chillaxin' before I roll up to school.

*Except having the world's best dentist — which I do.

Also, Evidence That I Do Occasionally Think About Something Other Than Bikes...

...if not something other than transportation:

From RandomStuff

I know my handwriting is hard to read, so here's the captions:
---------------Title---------------
"Tur-bo-tile: Scourge of the Woodland"

---------------Image (right to left)---------------
Swan: "I say! Do watch out, sir!"
Rabbit 1: "That's jest un-nat'rul."
Rabbit 2: "WTF?"
Tur-bo-tile: (whistling)
Loon-esque-thing: "EH?"

Inspired by OSG's runaway tortoise.

Edit: For the record, these are notes from a meeting. As you can probably tell, it was one that kind of meeting which require the attendance of everyone in the department, but is actually relevant to maybe two people.

Otherwise, there would be actual notes along with random drawings.