Addiction

I freely admit it, I am addicted.  Really have been most of my life.  It started when I was 11, the urge, the almost impossible-to- resist pull of it.

I remember wanting it so bad.  My friends were into it.  When I first got on it my parents told me the things I shouldn't do, and of course, those were the things I did first.

My mom and dad financed the addiction at first, but I had to do odd jobs to get the extras.  Paint houses, clean my dad's office, mow the yard.  But the more I did the more I wanted.  Soon I was dipping ice cream at the mall to be able to afford it.  Then cleaning up wrecked semi trailers full of stuff at a salvage warehouse.  My high school friends ( not really friends but you know) were going to football games, surfing, and doing regular stuff.  Every week I lived for Friday so I could get out and feed the monkey.

My dad said "son if we'd of known how it would turn out like this we never would have gotten you started".  He always wanted me to play golf.  Golf didn't even begin to scratch the itch I had.

College and Marriage

I did manage to get out from under it for a few years.  But it was always there just under the surface.  I tried to be normal.  I took up hunting again.  But as soon as I got a little extra cash I went to my nearest dealer.  Before I knew it I was back into it again, only bigger this time.

I drove 2 hours one way just to be with others who shared my problem.  Even changed jobs to be closer to the action.  Even traveled out west with it.  It has left me unable to enjoy regular travel since then.

The Kid

After he was born I introduced him to it at a young age.  And now he's showing the tell tale signs of the disease.

And Now

So I'm 61 and still addicted.  This disease has hurt me, even put me in the hospital, but yet I go back.  I plan my week, even my year, on being able to feed it.

On the positive side, I've met most of the friends I have because of it.  I have changed the delivery system over the past 6 years but that seems to have made it even worse.

Of course I'm talking about my addiction to two wheels.

Just For Me

Quick Recap

September 2016 was the last post on this blog.  Nobody blogs anymore.  Kinda sad really.  I found I miss this.  I'll be doing this for me, don't care if anyone else is interested.  No posting on FB or anything like that.

Let's see, back in September of last year it had been one year since I exploded my hip.  The hip is finally getting to the point I can put real pressure on it weekly without limping for the next few days. This past week has been the first whole week without some form of pain.  Muscle wise the right leg is still quite a bit smaller than the left but now that I can work it harder maybe it will catch up.

I joined a new gym and finally got some good instruction on squats that has made a difference.  I still only run on the treadmill for 5 minutes during warm up but even that seems to be getting easier.  I'm using the OMTP (old man training plan) that I have used for the past 5 years for the cycling.  It may not push me as hard as other plans but it has kept me healthy if not any faster.

Speaking of faster.  I'm not.  In fact I seem to be getting slower.  The heart rate is there but the pressure on the pedals just doesn't equate to forward motion.  Sure, I'm winning the 60+ class so far but I worry I may be facing the inevitable decline of being 61.

Should I Care?

I really enjoy the races.  I am just thankful that I can do what I can do.  If the crash taught me anything it's that life is a moment to moment thing.  It's a shame you have to get old to appreciate that. 

I'll admit to being gun shy on tricky sections while riding, especially if it's wet. If you do what

I did 19 months ago you never forget it.  At least I won't.

So I'll answer my own question.  No, I should just be glad to be doing what I do.  I am very fortunate (just not very fast).

The Kid

Will be a senior at UF after this summer.  Hard to believe.  He's letting his hair grow out.  He's doing well in school.  He doesn't realize how good he has it.  Did any of us at that age?

I'd like him to enjoy the cycling for what it is.  A hobby.  Something to look forward to doing regardless of the outcome.  Easy for me to say.

Ah, I Feel Better Already

At the race in Ft. Yargo last weekend, while warming up, I came across an old cemetery back in the woods.  The contrast between that scene and the start of the races just down the hill made me pause. We should work to enjoy as much of this time as we have, after all, it's always later than we think.

It's Been A Year

Since this happened.  Why am I smiling?  If I knew what was in front of me I wouldn't have been so cheery.  I had good doctors and The Lovely Wife to take care of me.  I managed to get back on a bike two months post surgery.  Dr. S-works was good enough to putter around with me while I attempted to get my fitness and more importantly, my confidence back.  I used the LW training plans for XC 40+ to give me some guidance and some structure.  They (the doctors) told me it would take a year to get back close to normal, I didn't believe them then, I sure do now.

I don't write much here about family issues.  Suffice to say that this year has been difficult in that regard.  We all come to these things eventually.  Still doesn't make it easy.

Fast Forward

To this past weekend.  My first race since "the incident".  

I wasn't sure where my fitness was.  I was a whole year older, which at 60 makes a difference.  I just knew I wanted to race my bike again.  So I dropped down to the 60 plus class.  I took a little ribbing about going back to the base class and just doing two laps instead of three.

The Race

I attacked early and tried to build a lead.  I had been able to handle these guys in the past (this type of thinking turned out to be my downfall).  So at the end of the first lap I couldn't see anybody behind me in my class.  For some reason I thought the Frenchman had gotten out ahead of me and I was in second.

At 3/4 of the way through the last lap I was caught up in the front of the Clydesdale class.  I just thought "I'll sit up and let these guys go at it".  All of the sudden the Frenchman takes an inside line and passes me, with the Yankee right behind.  "You've got to be kidding me!" I yelled.

I never could get back passed them and ended up third.

The Yankee in first, the Frenchman in second, the Dumbass in third

Anyhoo, turns out I'm not too fast for the 60+ class.  Maybe too stupid, but certainly not too fast.  I had a good race and I'm looking forward to the next one.

The Kid had a good race

   

Finishing up 4th in a very fast class.  I'm super proud of him!

Well That Was A Nice Break

Wow, I've been off this blog for quite a while.  Many things have conspired to keep me from sitting down and typing, and while I am not very good at this, I did miss it.  You did too, right?  Awww come on, you know you like it.

My 85 year old mother was involved in a car accident a few months ago.  She enjoyed reading this and couldn't get to her computer while she was rehabbing so I just kind of lost interest.  She's doing better now (thanks for asking).

Many of us will go through this type of thing with our parents, if you haven't already.  It's a part of life, not really much you can do about it.  It certainly can be a troubling look into our future though.

Ahhhh, future looking.  We all do it.  I find that it can make me anxious, plus I have so little control over what will happen.  The old saying goes "If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans."

And looking back into the past, well that can be a pleasant thing to do, sometimes.  Too much of it can make you melancholy and a little sad.  The past is something we can't change, only how we look at it.

Which leaves us with the present.  It's all we really have.  We should try to enjoy it.

Moving On

Anyhoo, enough with the existential bullshit.  Let's talk about me.  It's been a 10.5 months since I broke my hip.  They told me at the beginning of this journey that I wouldn't be 100% until 12 months had passed.  I scoffed at that, thinking I was way beyond the mere mortals that had gone before me. Well, they were right.  I'm just now starting to build some muscle in the injured leg.  I can jog a little but running isn't happening right now.  Burpees?  That ain't happening either.  But I can ride my bike.

Riding

On the OMTP I switched from 50 mile to XC.  Fools Gold had been my scheduled first race but I wimped out and decided to just stay in town and race the Gone Riding Florida Series race at Tom Brown.  I get to race the 60+ class this year, in fact I can race any class I want (except maybe the women's).  I can't say that I'm unhappy about not getting pummeled in the 50+ expert again.

Even with all that banter (see above) about planning I need to have some kind of a carrot in front of me to keep me motivated.  Racing at 60 years old may seem silly to some of you.  I will give it up someday I suppose, I'm just not ready yet.

Bitching

Along those lines, I was browsing the MTBR forums and came across one for 50+ riders. Oh good!  I thought, the first question was about training older riders, so I was anxious to see the replies, hoping to get some information on a subject that really interests me.  

Alas, most of the responses were about why you couldn't (and shouldn't) train, injuries, and just general bitching about getting older.  I don't do that do I?  If you look back 4 paragraphs you can see that I do. 

It taught me a lesson regarding what older athletes (yes I consider myself an athlete, regardless of what you think) present to the world.

The upside to this is that all you younger riders will have a path blazed for you as far as what you can and should do at 50, 60, and beyond.  There just isn't much out there right now, and what is out there can be disheartening.

So when you ask me how I'm doing I'll just smile and say "fine".

Please Come to Boston

It was Silk's route.  He rarely leaves his zip code so I figured it would be interesting.  In fact his truck has a layer of mildew on from just sitting for weeks at a time.

We were to start from downtown Boston Ga. at 8:30 am on a muggy Saturday morning.  Lil Ball and I were on time, seems Silk was stuck waiting for the worlds longest train in Thomasville Ga., he rolled in a few minutes late (which isn't that unusual).  He had kept the group small since we had never ridden most of these roads and didn't want to get a bunch of folks lost.

I'll admit to being a little nervous about doing 77+ miles on mostly clay roads.  The longest I had done before this was the 60 mile Dirty Pecan.  I had figured on 200 calories per hour with a resupply at the convenience store in Berlin (pronounced Burrrln by the locals).  One bottle with plain water and the other with mix.  We would rely on churches along the way for water.

So yea, we were going from Boston to Berlin by bike.

And We're Off

Like dogs just being let out of the kennel we all had to stop and mark our territory along the first graded road.  I was thankful the road had dried out since the last rain as it looked like it had been a soupy mess earlier in the week.

The dirt north of Boston goes from clay to sand the further you go, making conditions perfect after a couple of days drying.  Any drier and the sand would have been a lot more work.

We saw very few cars and only a couple of aggressive dogs, unusual for south Ga.  I was glad my compatriots weren't in a big hurry, even so, I kept my big nose out of the wind when possible.

Berlin was about half way and we made the obligatory convenience store stop.  I went for Red Bull and a bag of salty chips, Lil Ball a Mt. Dew and something from his jersey, and Silk, a Cliff bar.  I got a pretty good kick out of the junk food and felt perky as we turned and headed back south.

A Little Bit of Hate

At around 50 miles I began to run low on water, the temperature had climbed into the mid 90's, the yellow flies had started getting faster, and my seat was starting to get sore.  So I did the one thing I hate to do, I whined "Can we back it off a notch?  I'm running zone 4 back here."  As soon as I said it, miracle of all miracles, a little country church pops into view.  The other two acted like they really didn't need to stop but would do so if it kept me from complaining.

My Lord that water felt good.  And taste?  Like a summer wine!  All three of us stuck our head under the faucet and refilled our bottles.  Energized with holy water from the First Holy Neck Antioch Living Church of God in Christ we continued on.

We've Only gone 15 Miles?

I thought the route was 75 miles so at about 65 miles I started smelling the barn and getting antsy to finish.  Even though I had spent almost no time at the front I was tired.  As always, the last 5 miles of a long ride are the hardest.

We finished up with 77.6 miles and no more whining from me.  I was glad to be off the bike.  How people do 160 mile clay days I have no idea.

There is a neat little pizza place in Boston, I think it was called Buzzerlys.  Good food and a surprising beer selection.

So now we have another route to chose from.  It doesn't quite have the shade the red hills roads do but it will be fun for a change of pace.  I meant to post the route from my Garmin but somehow it wouldn't upload.  Sorry about that.

See if this works:      https://ridewithgps.com/routes/13390789

It's not exactly what we road but close.

Searching For My Lost Shaker of Salt

I took a week off with The Lovely Wife for spring break.  We usually head for the Smokies during these vacations but this year she was reluctant to go.  Something about the fact that she didn't want to have to listen to me bitch and complain about not being able to hike and bike.  She was right (as usual).  I'm not much of a sit on the porch or drive around in the car kind of guy.  I would have been miserable in my current condition.

So, we had a staycation.  I caught up on 6 months worth of yard work I haven't been able to do, was able to go riding most days (it's amazing how many people can get time off to ride in the middle of a work week), and we ate out someplace different every night.  I made it my priority to sample a Margarita at every place we patronized.  If this is what retirement looks like I'm in trouble.

Let Me Tell You About My Leg

Funny, people will ask me how I'm doing and when I begin to tell them I can watch their eyes glaze over.  I get it.  Now when they ask I just say "fine, getting better".  They look relieved.

I still dream about running.  If I can get to point where I can run again I'm going to be like Forest Gump.

No Race?

I bailed on the first race of the GSC mountain bike series.  My fitness is okay, I can surely do 13 miles, I wouldn't win but I don't think I'd be embarrassed.  No, it's in my head.  I still haven't fallen off the bike since the Big Crash.  Even though I rarely fell in races, my fear level is so high I don't think I'd be able to enjoy it.  If it was just me out there it'd be no problem, but add other riders to the mix and I get very nervous.  I hate it because it's like admitting defeat, I had this date set for me to be fully recovered and I'm not there.

Havana Hills

Anyhoo, Silk, Lil Ball and I went for a road ride last Sunday.  It was an Instagram day.  Blue sky's, green trees, and crazy people in the road.  I knew something funny was up when a pickup slowed down to yell "watch out, there's a crazy man in the road up ahead".  

We looked at each other like "what the hell?"  We'd peek over the top of every hill.  Then a motorcycle stopped and said "ya'll watch out, there's a crazy man in the road up there, we called the law, be careful".

When we got to a spot where I thought we could bypass Mr. Crazy we took it.  Lil Ball seemed disappointed but agreed it was the prudent thing to do.  Silk pulled over to take a nature break while Lil Ball and I rolled slowly.  Suddenly at the bottom of the next hill there stood a man in the road. We both put on the brakes, looked at each other, and watched the man.......... go get his mail.  Danger averted we finished the ride.  Beer and sandwiches followed on the veranda of Oscars in Beautiful Downtown Havana.  That is how every ride should end.

Sometimes I Feel It's A Shame

When I get feeling better when I'm feeling no pain.

Sundown, get it?

I'm almost back motor wise.  I still have pain while pedaling standing up.  I figure I'm down about 10% in my right leg.  The improvements seem to be coming at a better pace now.  Walking is still with a limp and I lack a lot of mobility, but every once in a while I forget which leg is injured.  I am getting tired of hurting though.

Head Games

Ahhh but my "self preservation" mechanism is still in high gear.  I am terrified of falling.  At least most of the time.  I will bail on the simplest of trail roots, sections I used to not even worry about, that I must have ridden 100 times, I still avoid.  Wuss.

But, this past week, on two separate rides, I forgot about falling and just rode the bike.  It was an amazing feeling, something that we all take for granted most of the time.  I don't mean to say I was being reckless or taking any big chances, but I also wasn't worried.  It's kinda hard to explain unless you've experienced it.  

Dirty Pecan

This was to be my first test to see if I was capable of riding 60 miles.  Plus there would be some group riding involved which I don't much care for right now.  

Me looking awesome

Anyhoo, I rolled out with the group but drifted toward the back before we hit the first clay section.  I figured it would be wet and didn't want to get involved in any theatrics.  It was a good call because the road was both slick and soft, with car ruts in some sections, and I was able to do what made me comfortable.  I settled into a nice pace and quickly began catching stragglers.

As I came to an intersection Ape Bike was stopped there, debating whether or not to continue on due to the soft road conditions.  Wuss.  I avoided calling him names (at least not then) and proceeded to ride with his group after they had decided to continue on the route.

Ape Bike, looking angry

The rest of the ride was rather enjoyable.  I was able to finish without much difficulty and still be able to walk.

We all hit the Mexican restaurant afterwards for adult beverages and brown food.  Much jocularity ensued and Big Worm learned not to leave his phone unattended.  

The Kid was home for the weekend and rode the event.  However I only saw him at the start and again at the finish.  He has no respect for his crippled old man.  When I finally rolled in he said "Hey Dad, you look pro."  Or maybe it was "slow".  Either way, it was a great day.