The Good, The Bad and The Sucky

Staring at the lock I do my best to quell my autistic rage. This was bad on a day already filled with bad omens. I have serious concerns about about the upcoming week, maybe I should just cower in my room until this storm passes, go to ground. Get drunk, stay drunk and rant into this blog about the unfairness of it all until some indication that things were looking up happened, like winning the lottery maybe. I already had to turn back halfway to the gym when I realized my badge was next to 'the big chair' in the family room. At the time of the morning when I tend to work out it's insane to rely on the kindness of strangers, you're just asking for a beating.

I continue staring at the bright, shiny, new brass lock that was on my locker. And let's face facts, for one year it is my locker. I paid for it and it has a nice big Operation Feed sign on it proclaiming that it has been paid for. I decide it's too much bother to go home, get the reciprocating saw and cut the stupid lock off but I'm thrown completely off my game and I haven't even started. Someone's smelly socks were in my locker, defiling it. I'll have to sanitize it with copious amounts of Lysol once I gain access.

Whatev.

I set up in the locker next to it.

Today is the first day of Bubbles new routine for me and I'm already apprehensive about it, some serious cardio today followed by a new horrid ABS routine.

I set up on the upright bike, idly pedaling along warming up trying to figure out how to approach this problem:

1 min work followed by 2 min rest X 10

I'm paraphrasing because I left the workout sheet in the trunk of my car - sigh (I once again consider a serious binge).

Work as defined by Bubbles is getting my HR up to the 70% (over 142bpm) range for a minute followed by two minutes of rest at 55-60% (112-122bpm) before doing it again for ten times. I had researched the numbers the night before and could only remember the work interval number but so what?

I had set the bike for level five or so and forty minutes and was just sort of waiting for, heck, I don't know, something to happen. Some signal. Eventually I just push the lap button on the Garmin out of boredom and hammer the pedals jacking the cadence up into the 120 range while bringing the level up to 14. I do that for a minute and then bring the cadence down into the seventy range while dialing back the level to four and try and recover.

By the seventh one I'm sucking serious wind and trying to count how many work intervals I've done and generally figuring it out. I need some sort of chalkboard or counter - something. Mentally it went like this, "OK I'm on minute twenty, first interval was at zero to minute one followed by two minutes of rest so minute three-four was the next work interval (TWO), followed by ... DAMMIT! (restarts the count)" and I only had two minutes to figure out what interval I was on before starting the next work interval.

By the tenth one I felt pukey. I sit for a few additional minutes on the bike in cool down and then get off it and walk around for a bit trying to settle down. The chart looks like this:

I finally man up for ABS and start to work on those. The BOSU work was awful, I can't remember how to do it and the BOSU bicycles were not done in the correct form.

UGH!

When I talked to Bubbles about the stupid Russian Twists later she asked, "Did you remember the six pound medicine ball? It'll help with your balance."

No Bill didn't remember about the six pound medicine ball. DRAT

The ABS course kicked my rear. Tomorrow I do the Tuesday routine so I'll have to brush up on that tonight.

What I'm loving (soon to be hating) about this routine Bubbles has laid out for me is that every day is different. Yeah MWF is cardio but they're different cardios and so kinda sucky in the sense that I'll be dreading them a bit more than I once was. And Tuesday is completely different from Thursday so I don't know yet how to whine about them.

The scales inform me that I lost two pounds so I'm now sitting at 200.

For a Few Carrots More

I coast down the driveway and nearly wreck when a doe and two fawn stroll across the street in front of me. We glare balefully at each other annoyed at this interruption in our respective "me" times. This neighborhood is going hell in a hand-basket with this sort of riff-raff wandering the streets in the early morning hours, like sullen teenagers busted after curfew. I'm wondering when I'll see a wolf-pack come tearing down the street in some real life "You are THERE" Discovery Channel thing, ripping into the tiny mob with carnivorous delight.

I don't know who the deer's representatives are in our little community but I'd like to hire them. I'm skating the edge of serious jail time, a nickle at least, simply by hurting their feelings much less writing this heretical creed. There's nothing we can do about them except hope they'll go away, which they wont, why would they? My wife's garden is just too good. What I once thought was something of a majestic animal has now become a giant squirrel through over population. It wont be long till I'm shoving the things out of the way just to get the morning paper.

I head out on the bike with the intention of doing fifty miles. I have absolutely no plan except going past the point where I got lost, continue until the odometer hits 25 miles and then head back. goFast has routes but he's been at this longer than I. I'm gonna head out and see what I can see. I'm carrying two Clif bars and my camera in my trunk. I've got a cell if I can't get home and two water bottles. It had rained esrlier and I watched water drops dance in front of my little headlight. Its six in the morning and I'm off to a later start then I had originally planned having dawdled drinking coffee and listening to music.

It's still dark making me feel sad about oncoming fall followed by dreaded winter. I don't know how far into fall I'll be able to go with bike rides. I ride out feeling pretty good waiting for my legs to warm up, this is the first serious ride I've done in, oh I don't know, two or three weeks? I'm all about the distance here, grinding it out, not the time so I plan to take pics of things that catch my eye and might give you an idea of what you can see on a long ride to nowhere. I wish I was a better writer so I could give you an idea of what if feels like beside the boring pain.

I plan on stopping for breakfast at the ol' rock quarry which looked pretty cool in the morning. I sat on my rock and listened to the machines while munching on a Clif bar and drinking water.

The Ol' Rock Quarry

Bill's Eating Rock

I hop back on the bike and was riding out toward the little town I accidentally went through last time, recalling a quaint little graveyard.

I know I'm stopping a lot heading out but I also know that WONT be an option heading back, I'll be tired if not exhausted and my wife is very tolerant of this 'interest' of mine but I can't get too into it and still be a functioning member of the household if I decide to be a little selfish about it. My son just flat out thinks I'm insane.

The Town

A Town Landmark

My legs are starting to burn pretty good but I'm OK. I'm in uncharted territory and I'm thinking I might want to start planning as I move more into this distance venue. I'm in a place called nowhere and it's quiet and suddenly I notice it's quite beautiful.


I'm feeling pretty good, in this weird mental state when I notice this water feature as I pass some house.

I thought the water wheel sounded really cool. I didn't notice the actual house until I'm on my way back. The house looks like something kitschy you'd buy at Hallmark, I made a note to definitely take a pic of that place - next time. It's almost a study in madness like the result of living out in the middle of a field for a bit too long with nothing better to do than go with a Hallmark theme on the house. Nothing on the owners but - oh my goodness.

I continue on when I notice I'm going downhill, fast. I hate it for the simple reason that I know I'm going to have to go back up this hill shortly and my legs no likee. I rewrite Paint it Black, "I see a downhill and I want it to be flat..." I'm beginning to feel the onset of the delusions and I had better heed them. The bottom of the hill puts me in some small burg and I'm going over a bridge with a nice river flowing beneath me, probably a little flusher than normal due to the recent rains.

On the other side of the bridge the road forks. DARN IT. I can turn left but that's away from the road I ultimately have to get back to to get home. I don't wanna so I opt for turning right, go up this sharp little hill, hang a hard right at the top of it passing 45MPH sign and gaze at this itsy bitsy country road that reminds me a lot of the road leading to my son's band camp. There is a bed of sunflowers at the top, all mourning my passing should I opt to go that route.

I turn around and peep out the other route going up some other steep hill, just missing my future route should I opt to follow goFast's distance training program and crossing the legendary route 37 which I know I'll do. I want to drink the water at Magnetic Springs and see if I stick to my bike which is steel.

The clock and my body are telling me it's time to head home. I hump back up that hill leading out of the burg destroying my thighs and finally pass my first group of bikers looking all fresh and perky. I loathe them but wave while some girl gives me a snappy "good morning." I'm starting to hurt a bit but I need more miles if I'm going to make fifty.

I hang a right on the road I originally missed that time I got lost and got a little taste of what goFast euphemistically calls the rollers. The rollers are just this string of hills that stretch out before you. If you're fresh they're no big deal but Bill is far from fresh. His butt and back hurt and are starting to hurt more. The rollers take a fair amount out of me.

I hit another junction of sorts and decide to turn right. While I'm thinking about it I hop off the bike and check in with my wife figuring she's awake. I eat half of my remaining Clif bar while informing her of where I'm at. I tell her I'm doing fine but I can tell I'm getting tired. I'm an endorphin enhanced babbling fool. I'm stretching and yakking and reluctantly get back on the bike. I can barely crank the pedals and nearly fall over.

Sheesh! I'm more tired than I thought. I'm rapidly forming the opinion that stopping the bike is not the way to go.

After two hours of a rather rough wooing my butt and bike saddle decide to get married. My butt isn't so sure ("Stop! You're hurting me!") but the damn saddle is relentless telling my bottom, "I love you long time baby!"

The acrimonious divorce came ten minutes later after my rear realized that the saddle was nothing but a liar. My whole body is in pain now, particularly my lower back, legs and of course butt. I might have started being 'one with the bike' but now my entire body is rejecting it like some transplanted kidney.

I don't bonk but I have to get off the bike! I have about four miles or so to go to get back home. I stop and stumble about stretching out my very pissed off back and thighs.

Where Bill Stopped.

Back on the bike and I've decided that first of all I'm going to stop wearing underwear for the rest of my life, or at least when I'm on these distance rides. I haven't made up my mind. I'm wearing disguised bike shorts and they have this chemise padding or something that is suppose to add additional padding between you and the seat but you're not suppose to wear undies. I now understand. The cotton undies feel like sandpaper and if I wasn't in the middle of some suburb I'd rip the damn things off right now but it's too late in the morning and I don't want to wreck some soccer mom's life as she drives out on some errand with her kids forever scarred by the knowledge there are half naked middle aged men riding their bikes nearby. Gosh I want those things off me! Maybe my butt and saddle would get along better...

I ponder these mysteries as I approach home entirely shot now armed with the knowledge that I COULD have done fifty if I had planned better countered by my range which currently appears to be about thirty-five.

At least I had a better ride than goFast.

One of those days... headed out with intoIt and anotherNutJob for a 60-80... 30 miles in I blow a spoke on my relatively new Neuvation rear wheel. Decide to go on with my brake dragging the whole way. Then at 45 my newish front tire sidewall blows... not the tube but the tire! I am done. Woke up my son to drive out and get me for the second time this year.

I get back home and stumble around the front of the house like a drunk, unzipping my windbreaker and sweating like no tomorrow. I stretch a little, head in and give my wife a brief update on the ride while boiling some water for tea. Tea is a new thing with me, I like it in addition to coffee. My body is changing, I'm changing. Maybe for the better if I can get over my inhibitions and ride without undies.

I'm glad to be alive and wish to express this to my wife who refuses to let me grope her pronouncing that I'm "sweaty and gross." After the shower I'm no longer sweaty but still gross I guess my wife says no to my amorous advances. Why not? The kid's minds are currently deep in the gravity well of that black hole called SpongeBob SquarePants. So what if she's cleaning or doing something productive...

Oh well, best go spend time with my harsh mistress; as I wipe down my Trek 520 for the first time in my life I idly wonder if a horse might be less demanding. The Aleve I gulped down is taking hold and I'm feeling entire muscle groups start to unwind as I wipe the grime off the bike. I use to think these wipe downs were something silly but now I realize that I'm actually inspecting the bike as I doll it up some. This is important. Now I know the bike has had a good going over so I'm less likely to have a mechanical issue the next time I'm out on some long ride.

And for all my complaining, all the pain, there will be another long ride where I drink magnetic water and cross the fifty mile mark. Whatever it is about this 'thing' I love it too much to let go now. I love this biking crap. I love my life.

I check my stats from the Garmin.

65,635 calories burned! WOW! That seems to be a lot! I did suffer for them though, still best get a sanity check from Bubbles algorithm.

7.56cal/min X 190mins = 1,434 calories.

I suspect that is a nearer truth. sigh

The things I do for a few carrots more.

A Fistful of Carrots

"Yo, IronMan, come over here for a second and check this thing out."

I'm holding Bubbles latest Affront to God in my trembling hands, confident IronMan has my back, he'll get this sorted out for me. Bubbles is standing slightly off to my right with this bored, "Who's the trainer here?" look on her face.

"Is this even allowed under the Geneva Convention?" I ask as IronMan snatches the sheet of paper from my quivering hand. He scans it impassively, but with the same innate depth of clarity that allowed him to immediately spot a six inch by six inch section of the basketball court that they missed when re-varnishing it.

He hands it back to me while looking at Bubbles and saying, "It's not enough, he needs more!"

Bubbles rolls her eyes, glad this whining formality is over with and leads me off to the bikes while I'm despondently shuffling behind her thinking, "Bastard! If I was at gitmo and this was leaked I'd be the New York Times 'front page' boy for at least a week while enraged Senators fired up The Big Investigation!"

I'll spit out what Bubbles (who, in all fairness, might be going through some hormone imbalance due to her pregnancy so I just naturally irritate her because I happen to be in the room and she decided to express it with this new routine - bad timing on my part - look I'm just sayin') has done to me but let me make this abundantly clear. She put some real thought into this one, and my muscles will be very confused - long time.

I'm gonna start on Monday with this. At the 20,000 foot level it looks like this for the first month.

Bill's Orchestra of Pain
by Bubbles

• Monday: Cardio - Hellish Intervals for thirty minutes - Nightmare ABS
• Tuesday: Wrecking Bill in BOSU B-Flat
• Wednesday: Cardio - Hellish Tempo for twenty minutes - Nightmare ABS
• Thursday: Crushing Bill in C-Minor
• Friday: Cardio - Hellish Intervals for thirty minutes - Nightmare ABS

I'll go into more detail as my understanding grows but I ask you, no I beg you to write Bubbles telling her of the kind Bill, the pudgy unable to resist cake or ice cream Bill that if you look into your heart you know you love. You love me. Admit it.

sigh

Maybe I should rethink that plea for help from you heartless fiends.

Meanwhile I've scanned the list of things to do to appease Bubbles on my way to a new me and I've already forgotten about half of them. I should be able to enjoy this routine for a good long while! YAY! OH YAAAAAYYYYYYYY!

On the diet front things are not looking too good. I am so sick of carrots! I'm beginning to feel like a mutant Mister Ed I've been cramming so many of them in my mouth.

And you know what?

They don't help! Nope! Not one little bit. Sure I feel less physically hungry but the craving, the want, the neeeeeeed for that Super Fruits ice cream in the freezer burns ever brighter. Until... until I'm cramming as much of it as I can into a cake cone (Bill despises cleaning dishes) while convincing myself that it's "two scoops."

mmhmm

Two scoops, no doubt about it. Maybe one and a half but nowhere near three.

This is generally followed by another fistful of carrots in some misguided attempt at atoning which is just gross sitting on top of that ice cream.

Yep yep The Bill Diet definitely needs some fine tuning.

As always, my thighs burn for you.

JRock, Thighs and Workouts - Oh My!!!

I'm stumbling around the gym knowing I'm on borrowed time. Bubbles has me sighted in and I'm emanating this 'dead man walking' aura that others are picking up on. Yesterday we went through the first half of her unveiling of The New Horror. Tomorrow is the rest along with the cardio.

If I was a composer yesterday's routine would be titled Wrecking Bill in BOSU B-Flat. I don't know what Bubbles calls it. It has a lot of BOSU work in it when I'm not practicing punching someone's lights out on the hockey rink (that's the motion, probably preparing me for when my daughter starts dating).

So I'm mulling over these thoughts of doom accompanied by The Sounds of Suffering coming from awesomeGirl who's killing herself on a recumbent bike when I nearly walk into...

JROCK!!!

She stands in front of me like the Greek Goddess Athena, all honed and lean and intimidating, glowering at me from under her headband like I'm the one who woke her up and dragged her into the gym at this unholy hour.

I bite back my scream of terror and immediately make a mistake, "So, um, where's IronMan?" Oh my god! What have I done??!! The boy is probably at Bob Evans consuming his second course of his traditional seven course morning meal...

"He's in the locker room getting pretty."

Phew! Well he does have his hair to attend to, that could take some time.

We shoot the breeze for awhile when suddenly she's in motion gliding towards the locker room, storm clouds forming, "Where is he?"

I cut her off before she charges in demanding satisfaction, "Let me handle this."

She holds back, a look of bemusement on her face.

I grab the door handle, open it and scream into the crack (mustn't reveal any secrets here), "IRONMAN YOU BETTER GET YOUR CANDY ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW! YOUR WIFE IS WAITING!"

JRock is giggling and within ten seconds IronMan is out the door strapping weight lifting gloves on. They head out of the gym together for a morning warmup run.

A couple of comments here. First of all this might read a little harsh on JRock but it's not. JRock is funny and charming and all of that but when she's in the gym she's the very definition of focus. So's IronMan but a little different. I watched them work out whilst I was in repose on some weight machine pretending to lift weights. JRock is all focused and stuff but not stand-offish, but she is working out so you tend to let her to it. IronMan will come over and give you static between sets, JRock is just a little ball of concentrated motion moving straight from one routine to the next.

During my field study of Athletes in Motion what's left of goodMood wafted in and he was destroying himself on the StairClimber and I almost felt guilty with my lack of misery. I've got awesomeGirl dying on the bike, goodMood climbing a stairway to nowhere and JRock and IronMan in The Couples Form Competition while I redefined torpidity. I sipped from my water bottle deciding what to do next.

I figure Bubbles is on her way in and I better be looking like I'm working here so I bypass my planned stroll on the treadmill and join goodMood on the stair climber. THAT was fun ::rolls eyes::

Bubbles comes in all bubbly and I'm outie. On my way out I drop by her desk and she has FOUR spreadsheets across her desk, all of them have my name on them. She's giggling and making adjustments, fine tuning Bill's Orchestra of Pain. I learn the second half tomorrow. ::shudders::

One final thing, I need to be absolutely clear about. I'll use the following text from TomS as an example - we were talking about his bike ride:

TomS: I was going to say "wait until you see my glistening thighs" until I thought the comment might make the blog. So I never said that... but wait until you see them.

I wish you people would quit worrying about me spilling something silly you said into the blog! You'd think I'd do just about anything to drive my readership up to say TWO and I wont. I'm not that kind of guy so settle down OK?!

Later that evening I received this pic from TomS of his 'glistening thighs'

Nice!!!!

Missed Goals

Sunday morning I noticed the above. Well I definitely mismanaged this, darn it. I could lay a million excuses at your feet but in the end it doesn't matter. I missed it, end of story.

That weighed on me throughout Sunday, an annoyance in the back of my head. So thanks to my wife we took care of it. I rode to a local park and did loops until...

I'm really grateful to my family for helping me make this goal. My wife and son showed up a bit later and my wife is a hoot on the bike groaning at every upward incline. We hung out at a picnic table eating raspberries and mini-cupcakes before riding back together. So I put 24 miles on the bike during my "day off."

We also attended a local hot air balloon show. All in all a great weekend.

This morning I got up and did the total body thing. I managed to break my glasses yesterday so I can't ride the bike in or they'll fall off. I'm very bitter about that bad luck but hopefully can get them repaired today. The place doesn't open until 10am.

Feeling pretty full of myself and all my weekend work I stepped on the scales.

202

I gained a pound :-(

Yes, I ate sweets this weekend and blah, blah, blah but I honestly feel like I'm burning some serious calories too. What gives?

Bubbles is going to mess with my routine starting tomorrow giving me more cardio than I probably want. Hopefully by the start of next week I'll be back on track. My next target weight is 190 pounds but I'm beginning to feel like it's unattainable, this trade off between lifestyle (Bill does enjoy his treats) and gym work.

So here I sit staring myopically into my monitor wondering what happens next.

sigh

The Fool On The Hill

The Hill

goFast and I are scheming. I'm jonesing for a ride like David Crosby wants just one more Ho-Ho. The requirements are that it can't be too long but should be a pretty good work out. I have to go out and about with the family later in the day and The Zombie Bill is not invited.

We finally decide on a nearby hill and an interval style workout. When I get home from work I'm so jazzed about it that I inflate the tires to 110 and hook the Garmin on the bike. Then I stay up late by the firepit telling a six-and-a-half year old girl (she was quite specific on this point, "I'm six and a HALF!") all about the interesting ways the Indians would kill the settlers. Sheesh, actually I was telling her parents while she lazed on her father's lap trying to figure out ways of getting another s'more after mom and dad said no. So after two glasses of my beloved single malt scotch and a really nice visit from goFast, goFaster (his wife :-)) and their youngest I hit the sack.

Naturally I slept a bit longer than I thought I would but managed to get to 'the hill' before there was too much traffic. The hill in its entirety is about 1.1 miles long and my first lap I did it all to warm up but then decided to do three tenths of it at the bottom of the hill. It had the steepest grade... anyway I then did that four additional times, the last one continuing up and back to my starting point.

Those three tenths of a mile were enough for me. Quite hellish. It took about a minute to descend it (I'm no great descender so I needed to make sure I could stop at the bottom of the thing or risk flying out onto a pretty busy road) and about two minutes to ascend it. It's much different than an interval workout in the gym.

You'd think I'd love the descents. HATED THEM after the second lap. Here's the thing, you've worked pretty hard lugging your (ok my) fat ass up that hill and in half the time you're gonna have to do it again. That's probably one of the reasons I over braked on the way down, though not consciously.

The ascent turns into this game with the gears, too high a gear and you go slower and suffer longer, too low and you can feel your thighs swearing vengeance if you can turn the crank at all. By the second time I got to the turn around I was a heaving, gasping wreck, my thighs quite irritated with me. I'd make my turn and try to bring my breathing under control before starting again. I was in the granny gear by the end of it.

Good times, good times.

So five ascents total, I know I can do better, so yeah I'll be doing that in the future. I followed goFast's advice and peddled home at a high cadence, slow speed and my thighs felt better for it along with the stretching afterwords.

I got home and my wife had just gotten up, I felt great and we had a cup of coffee before she decided we should bike to the library.

So 18 miles total, it was fun.

Permission to Speak Has Been Granted

Who knew lifting weights could be so complicated?

goFast informs me, "As a former thick necked lifter, the bench bar is 'supposed to be' 45 lbs WITH collars. I believe you will have to weigh them again and figure out which collars go with which bars. You will then need to mark them appropriately. After that, monitor activity so that no one cheats by using the light collars and the light bar... that would just be wrong."

Hmmmm I confess to not delving further into the light bar crises this morning. In fact, other than awesomeGirl, ponyTail (who cheated and carbo-loaded on beer last night), and AT Everest there seemed to be an aura of lassitude and indifference wafting through the gym this morning spearheaded by lazybones Kingsley.

Kingsley set the tone by coming in after me and announcing that today was going to be, "Light and quick." My hands were tied at that point. We become herd animals in the gym and though I'd hesitate to call Kingsley the alpha he does have more years in than I do, so if he's gonna lounge about I better follow suit. Today was my total body anyway and is not cardio just toning or something, anyway Bubbles told me to do it and I'm certainly not gonna cross her! (I shudder at how adept she is at getting me to push myself further, and if she's irritated... look she's sly 'k?)

So yeah, Bill the candy ass doesn't buck the Bubbles' bandwagon. I get the added benefit of a stronger core, weight loss (the belt has gone in another notch as of yesterday), feeling better, and more confidence which I oddly find inspiring.

Then IronMan comes in and stalls at the front desk reading yesterday's newspaper! He moved like molasses through the gym saying we're lucky to even see him in there he's been sleeping so well. I figure if you're sleeping well, at my advanced dotage, you might not want to pass on that.

I think goodMood showed up but the dude is getting so skinny he's kinda hard to see. He was quiet, probably to keep from drawing attention to himself and catching a whopping case of apathy.

So, this probably wasn't the best time to figure out which collars go on which bars and monitor anyone.

Then Diablo shows up so we had to pretend to be motivated. Kingsley did this by leaving. The rest of us resorted to acting. Diablo's in fine spirits and joking around with us a bit.

In closing I can now share what most of you already know. Bubbles got herself knocked up and is expecting a baby! She's been pretty vocal about this already but I officially got permission to post this wonderful news yesterday.

CONGRATULATIONS TO BUBBLES AND HER HUBBY SCIFI!!!

I'm certain all will go swimmingly and hope nothing but the best for her family!!! I'm also certain not to make eye contact, to be as skinny as goodMood, and not whine about anything by the time Bubbles drags her sleep deprived rear end into work after her kid is born.

Have a great weekend!