Morning Music…
Posted in Morning Music, Music
Rancid – Ruby Soho
Today in How Not To Train…
Last week accidentally became a rest week after Friday. Honestly, it was needed. I was beat up, had some life stuff going on, and training just wasn’t going to happen the way I wanted. Even after two full days off, my legs still hurt. That should’ve been a clue.
Because next weekend is also going to be goofy schedule-wise, I decided to flip the week around and do my long bike today and long run tomorrow. Seemed smart enough.
The plan was to ride the Rockford 70.3 bike course. I drove up to Rockford and was rolling by about 8:15. Unfortunately, I was hurrying because I wanted to “still have a day left” afterward. That rushing led to a spectacular collection of unforced errors.
First mistake: I didn’t bring or take any pain meds even though I knew my back would start hurting in the first hour. Which it did. It eventually loosened up, but I spent half the ride standing up to stretch it out.
Second mistake: I accidentally left my phone in the car. Not a huge issue… until it potentially becomes a huge issue.
Third—and this one was genuinely stupid—I didn’t notice my water bottle came out in the car. I noticed about two miles in that I didn’t have it. I absolutely should have turned around. Even if it added time or mileage. Instead, I figured, “Eh, I can go a while without water. I’ll just stop at a mini mart somewhere.”
Which would’ve been a great plan if there had been a mini mart somewhere. The only “town” I rode through wasn’t even halfway, and I thought, “I’m sure there will be other chances to buy some water.” Nope. Not a one. It got so bad that I was looking for any farmer with a hose on the side of the house. Didn’t see any of those either.
Hurrying also meant I didn’t check the weather carefully. Which I should have because it was 85 degrees and sunny. So now my arms and knees are sunburned because I also forgot sunscreen. Great work all around.
By mile 50 of 56, I had to stop and sit in the shade by someone’s house for five minutes because I felt faint. Pretty sure I was flirting with heat exhaustion between the heat and the no-water strategy. This was also the point where not having my phone suddenly seemed like a much bigger mistake.
At mile 53, I had to walk one uphill block because I was absolutely cooked. Some of that was dehydration, but honestly, the bigger factor was the wind. The entire second half—about 28 miles—was straight into a headwind.
I should’ve known the first half was too easy.
In the front half I was actually wondering whether I should extend the ride beyond 56 miles to hit a total time of 3:30. The universe answered that question for me. The headwind took care of any “extra miles” thoughts immediately.
So did the heat.
And the lack of water.
And the elevation.
The course map claims 1,931 feet of climbing. My Garmin says 2,733 feet. One of them is lying, and I’m siding with Garmin. It felt like 10,000 feet by mile 50.
Also, I swear there was no downhill. Mile 54 might’ve had some. Maybe. I know I sound like some old man saying they rode to school uphill both ways, but that’s what it felt like!
And despite having turn-by-turn navigation on my Garmin, I still made a wrong turn. Thankfully, it didn’t add distance because part of the course is parallel to out-and-back roads, but naturally, I’m convinced the route I missed had all the downhill sections. You can see on the Garmin file where I should’ve kept going straight instead of turning onto 70
Final numbers:
- 56.69 miles
- 3:34 ride time
- 2,733 feet of climbing
- 16.5 average speed
When I finally got back to the car, I chugged water and drove straight to a mini mart where I purchased:
- one gigantic water
- one gigantic soda
- one bag of chips for the salt
It took most of the drive home before I could even eat the sandwich I had packed.
Initially, sitting in the car, I was discouraged. The whole ride felt like a disaster. And honestly? It was kind of a disaster.
But I stopped the negative spiral pretty quickly and reframed it as a learning ride. Because it was.
Lessons learned:
- Water matters. (Groundbreaking…smh.)…My Garmin estimates I lost 2910ml of water. For someone 205 lbs, that’s 3.1% of my body weight lost and puts me in moderate dehydration. So, MORE WATER!
- I need a second bottle cage before race day.
- Sunscreen exists for a reason.
- Feeding still needs work.
- Bananas mid-ride don’t sit well for me.
- Honey packets are magical.
I also recalibrated my goals for the 70.3. This is really just a training race. I’m probably not PR’ing compared to my last 70.3, which was 12 years ago. And that’s okay. The race is basically a supported long training day.
Honestly, I’d like to ride the course again before race day if I can. I like reconning courses, and Chicago doesn’t exactly prepare you for rolling hills and endless false flats.
Once home, I took a long shower, kept sipping water, sat on the couch reading, and had a nice family dinner.
Tomorrow I’ll attempt the long run, though I may scale it back to the actual planned 7.5 miles instead of the How Not To Train version of 9.5.
We’ll see.
But I will bring sunscreen.
And water.
Artisanal Breads Cooking Class…
Posted in Food
Today I took a cooking class at a kitchen in my neighborhood. I’ve taken a few classes there over the years with mixed results. Maybe “results” isn’t the right word. Some classes have just been more useful or enjoyable than others.
For example, their Knife Skills class was excellent. My son and I once took a DIY Steakhouse class that was fine, but it was clearly designed as a date-night activity, and we were the only two people there not on dates. Slightly awkward. The same son and I also took a Bagel Brunch class that was really good. We made bagels, hot smoked salmon, cucumber salad, and herb cream cheese.
Those classes were all under two hours. Today’s class ran from 10 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Long day. But after doing it, I have a much greater respect for bakeries. Churning out fresh bread and pastry every day is not easy work. It’s physical, messy, time-consuming, and requires a level of patience I probably don’t naturally possess.
In total,we made six different breads: homemade pizza with sourdough crust (which we ate for lunch), French baguettes, Dutch oven sourdough country boules, ciabattinis (individual ciabatta loaves), a seeded “Birdsонд” batard, and brioche with a cinnamon swirl. We also got to take home some sourdough starter.
I’ve made pizza dough and baguettes before, but I never really caught the sourdough bug during the pandemic. After today, I kind of get it. The ciabattini and batard were excellent, but my favorite was the brioche. Ridiculously good.
I was seated with two younger women. I’m not the most social person in the world, but we had a genuinely nice time just chatting while making bread and eating lunch. I really do enjoy hearing about how other people live their lives. One woman was originally from Colombia, had a 9-month-old baby, and worked for a lumber company doing what was essentially actuarial analysis for forests. I didn’t even know that was a job. The other was a legal assistant who is a dedicated sourdough maker. It was interesting to hear about her job, and she was helpful when we had questions about the bread making. She wasn’t from Chicago so it was interesting to hear about growing up in other places.
Even though I’m introverted and socially awkward, I actually like meeting people. In small doses.
The three chefs running the class were wonderful. The head chef was an excellent teacher – patient, clear, answered every question, demonstrated techniques, and constantly circulated to help people. The other two handled setup and cleanup and kept everything moving smoothly. You could tell the whole thing only worked because all three of them knew exactly what they were doing.
I also took home an absolutely absurd amount of bread. I honestly don’t know if we can eat it all before it goes bad, but fortunately, they taught us how to freeze it.
All in all, a very good day.
R.I.P. Kyle Busch
Posted in Sports
When my boys were quite young, we watched a lot of NASCAR. They weren’t into baseball or football, and the Blackhawks hadn’t yet captured their attention as they would for most of their middle school and high school years. We watched the race most weeks, and each of us picked someone to root for.
The boys were bandwagon fans and picked either Jimmie Johnson or Jeff Gordon. I always picked Kyle Busch.
Earlier today, I read he was hospitalized with a severe illness, but figured it was just that, and he’d be fine. Sadly, I just read that it wasn’t the case, and he died at 41.
He will always live fondly in my memories and, as they say, I hope his memory is a blessing to his family too.
What are the odds?
Posted in Chicago
When I parked my car (on the street) last night after work, my keys were in my workout bag. Rather than get them out to lock the car, I thought, “What are the odds that something will happen if I leave it unlocked one night?”
Pretty high, apparently. You wouldn’t think I’d be the guy who underestimates how shitty Chicago is.
When I got in the car this morning, it had been ransacked. Joke’s on them, I don’t have anything of value, and certainly not in my car. They just rifled through the console and glove box. They didn’t bother taking the napkins or Chick-fil-A sauce packets.
So this leaves me with two thoughts:
- It is the craziest of odds that the ONE night I leave my car unlocked is the ONE night someone is going down the block trying doors or;
- Someone comes down the block every night trying doors.
TBH, I actually think #2 is more likely in Chicago.
In two years, my wife and I can retire and move out of Illinois. It’s a dream. All three of my kids want to live here, so I’ll never be able to leave completely. If I had my druthers, I would leave and never return. Alas, I will be born and die here. Something about Thoreau and most men living lives of quiet desperation.
Gut punch….
I was reading the Wall Street Journal this morning and saw a quick review for an upcoming sci-fi series:
Alfred Molina, Geena Davis, Clarke Peters, and Bill Pullman star in a sci-fi series about a group of scrappy seniors who band together to fight an evil force….
And there it was.
Geena Davis is now being described as a “senior.”
Not “veteran actor,” “seasoned star,” or “beloved Hollywood legend.”
Senior.
That one landed like a punch to the kidneys.
To be fair, she is a senior citizen. She’s also 10 years older than me, but still, she was one of the “it” girls when I was growing up. The Fly, Beetlejuice, and so on. Now she’s basically this generation’s version of that old lady who they can’t believe used to be hot. My Lauren Bacall. We have officially reached the point where my generation is starring in our own version of Cocoon. (but THOSE people were OLD!!!!) That can’t be right.
Anyway, I’m going to ice my knees and yell at clouds while Geena Davis and the gang save the galaxy with her AARP card.