Sunday, January 27, 2008


ride. 7 miles in 1hr15, on the bike path. not a speed record. but, if i ride the trainer later, i can probably still come within 90min of my weekly hours goal anyways.

the weather channel is saying this will turn to rain later today but i'm calling bull on that one. it's 4 inches and growing in my back yard. of course, eugene doesn't own snowplows and they sure don't salt the roads in my neighborhood, so my rear-wheel drive truck with summer tires isn't going anywhere. in fact, i will probably be on the mountain bike trying to get to work on monday. if it takes long enough, ill count the trip towards next week's training hours...

Sunday, January 20, 2008


Week of Dec. 24 (Xmas): 4 rides. 190km, 8 1/2hrs. Christmas is always a training plan killer.
Dec 31: 6 rides. 210km, 10 1/4hrs. Slow average speed, mostly hill repeats, all fixed gear.
Jan 7: 6 rides, 296km, 10hrs. Half of that on a Saturday ride. Sunday got snowed out on top of Briggs. Fixed gear all week.
Jan 14: 8 rides (did a double on Friday). 392km, 14 1/4hrs. 9 of it this weekend. Now we're talking. The legs feel fine. Spinning gears and a freewheel now.

Preferred meal of the week: Oatmeal Pancakes.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008


Late-night work emails, Family Guy, Econ 200 homework, and a double shot of rum. It's an interesting night.

My woman picked the early season for a grand 3 month trip over to the old countries for work (with a 2 week return in the middle). No sooner was she out the door than the laptop came out, and yours truly was hunched over excel scheming how to cram in the training hours to get really, really fit and still accomplish large amounts of steelhead fishing, duck hunting, and cartoon watching. Then, it got cold.

It's that's lovely two weeks in January that we get every year, where the low overcast rolls in and sticks around for a while, maybe burning off in the afternoon, maybe not, and if not, then the temps stay low and the lower Willamette Valley stays indoors. Rideable. Unless you're me. If you're me, you bundle up, ride slowly, then sit inside and wish it was raining. My legs still turn in the rain. Something about the cold shuts off the old furnace and my riding turns to stink. Hence the rum.