tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58925202995356369432024-02-19T08:42:22.751-08:00The Adventures of Mike and His BikeMike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.comBlogger243125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-61096366776763668832012-01-05T07:46:00.000-08:002012-01-05T07:46:39.203-08:00My Favorite MistakeHave you ever done something by mistake then thought to yourself “that was so cool there’s no way I’m going to admit that was a mistake”? Through history some awesome things have been invented by accident. Oh yeah there’s the microwave oven and penicillin but I’m talking about really <a href="http://www.omg-facts.com/view/Facts/22848" target="_blank">cool stuff like chocolate chip cookies. </a><br /><br />A while ago while getting a haircut I was treated to one of these wonderful mistakes when I heard the words “OH NO!” said with a fearful pause. When your hair stylist says the words “OH NO!” you would also like to the rest of the sentence to follow immediately such as:<br /><br />OH NO!, you are such a great guy there will no charge for the hair cut today<br />OH NO, I read your blog the other day and forgot to leave a comment <br />OH NO, there’s no need to tip me<br /><br />Those would all be very acceptable closures to the OH NO sentence but this time it was just ended by a long…….. pause then a look of panic. <br /><br />To make matters worse this was said after taking the first swipe off of the top of my head with a pair of electric clippers. <br /><br />I normally get my hair cut on top with a good old number 3 electric clipper attachment which is around ¼ of an inch then some tapering on the sides. Well, this time instead of a number 3 on top it was a number 1. Yep, the shortest of the short attachments. This attachment is so small it almost doesn’t qualify as an attachment. That was the reason for the OH NO!!! At this point there was no turning back so it was the number 1 all the way. This experience reminded me of when I was 5 and got my head shaved in the summer. If my memory is correct I cried after that hair cut but this time I was brave and didn’t even outwardly shed any tears.<br /><br />The first couple of days after my new hair cut I wore a hat around. Not because I was embarrassed but because my head was freezing. It took a couple of days to get used to but I’m very happy to report that I really like the new and improved super short hair length. Here are some reasons why super short hair is the way to go.<br /><br />
<ul>
<li>Short hair is way more aerodynamic – in fact it might allow me to average an additional .01 mph on the bike.</li>
<li>No more helmet hair</li>
<li>Gives me a good excuse to wear a cycling hat when I ride</li>
<li>My hair brush budget got slashed down to 0</li>
<li>Good hair day, bad hair day….. it’s all the same</li>
<li>It hides the stray <strike>grey</strike> blonde hairs that seem to be coming from nowhere</li>
</ul>
<br />So to date, short hair is my most favorite mistake. I’m sticking with it.Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-8383499906120199432011-12-17T10:25:00.001-08:002011-12-17T10:37:07.759-08:00Three Bears RideWent for a ride this morning. I obviously don't have the cold weather riding down yet this year. I was too cold, too warm, and just right, repeat....<br />
<br />
Even though I couldn't get the my temperature right it still put a smile on my face.<br />
<br />
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<br />Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-2066078205185023952011-11-04T09:14:00.000-07:002011-11-04T09:26:29.531-07:00Autumn RidingLast week I went for a ride with Jenny and my oldest son. Rides in the fall rock because these is nothing to train for and the leafs crunching under your tires are a great sensation. We rode to the town next to ours and had some pie. Yum....<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFbjwjk3aGHgIQYZ0ffBwrDPX_kZvNC4gfBFNQWZVfvZERpn45mE7T9GXvFo5qU7doBocoQuYMGt3HS3IRVlITmpUwnoxg-eLQIrQtAIvQYrQAbfrLjN9gWkUwaHA5_oaPy9zlzNoxRUSJ/s1600/1028111032-00.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFbjwjk3aGHgIQYZ0ffBwrDPX_kZvNC4gfBFNQWZVfvZERpn45mE7T9GXvFo5qU7doBocoQuYMGt3HS3IRVlITmpUwnoxg-eLQIrQtAIvQYrQAbfrLjN9gWkUwaHA5_oaPy9zlzNoxRUSJ/s400/1028111032-00.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671177459177907730" border="0" /></a>Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-4223032711273151282011-08-30T09:54:00.000-07:002011-08-30T10:07:45.197-07:002011 Seattle to Portland (STP) Ride ReportIn keeping with tradition below is my ride report for the 2011 version of the Seattle to Portland bike ride.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This year I made the 204 mile journey in one day again but I rode it with some friends which was a great experience.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This post is broken into short bullet points to aid those of us who have short attention spans.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.25in"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;">July 9<sup>th</sup> 2011</p><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <ul><li>Woke up at 2:15am</li><li>Wondered what the heck I was doing up this early</li><li>Put on all my cycling battle gear</li><li>Gave my pedals one last clean out with wd40 then lubed them up really good in hopes that they wouldn’t creek for 200 miles – didn’t work</li><li>Rode half a mile down the road to blockbuster where I would be picked up at 2:55am</li><li>Stood around in the parking lot next to my bike putting on sunscreen while the street sweeper guy stared at me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Hmmm….. 3am, standing in the dark putting on sunscreen standing next to a bike.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Why was he staring at me?</li><li>Ride showed up and loaded up my bike.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Street sweeper still staring at us</li><li>Finished applying sunscreen, ate a pre-ride PB&J, and took some precautionary vitamin I while we drove to Husky Stadium</li><li>Stood around in the parking lot nervously stretching while waiting for Mark and Brad to show up</li><li>Brad and Mark show up a couple of minutes later and we are ready to roll.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></li><li>Since we go to the same church we decided to have a prayer before we took off.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>(Couldn’t hurt – Could help) Looking at each other we were all wearing our helmets but decided since they had holes in them we didn’t need to remove them.</li><li>Looked for lightning bolts after finishing prayer but none struck.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></li><li>Took our first pedal strokes at 4am - ahhh</li><li>Almost took a wrong turn half a mile down the road but someone yelled out to us in the dark correcting our route.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Thanks who ever you are.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></li><li>Rode along Lake Washington and watched the sun come up.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Could tell it was going to be a great day.</li><li style="text-align: left;">Once on the sun came up we established some groundrules for our paceline (5 minute pulls and try to keep it around 18 mph - That one didn’t last for long but it was a nice thought)</li><li>Pacelined until the first rest stop in Kent at REI headquarters </li><li>Just like last year the REI rest stop was stacked with tons of food, toilets, and pumping loud music but this year there was a disco Elvis there to greet you as you arrived.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Nothing gets me more pumped to ride 200 miles than a disco Elvis with sideburns.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Thank you, thank you very much.</li><li>While I was at the rest stop I posted to my facebook where we were and how things were going.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My post was sent to Jenny’s phone and woke her up.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Oops, sorry about that.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She was in a hotel room in Chehalis getting ready to finish up the STP with some of her friends. </li><li>Regrouped into a paceline and rode to Puyallup feeling really good.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Ray hit a pothole so big and it bounced his water bottle right out of its cage.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We all went back to get it then talked to someone who just broke his collar bone hitting the same pothole.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Not a good way to end your STP</li><li>Started climbing the Puyallup hill and spotted someone on a time trial bike equipped with a rear disc wheel and sporting a aero helmet riding along too.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Brad slowed down to take a picture of him.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>200 miles on a time trial bike? Ouch.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></li><li>At the top of the hill I threw my STP Tyvek jacket in the garbage because it had done its job and I didn’t want to carry it for another 150 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>(Don’t worry I chose the ugliest one I own.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Orange, yellow and brown from 2009 but reminded me of the 70s a lot.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>In fact, I should have just given it to Elvis 20 miles back.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He probably would have liked it.</li><li>Started following Brad in the paceline and notice that his back wheel was not straight.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>After a couple of minutes his back wheel started to click.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He pulled over noticed that he had broken a spoke.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>To go with this he also broke a cleat about 2 miles earlier.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Now that’s some bad luck.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Arrg.</li><li>Got to the next rest stop and Brad asked to borrow a spoke wrench and bought a new cleat at the aid station.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>After 5 minutes he had attached his new cleat and trued up his wheel minus one spoke.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I decided that Brad wasn’t just another cyclist but a super hero at that point.</li><li>Everyone put their heads down and pacelined it for the next 40 miles until we got to Centralia (Mile 100).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The 18mph ground rule had been thrown out the window long ago and we were steadily averaging 20.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></li><li>Got to the halfway point rest stop and was greeted with a congratulatory Creamcycle ice cream bar.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>That was like heaven on a stick after drinking luke warm Gatorade all morning.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></li><li>Everyone didn’t make just one trip to the bathroom while at this rest stop but two.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Very productive.</li><li>On the way out of town we stopped for a light next to an overly lifted 4X4 truck equipped with a BBQ in the back.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The driver started “asking” us at the top of his lungs if we thought we didn’t have to stop for red lights and if we thought it was OK to run stop signs.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was the only one in the group who made eye contact because I was staring at him wondering if he really wanted an answer from us or if he was just venting because he was in a hurry to get home to watch NASCAR and we were slowing him down.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I pointed at the red light that we were ALL stopped at and told him that he was preaching to the choir and it was all of the other cyclist he should be mad at.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>While I was saying this I was also simultaneously counting in my head how many stop signs that I had already run that morning.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It must have been at least 40 but hey I yelled “clear” while I ran each of those stop signs so all 10,000 of my STP buddies could also run the same stop sign safely too.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My preaching to the choir comment obviously ticked Mr 4 X 4 off because hit the gas and sped off leaving a huge cloud of fumes behind.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></li><li>Started into the 40 mile rolling hill section and quickly realized that I was riding with a group of mountain goats.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Ouch.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>20+ mph uphill in a paceline?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Ouch.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Not being much of a climber I knew I was in trouble.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I did hang on but my pulls were very anemic.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Sorry guys.</li><li>Pulled into the next rest stop with two high school age kids playing some CCR on a guitar and drums. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>As we walked out of the bathroom and made our way to our bikes saw a guy sprinting for the bathrooms with fear in his eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Little did he realize that there were at least 10 people in front of him trying to get into the same bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I really hoped the people in line had some mercy and let him go to the front.</li><li>Headed up and over the Longview bridge in a huge line of cyclist with logging trucks passing close by us.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>With no way to pass it was kind of nice to climb without hammering it up the hill.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Screamed down the other side of the bridge and flew past the Welcome to Oregon sign.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>That felt good.</li><li>Started thinking about the ice cold Coke I was going to drink when I got to the last rest stop.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s amazing how a coke can motivate you for miles of riding</li><li>Finally pulled into the last official rest stop and bought my celebratory Coke.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was awesome.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Sat on the lawn for a bit resting and enjoying my coke.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Talked to Jenny on the phone and it sounded like they were going to beat us to the finish line.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Way to go.</li><li>With about 15 miles to go I was cooked.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The last couple of hills that we encountered I just couldn’t keep up with my mountain goat friends so I let them go.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I now know what if feels like to get dropped on the alpe d'huez with nothing left in the tank.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s both humiliating and a huge relief at the same time.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was kind of hoping that I could just soft pedal it into Portland enjoying the sights but alas my buddies sat up and waited for me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></li><li>I put my head down once again and told my legs to shut up and caught back up to my riding buddies.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></li><li>As we crossed a bridge into Portland I could see Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Rainier and Mt. Hood all at the same time.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was quite a sight.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></li><li>The next 6 miles or so were a parade through downtown Portland.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It really is amazing how many miles of bike lanes there are in Portland.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They rock.</li><li>As we pulled into the finish line I was greeted by Jenny who had finished 30 minutes ahead of me and the kids.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They presented me with a Lion again but this time is was even bigger.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></li><li>Got a huge hug from Jenny but when I tried to give the kids a big sweaty hug they declined for some reason.</li></ul> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal">Final thoughts:</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was awesome to ride with 4 other guys </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I made some really good fiends during the ride (thanks Dan, Mark, Brad, and Ray)</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m still really ticked at myself for letting up with 15 miles to go. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I know I could have ridden harder but my mind got the best of me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Arg… that makes me mad.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think I’m finished with double centuries.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They are lot of fun but the time commitment for training it out of control.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m sticking with centuries from now on.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The STP still continues to be the best organized ride I’ve been on.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s a ton of fun and amazing how they can get 10,000 people on bikes safely to Portland.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI3k85MgbdZHhGSnmKxtyjYW72abC6fN-HAPPe-AmTCeWBnOoN_BmeE6KjLQ198zyIozJLD4kWRfWpNjewLusQdH5kcina3g7RpbegWuClruNWFyxvx-AF9AtYa8JX_bLlAzVI16tXo5Up/s1600/280556_1947697616197_1355255244_31904782_1767283_o.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI3k85MgbdZHhGSnmKxtyjYW72abC6fN-HAPPe-AmTCeWBnOoN_BmeE6KjLQ198zyIozJLD4kWRfWpNjewLusQdH5kcina3g7RpbegWuClruNWFyxvx-AF9AtYa8JX_bLlAzVI16tXo5Up/s400/280556_1947697616197_1355255244_31904782_1767283_o.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646694949232850850" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhuyFJ20l-Zl0fvh5neMroS2YuIZfZP6b3oeX7j3JViyj3_F5w-nZetUMdtaQMo_jGIAXhi_BdX27PE0syRr39LAHXcB902oa9NM-d93G_UB19u1MSQ3URuRqRkyBbjl2b8qDl6U02Sc_/s1600/266824_1947701296289_1355255244_31904785_250805_o.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhuyFJ20l-Zl0fvh5neMroS2YuIZfZP6b3oeX7j3JViyj3_F5w-nZetUMdtaQMo_jGIAXhi_BdX27PE0syRr39LAHXcB902oa9NM-d93G_UB19u1MSQ3URuRqRkyBbjl2b8qDl6U02Sc_/s400/266824_1947701296289_1355255244_31904785_250805_o.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646694945940673954" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-9686274794845707892011-07-07T11:50:00.000-07:002011-07-07T12:05:46.320-07:00The New Cycling Business Casual?Yesterday I went to REI for the <a href="http://shop.cascade.org/content/events/stp">STP</a> packet pickup. I actually really look forward to standing in line to pick up bib numbers as it gets me excited for the BIG ride of the year. Anyway, as I was standing there this guy walked in wearing a white shirt and tie looking pretty business like. BUT, he was also wearing cycling shorts! Arrg.... Is this the new cycling business casual?<br /><br />So, I pretended to send a text from my phone and took a picture so you could enjoy the visual as well. Probably a good thing the picture is fuzzy or you might need to wash your eyes out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJNJVuNGxJsvscg5sL_QR1kxIDGN5ijqI-wZT0JIkrWbJHBDOKcBt7ppvDiLx5K7Noh7-aaaJ7WD4qqSSh1cMcWXlgGxuNwaanHr5eq9N4Nxn7DZOgxjipScSoEQshegs1NlWOQzAqxozD/s1600/0706111533-00.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 357px; height: 476px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJNJVuNGxJsvscg5sL_QR1kxIDGN5ijqI-wZT0JIkrWbJHBDOKcBt7ppvDiLx5K7Noh7-aaaJ7WD4qqSSh1cMcWXlgGxuNwaanHr5eq9N4Nxn7DZOgxjipScSoEQshegs1NlWOQzAqxozD/s400/0706111533-00.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626684731615363954" border="0" /></a><br />In the words of Happy Gilmore "If I dressed like that I'd have to kick my own rear end"<br /><br />Have a good weekend!Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-26454020085494687162011-06-12T18:18:00.000-07:002011-06-12T18:18:52.979-07:00The Art of Preparation<div class="MsoNormal">There’s nothing like going for a bike ride but in my mind a close second is planning for a ride with a route that I’ve never been on before and staging all of my gear in preparation for the journey. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Training season is in full force now for the Seattle to Portland double century so my training rides are starting to get ridiculously long. Being that they are so long every second of the wee hours of the morning are critical. So, I took a page out of the firefighters play book and started meticulously staging my cycle gear so I could throw it all on in a matter of seconds to get out the door. It kind of makes me feel like I should slide down a fire pole before I slip into my cycling gear in the mornings. A NASCAR pit crew would be jealous of my clothing application efficiency. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here’s the drill for a Saturday morning ride. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Alarm goes off a 4:30 am</div><ul><li>Have a full fledged argument with myself… </li>
</ul><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Self: What was I thinking….</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">Self: Why am I awake this early on a <i><b>Saturday</b></i>….</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">Self: Maybe the rain is coming down in biblical proportions in which case I would be forced to sleep in…..</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">Self: OK Mike, roll your rear end out of bed. You’ll be glad you got up in a couple of hours</div><ul><li>Finally stumble out of bed and look for a monsoon out the window</li>
<li>No luck</li>
<li>Stumble to the bathroom where my cycling gear is staged</li>
<li>Jump into my cycling gear in 9.2 seconds and apply all applicable lotions and creams. (if you ride you know what I’m talking about, if not you don’t want to know)</li>
<li>Eat a bowl of granola while checking my fantasy baseball team – grumble because my team sucks.</li>
<li>Brush teeth </li>
<li>Kiss Jenny goodbye</li>
<li>Push off for another great training ride/adventure</li>
</ul><div class="MsoNormal">I love this time of year. </div>Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-48982643938522440302011-05-21T18:55:00.000-07:002011-05-21T18:55:42.346-07:00What you missed this morningThis morning I rolled out at 5:30am for a training ride to some light rain which persisted throughout the ride. Not perfect conditions but it was a good ride anyway. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc-iwCMmq_PbhChy84sTResl479b3BC4OhymyVuiHpr3ovvN35YczT52p8rYx5DUnbxrttxRHPB2eDbfuhDnX5Gm2AlDbJJg89GzrWgjPwRIS9sDssVhtuPbera4d1JbCVwq7JR7tSJk6c/s1600/0521110704-00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc-iwCMmq_PbhChy84sTResl479b3BC4OhymyVuiHpr3ovvN35YczT52p8rYx5DUnbxrttxRHPB2eDbfuhDnX5Gm2AlDbJJg89GzrWgjPwRIS9sDssVhtuPbera4d1JbCVwq7JR7tSJk6c/s400/0521110704-00.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqMzn1MuXUtwN9jJPVWLSBx5nnQxvxuDSj0Sk_L5MGrNJ_7_njyVbsyzRzeU90M0qhAQMIeou009GszR8QxOyeKBG7C0ZZQz6hZTrJvWqscZ1lIUb6dqKzT1G9oW-wbxtA773-bXCl7XN/s1600/0521110900-00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqMzn1MuXUtwN9jJPVWLSBx5nnQxvxuDSj0Sk_L5MGrNJ_7_njyVbsyzRzeU90M0qhAQMIeou009GszR8QxOyeKBG7C0ZZQz6hZTrJvWqscZ1lIUb6dqKzT1G9oW-wbxtA773-bXCl7XN/s400/0521110900-00.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-20301557046251494052011-04-24T15:53:00.000-07:002011-04-28T16:30:29.744-07:00Is That the Sun?<div style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoPlainText">I love living in the Seattle area.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>There are trees everywhere you look, awesome places to ride right outside your door, and in most people's opinion there's no such thing as clothes that don't match.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This place rocks! The other thing I love is it rains so much here that when there is a rare sunny day in the spring no one wastes a minute staying inside. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoPlainText">So, last Saturday morning I took full advantage of the sun and went for a ride. I was greeted as I wandered out our front door with the sun peaking through the tulips. </p></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiELb0Hof7xXE8yzE26msH9HPDWl7vZi9-t3hSVnRktb8gDMR_snfYIJj5M2tzBcH0JtryMkwgDZD-EFpBP_oyLOLjy152EOe5NvzaC2fu4Zl-waI9f5IerIdpG94yMrgnneXmAzSoMBBw5/s1600/0423110704-00ps.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiELb0Hof7xXE8yzE26msH9HPDWl7vZi9-t3hSVnRktb8gDMR_snfYIJj5M2tzBcH0JtryMkwgDZD-EFpBP_oyLOLjy152EOe5NvzaC2fu4Zl-waI9f5IerIdpG94yMrgnneXmAzSoMBBw5/s400/0423110704-00ps.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599287534202139218" /></a><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><div style="text-align: left; "><br /></div></span></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiELb0Hof7xXE8yzE26msH9HPDWl7vZi9-t3hSVnRktb8gDMR_snfYIJj5M2tzBcH0JtryMkwgDZD-EFpBP_oyLOLjy152EOe5NvzaC2fu4Zl-waI9f5IerIdpG94yMrgnneXmAzSoMBBw5/s1600/0423110704-00ps.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwM3x5IAeCaVJcE57dD9adNLGAR0ql8qVtJVs2eFCPfQgC5IX7qyb6CvxrA6rETjKFaDhf4d4Cv6BDIMg8XSJ4TLWmlX9yDHh0MTufkma60Q3X5RjiyDOK0GWD94k3N9_J_boE5bTaf0Z/s400/0423110915-00ps.jpg" /></a></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">As I started out, I was clad in plenty of layers of warm clothes but as the day wore on my jersey pockets got stuffed full with rolled up clothes. By the end, I was down to cycling shorts, a short sleeve jersey and one very large smile. It was nice to ride outside in the warm weather again. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Just what the doctor ordered. 73 miles of sun exposure Vitamin D. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Sun, I hope we meet again very soon!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-4163141100638695972011-01-09T16:45:00.001-08:002011-01-09T17:00:56.489-08:00Mauled by a Grizzly<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwCuVXcp82mgLW1qU8rFKZX4ln_97_y0v39JeJPsAMsUOXuo2zXveh0o-a1gwnWHqiZRsugqVz-9EWQkeHv2yxRLEnF2103a-Mm8JYtfcnaQ8-epmMbD2b-CpMukVqQ9nFvYqMPYzbXH29/s1600/griz.gif"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwCuVXcp82mgLW1qU8rFKZX4ln_97_y0v39JeJPsAMsUOXuo2zXveh0o-a1gwnWHqiZRsugqVz-9EWQkeHv2yxRLEnF2103a-Mm8JYtfcnaQ8-epmMbD2b-CpMukVqQ9nFvYqMPYzbXH29/s400/griz.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560355846490847090" border="0" /></a><br />They say if you’re out in the wilderness with a group of people and a grizzly bear suddenly charges at you showing its huge claws and nasty teeth you don’t have to be the fastest runner in the group to survive. You just have to be faster than the slowest runner.<br /><br />As it has rained day after day this winter I’ve found myself hitting the trainer for rides a lot more than I would like to. Trainer rides are decent for keeping your fitness level up but what you may not know is they are really great for giving you an incredible sense of determination. Trainer rides are mind numbingly boring to say the least so in order to keep going you’ve got to talk yourself into not quitting. That’s where the determination comes in.<br /><br />If you were to see word bubbles by people while doing trainer rides I’m sure you would see statements such as:<br /><br />“Don’t quit, don’t quit”<br />“What the heck was I thinking?”<br />“I’m the man, I’m the man, I can do this, never mind”<br /><br />Trainer rides are tough mentally.<br /><br />Lately, my training motivation has been to avoid getting mauled by the grizzly. I know it sounds kind of strange so let me explain.<br /><br />This summer I’m planning on riding the <a href="http://shop.cascade.org/content/events/stp">Seattle to Portland (STP)</a> ride in one day again but this time I’m going to be riding with a bunch of buddies. We are planning on doing a lot of training rides all over the northwest this spring leading up to the big day in July. I think about these upcoming training rides a lot while I’m sitting on the trainer grinding away at the miles. Sometimes I visualize being at the back of a pace line with my buddies and watching them slowly pull away from me. This visualization gives me an extra boost of energy and motivation as I struggle to virtually hang on because there is NO WAY that I’m ever going to let that happen. I will not be the slowest and thus will not get attacked by the looming grizzly. <br /><br />I don’t have a need to be the fastest rider in our group putting the hurt on the rest of my buddies but when it comes to being the slowest rider in a lot of pain just trying to hang on the back that’s just not going to happen if I can help it. My goal is to be one of the riders in the middle of the pack laughing it up with the rest of the goof balls and enjoying the ride. Of course I’ll take my pulls in the front when it’s my turn but my training this year will be all about the enjoyment to be had in the middle of the pack.<br /><br />The funny thing is it takes a lot of hard work and determination to get to the point fitness wise where you can be that guy in the middle having so much fun. So during the wet winter month trainer rides there may be a lot of virtual grizzlies trying to chase me down but trust me, none of them are going to catch me because I’ll be safely tucked in the middle of the pack right where I want to be.Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-55175167367935092742011-01-03T15:58:00.000-08:002011-01-04T07:39:39.555-08:00Confessions of a Cookie-aholicHello, my name is Mike and I’m a cookie-aholic.<br /><br />(This is where you say Hi Mike, it’s OK to say it out loud, I’ll wait)<br /><br />Let me tell you a little about my story. It all started at the beginning of Christmas break from work with a simple plate of chocolate chip cookies. As I toiled and slaved around the house, every time I would walk by that lonely plate of cookies I would free one of them its isolation by eating it. I did this with full knowledge that I could quit eating those incredibly delicious and warm chocolate chip cookies any time I wanted because I have unbelievable willpower; but I just didn’t want to. As I finished up my chores I noticed that the plate of cookies was empty. Hmmmm….. the kids must have snuck in and polished them off when I wasn’t looking. It couldn’t have been me!<br /><br />Well, lucky for me Jenny went on a cookie making binge after my first cookie encounter of the Christmas break. The next batch that she made were peanut butter cookies rolled in sugar with a Hersey kiss on top of them for an extra boost of energy. Remember when I said that I had unbelievable willpower? That might have been a little bit of an over exaggeration because while I cleaned up the kitchen one day I polished off at least 25 of those bad boys. I probably could have eaten more had there been more to eat but alas I ate every last Hersey kiss cookie in the house. I may have over done it a little bit but my mom would have been proud of me because I was a good little eater and finished everything on my plate and everyone else’s too. <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7pfiQKTiNaY267kp9pL0V9FW3kFjymlD1lgyK8SvxREOpOY1O6Da7f0qV5w5Mc6KbEhB5c_Fi_xBVEhyAR4Y75hk4xBcS5ujfmzmAEZGOkFXR-V4mVqWs1IESr1OWTmX1HOc2XmIfCgJN/s1600/Image.ashx.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7pfiQKTiNaY267kp9pL0V9FW3kFjymlD1lgyK8SvxREOpOY1O6Da7f0qV5w5Mc6KbEhB5c_Fi_xBVEhyAR4Y75hk4xBcS5ujfmzmAEZGOkFXR-V4mVqWs1IESr1OWTmX1HOc2XmIfCgJN/s400/Image.ashx.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558115541363233154" border="0" /></a><br />The next batch that Jenny made were peanut butter cookies rolled in sugar with a peanut butter cup in the middle of them. These cookies are the mother of all cookies and make chocolate chip cookies look like a bat boy in the minor leagues. They are the Super Bowl and World Series of cookies all rolled into one. They are that good. Willpower? Who needs willpower when there are peanut butter, peanut butter cup cookies in the house? Not to be out done I polished off all of those too. At this point my cookie eating episodes had gone from a social event to an individual endurance sport. <br /><br />Finally, I had to ask Jenny to quit making cookies because I was starting to even impress myself with how many cookies I could eat in one sitting.<br /><br />As of today I have been cookie free for 4 days! It’s a challenge but I’m succeeding.<br /><br />So maybe I have a little bit of a cookie eating problem but I did do a lot of trainer rides for at least an hour during the break so I’m sure it evens out. Don't do the math for me. It evens out! Now I just need to figure out why the dryer has shrunk my pants to the point where they are really tight.<br /><br />Carrot stick anyone?Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-78112437402025063722010-09-03T15:02:00.000-07:002010-09-03T15:18:35.798-07:00MTB Bikes and Wicker Baskets<div style="text-align: left;">I love the process of buying a bike. I call it a process because you can’t just pop on over to your local bike shop and pick yourself up a bike on a whim like you would buy a pack of gum while standing in a check out line at the grocery store. That just wouldn’t be right. If you did this you would miss out on all of the wonderful agonizing over every minute detail that makes this decision so fun. Here are a few examples that just scratch the surface in a bike buying decision.</div><br />What gearing is just right for you, and is it time to step up to the manly mans table and drop the granny gear?<br />Should your components come from Italy or Japan?<br />Should the pedals have an acronym like SPD or be named after an amphibious animal such as a frog?<br />Then there’s the whole cost – weight – benefit analysis that must be done. Is it worth an extra $200 to shave off 155 grams or should you just replace a few double bacon extra deluxe cheeseburgers with single bacon cheeseburgers in your training diet instead.<br /><br />Oh the agony and the ecstasy all at the same time.<br /><br />Apparently, this exquisite process doesn’t apply to a girl that is about to turn 11. I know… hard to believe. A couple of weeks ago I took my almost 11 year old daughter bike shopping for her birthday and on the way there I asked her what she had in mind. Of course I was thinking that would start a spontaneous conversation about her decision to be become a mountain biker or a roadie and what her future cycling goals would be. But to my surprise her answer about her cycling aspiration was a pink bike that would be able to fit a cute wicker basket on the front. Oh, the pain!!!! Where have I gone wrong as a parent? I get the whole pink bike thing but a wicker basket? How is that aerodynamic?<br /><br />After enduring a couple private moments of cycling parent grief we went into the store to find her dream bike. To her horror the bikes that sported the pink motif just didn’t work for her so she settled on a nice mountain bike in a very girly baby blue. Just what she wanted.<br /><br />On the way home she was super excited to take it out so I took advantage of her excitement to teach her a little about her new steed. By the time we got home she could recite that in addition to being a very pleasing baby blue bike that could sport a front wicker basket it was also a hard tail mountain bike with a triple. I guess we’ll have to take the cycling geek thing in small steps. We did take it out for some sweet mountain biking a couple of days later. I predict some night mountain biking in our future (with a wicker bike basket).<div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwhCrzgGrhTsvmsKWRRVhe2MX3zoVUSs9wF_51W44YlSVOasNJY8I3KMRMQhAsaEL4tZTbWuLGo32plQbDKuwvEiFLlvmN9hBItFmk18OM_sXFrqhPgwvQ1gqLpIZ7tUcajNFEq5vOwXAv/s400/sam's+summer+10+046.JPG" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-57427034478261419392010-07-28T19:53:00.000-07:002010-07-29T05:56:51.067-07:00The Pains of Anticipation<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh633IoJDHf_c3DJ74kCP4Vn7mynqveKMbdXdIK1jbh4WbPjCuGe0ROmP3MCMkowcgcER5NVWNQuMEEE2YOkvvyY2HtvUj5pKErcBOwO3vUNIUWf8c2CurQnQfz_nV_XbETlVfPDwJ_nlVv/s1600/IMG_1413.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh633IoJDHf_c3DJ74kCP4Vn7mynqveKMbdXdIK1jbh4WbPjCuGe0ROmP3MCMkowcgcER5NVWNQuMEEE2YOkvvyY2HtvUj5pKErcBOwO3vUNIUWf8c2CurQnQfz_nV_XbETlVfPDwJ_nlVv/s400/IMG_1413.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499157315071412594" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Think of waterfalls</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Think of waterfalls</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Think of waterfalls</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Think of waterfalls </span><br /><br />That is how the song goes that my kids sing to each other over and over again. This song is only sung when one of the kids mentions that they might need to stop at the next rest stop to use the restroom when we are on the road. “No hurry really just when we see one” is usually the tone of the conversation. Then the waterfalls song begins from all of the other kids which usually insights an immediate fit of bladder rage and panic and the emergency search for a bathroom is on by the driver. Of course all of the kids in the car think this is hilarious except for the bladder victim.<br /><br />It really is amazing how the thought of running water or actual running water has such power over someone’s bladder. Luckily, this song has never been able to employ its super power over me and honestly I’m hoping that it stays that way. Recently though I’ve discovered a distant relative to the waterfalls song that has total power and control over me.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">A planned cycling rest break</span>.</span><br /><br />I know what you’re saying, “Mike, how could this be”? I know it’s kind of weird but here’s how it works.<br /><br />I’m a planner, I love to plan out cycling routes and when I’m in the planning mode I also try to factor in stops for natural breaks along the way. It's all part of the plan.<br /><br />Last month I was on a training ride which included a stop at Marymoor park in Redmond WA. I chose this as the half way point for my training ride because it’s a really nice park and more importantly it has the nicest restrooms that I’ve ever seen in a park. That’s how good of a planner I am. These restrooms are very clean and most importantly they are designed in such a manner that each patron gets an entire restroom to themselves equipped with a fully locking door. It’s like the Holy Grail of park restrooms. Anyway, I think you get my point. They are nice.<br /><br />As I got about 5 miles from this rest stop I started thinking about how many snickers bars I was going to eat and how much Gatorade powder I was going to add to my bike bottles. You know cycling geek stuff. I also took a mental note of how my hands and feet were feeling since they had been giving me trouble on earlier rides. Finally, I took a mental note of my need for a natural break which luckily was very low.<br /><br />As I started thinking about the blessed Marymoor park restrooms and what a great route I had devised it was like my kids had started singing “Think of Waterfalls, Think of Waterfalls” only this time it was working! With each pedal stroke the virtual waterfalls song was getting louder and louder until I was considering if I was going to make it to the Holy Grail of park restrooms at all. I was in some urgent pain.<br /><br />As I entered the park I spotted a blue port-a-potty over by the remote control airplane field and I did my best impersonation of Mark Cavendish sprinting for a stage win only there would be no talking on the phone at the end of this race. As I neared the blue structure I threw my bike in the grass and entered the port-a-potty as fast as I could. I was both relieved and saddened at the same time because I hadn't made it to my planned destination. Dejected I rode my bike another tenth of a mile to my beloved Marymoor Park restroom equipped with a fully locking door and ate my snickers bar just outside of it in shame.<br /><br />At that point I decided that I would no longer tell myself (my bladder to be specific) of any upcoming rest stops or include grand rest stops in my route planning ever again. Obviously, my bladder just can’t take the anticipation.<br /><div><br /></div><div>It's the element of surprise from now on!</div>Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-48214283808512330132010-07-20T16:27:00.000-07:002010-07-20T16:59:44.776-07:002010 STP Ride Report<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiLb5mLngOVMv37u8UMIMkcoDZICieBC4VXhbQKksM588F5ckEiusTqSCWM133R6iOlkxxl675MpHFRP658AbCS8EEvpzbazATuX5anGilefuhV4JMamw6Y-Fgkk5wosfEfuYB0J8Wzec1/s1600/STP.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiLb5mLngOVMv37u8UMIMkcoDZICieBC4VXhbQKksM588F5ckEiusTqSCWM133R6iOlkxxl675MpHFRP658AbCS8EEvpzbazATuX5anGilefuhV4JMamw6Y-Fgkk5wosfEfuYB0J8Wzec1/s400/STP.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496142090966216674" border="0" /></a><br />Rather than bore everyone with a lot of flowery words, excessive adjectives and the overuse of the word pain, I’m going to follow the tradition that I started <a href="http://mikeonhisbike.blogspot.com/2009/07/seattle-to-portland-stp-ride-report.html">last year</a> by doing my Seattle to Portland (STP) ride report in short attention span bullet points. If you’re into twitter just think of this post as an over abundance of twitter posts. So here we go.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Pre Ride</span></span><br /><ul><li>As I wrote a <a href="http://mikeonhisbike.blogspot.com/2010/07/2010-stp-predictions-and-game-plan.html">parting blog post</a> the night before the STP I quoted the mantra that riders recite at the Leadville 100 before the race. “I will commit, I will not quit” This is a great quote but I mistyped it originally as “I will commit, I will NOW quit”. This made me a little nervous.</li><li>Went out with the family to Pizza Hut for some pre ride guilt free eats. Ahhhhhh</li><li>Started feeling a little nauseated</li><li>Started getting a slight headache</li><li>Started getting a toothache </li><li>Decided that I had become a mental case and went to bed </li></ul><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ride</span></span><br /><ul><li>Woke up at 3am</li><li>Got riding gear on </li><li>Took some precautionary measures by taking some <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ibuprofen">Vitamin I</a> and applying liberal amounts of chamois cream</li><li>Prayed mightily that I would survive the day</li><li>Jenny got out of bed so she could drive me to Husky Stadium</li><li>Got to Husky Stadium at 4am and by 4:05 I was on my bike and riding</li><li>The official ride didn’t start until 4:45am but there were plenty of other riders just like me who decided to start a little early.</li><li>Noticed that another rider was following close behind me then he asked me how I was following the route in the dark. I told him that I had the route downloaded to my garmin and he looked at ease.</li><li>10 seconds later my Garmin beeped at me because I had gone off of the course. </li><li>My new buddy and I made a U turn and got back on course</li><li>Spotted a lot of flashing blinkies up in the distance and eventually caught up to a pack of other riders who had started early too.</li><li>Felt a lot like a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sooners">Sooner</a> for taking off 45 minutes early and then riding through the dark with another pack of rebels.</li><li>Noticed that my head light was by far the brightest in the bunch. <a href="http://mikeonhisbike.blogspot.com/2009/01/let-there-be-light.html">Thanks Kanyon Kris</a> </li><li>Rode along Lake Washington and watched the sun come up</li><li>Rode through Renton and various over cities with Police stopping traffic at all of the major intersections for us. Kind of felt like a rock star. Kind of.</li><li>Stopped at the first rest stop at mile 25 and listened to really loud techno music while consuming a clif bar and chocolate milk. I just can’t pass up free food.</li><li>Felt kind of like throwing up after eating that clif bar.</li><li>Got passed by a peloton of at least 40 riders taking up an entire lane of traffic. </li><li>Decided this was my chance to experience what it’s like to cruise along with a peloton so I leaped on the back and worked my way through to the middle of the pack.</li><li>Hung with the peloton for 30 minutes and all I could hear was the constant whir of tires. It was pretty exhilarating.</li><li>All of the sudden most of the peloton pulled over to the side of the road and proceeded to engage in a natural break. Some while still straddling their bikes. That’s what I call dedication. Don’t worry Jenny, I just kept riding but couldn’t keep the smirk off of my face.</li><li>Discovered that my legs were cooked from attempting to hang with the peloton too long. Would pay for that adventure for several more hours.</li><li>Stopped at rest stop mile 44 and had another Cif bar because it was free.</li><li>Walked across a huge football field to get to the bank of porta-poties. Had a long discussion with everyone else making the hike about their placement. Still kind confused on that one.</li><li>Pulled out of the rest stop feeling like I was about to throw up again. Did I eat another Clif bar? Decided that I’m a slow learner.</li><li>Followed someone with a Mellow Johnny’s jersey on for miles as crazed pacelines passed me filled with tree trunk thigh riders.</li><li>Pulled into the 100 mile rest stop at 10:45am and declined riding through the misting station and free offers of an ice cream bar because it was still only 55 degrees outside. I could have sworn it was July.</li><li>Made a mad dash for the porta-potty line and upon finishing up my business had another free chocolate milk given to me by none other than Miss Centrailia Washington. Hard to turn something down like that.</li><li>Decided to stick with Gatorade, Snickers, and an occasional gel for the rest of the ride. Lucky for me I run a lot better on cheap fuel.</li><li>At mile 120 got detoured onto a sidewalk because we had ridden up to a small town parade.</li><li>Finally met up with Jenny on the side of the road. It was really nice to see her. </li><li>Dumped off my headlight, rain pants, coat and some Clif bars that I had packed in the car and filled up my seat wedge with enough snickers bars to make it to Portland.</li><li>Put my head down and rode, then rode some more.</li><li>Was riding in a really long paceline and when a car drove by and honked at us in anger. The first 10 cyclists in line gave the driver the finger. It was a prefect example of a cycling mob mentality. I laughed about that one for at least 10 minutes. (Jenny don’t worry, I didn’t participate in the gesture) </li><li>Stopped at a convenience store at mile 160 for some Gatorade and stood behind some guy trying to buy a hunting and fishing license. The lady behind the counter wouldn’t sell him one because the computer had him blocked. He finally confessed that he was way behind on his child support and that was why the state of Washington had blocked him. Way to go Washington State.</li><li>Got an incredible case of “Are we there yet” syndrome for the next 40 miles.</li><li>Pulled into mile 180 rest stop, bought a 12oz Coke and drank it while sitting in the shade. It tasted great and normally this gives me a huge boost to make it the rest of the way but realized that no amount of sugar was going to do the trick at this point.</li><li>At mile 189 my Garmin 305 batteries gave up the ghost. This didn’t keep me from looking down at it every minute or so to check my speed though. Some habits are tough to break. </li><li>At mile 190 I decided that I was done drinking because I was sick of searching for porta-potties. </li><li>Pulled into Portland and climbed the steepest hill of the entire ride without passing out. At this point I decided that I was really going to make it. </li><li>Got detoured through the heart of downtown Portland because a bridge was under construction.</li><li>Rode with 10 or so other riders through at least 20 stop lights. Laughed as most of them were so fatigued that they were having a hard time clipping into their pedals every time we started. </li><li>Ran a couple of red lights just to keep up with the rest of the pack. There was no way I was going to get lost in downtown Portland after riding 200 miles and add additional miles.<br /></li><li>Pulled into Holiday Park to a huge finish line celebration where my whole family greeted me equipped with a sign and a stuffed lion. Nice touch.</li><li>Gave Jenny a big kiss.</li><li>To their horror I gave both of my daughters a big sweaty hug just for fun. They didn’t think it was so funny.</li><li>Double Century done!</li><li>208 miles, 12.5 hours of riding time, 15 hours total, 4am – 7pm.</li></ul><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Thoughts</span></span><br /><ul><li>That was the most focused ride that I’ve ever done.</li><li>At some point during the ride every muscle hurt in my body but never at the same time. They would each take turns hurting then feel better. I’m really glad that they decided to take turns and not all revolt at the same time.</li><li>That was the fastest century, followed by another century that I have ever ridden. Pacelines Rock!</li><li>I thought that I would never want to do another double century after this one but I’m actually considering it if I can talk other people into doing it with me next time.</li></ul><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Special Thanks To</span></span><br /><ul><li>First and foremost, I need to thank Jenny for putting up with all of my early morning and late night training and constant talk about cycling. I’d also like to thank her for showing a mean streak when I would call her out in the middle of nowhere standing in the rain. Toward the end I just knew she wouldn’t pick me up. That’s exactly what I needed</li><li>A big thank you to my kids for suffering through the fact that their father is a cycling geek. Get used to it, it’s not going away.</li><li>I’d also like to thank the inventors of chamois cream</li><li>Thanks to my mother in law for virtually riding along with me on her wii fit. I’m not sure how that works but my guess is it doesn’t involve chamois cream, snot rockets, Lycra, or rude drivers. </li><li>Thanks to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_Bauer">Jack Bauer</a> for being tortured and torturing so many people during the 7 seasons of 24 that we watched during the winter months on a trainer. You made trainer rides “almost” enjoyable.</li><li>Finally, thanks to the Cascade Bike club for putting on the most organized bike ride that I’ve ever been on. I’m not sure how they logistically deal with 10,000 cyclist over 200 miles but year in and year out they do a great job. </li></ul><br />Will I be back next year? I’m not sure but I don’t think it would take much persuading if others wanted to join me. Any takers?Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-30780566291653993952010-07-16T12:26:00.000-07:002010-07-16T12:55:09.881-07:002010 STP Predictions and Game Plan<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio0MPdPhcp3VqMUOAVM6xgdc6I-eSfoTP1FTjtCzH6zkt7a58CH9tmB7YjY3wZu5uCZo6wC2nywaSN4h2fNXfLV8bDJI1STxFf_2fD-wFcXsQ9iZttIqx8SmZ4xSA5r3xpc-q_dAofoR3H/s1600/STP+002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio0MPdPhcp3VqMUOAVM6xgdc6I-eSfoTP1FTjtCzH6zkt7a58CH9tmB7YjY3wZu5uCZo6wC2nywaSN4h2fNXfLV8bDJI1STxFf_2fD-wFcXsQ9iZttIqx8SmZ4xSA5r3xpc-q_dAofoR3H/s400/STP+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494589791832231842" border="0" /></a><br />Everything is packed, I'm super hydrated and my STP bib number has been placed on my jersey of choice. <br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">My predictions for tomorrow:</span><br />Ride<br />Suffer<br />Eat<br />Drink<br />Ride<br />Frantically search for a port-a-potties<br />Wonder what the heck I'm doing<br />Ride some more<br />Repeat until I ride 204 miles.<br /><br />I'm planning on starting at 4am and finishing sometime before the sun goes down. <br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">My game plan:</span><br />Pray for strong tailwinds and do some major wheel sucking<br /><br />Unless I have a major mechanical problem they are going to have to pry my hands off of the handle bars before I quit.<br /><br />"I will commit, I will not quit"<br /><br />Ride report coming next week.Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-25007610557674172522010-07-07T12:15:00.000-07:002010-07-07T12:20:05.214-07:00Dress RehearsalsWikipedia states that a dress rehearsal is used by professional performers to ensure that all the details of a performance are adequately prepared for and coordinated.<br /><br />Let’s get things clear here I’m not a professional or performer but I have been on a lot of training rides lately in preparation for my double century and they are starting to feel a lot like dress rehearsals. <br /><br />My last dress rehearsal was a 140 mile affair where I ended up learning a lot of things that you may or may not find interesting. Here’s what I discovered. .<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Sunglasses somehow get crud on the inside of them</span></span><br />After riding 80 miles I noticed that either my eyes were starting to rapidly degenerate or there was a film of crud on my sunglasses. Either way I really couldn’t see much. When I took them off to wipe them down (while riding with no hands – that’s for you LizzyLou) I noticed that the problem wasn’t on the outside of the lenses but the inside. What? On the inside? Honestly, I had no idea that I had the ability to shoot tiny sweat pellets from my face to the inside of my sunglasses. What a skill. After giving them a good wipe down and putting them back on I discovered that all I did was smear a lot of tiny sweat beads around thus making my sunglasses unwearable. Not a good situation. Next time I’m going to pack something small to clean off the inside of my glasses so I can see the road. It’s just healthier that way.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">I have an enemy in Snohomish</span></span><br />A month ago as I rode through the hills of Snohomish a rather large gentleman wearing some kind of lumberjack suspenders in a small pickup honked and yelled out his window as he passed me. Well, last Friday the exact same guy passed me again honking his horn and yelling but this time he threw an additional enhancement by giving me the finger as he drove by. What at the chances that of the three times that I’ve ridden through that area in the last month he would be out on the road twice? Somehow and someway I have made a cycling enemy in the hills of Snohomish. Lucky for me I didn’t see any NRA, country music, or NASCAR stickers on his little pickup so I’m probably in the clear for a random firearm showing up in our next encounter.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Plastic bags</span></span><br />On the last two rides over 100 miles that I’ve done it has rained for at least an hour during each of these rides. On both of these rides I haven’t prepared properly for rain which forced me to waddle dripping wet into a convenience store and beg for a small plastic bag so I could put my phone and camera in it. I know what you’re saying right now. Why carry around all of that extra weight of a small zip lock baggie if you don’t need it. I agree but in this case I’m going to throw caution to the wind and carry around a zip lock baggie just in case it rains from now on. My prediction is if I carry around this baggie it won’t ever rain again when I’m riding. <br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">A 12oz can of Coke could be considered as rocket fuel</span></span><br />When I was at mile 110 last week I stopped and bought a can of Coke. In addition to being the one of the best tasting things on the planet after riding a significant number of miles, a can of flat coke in your system could be considered rocket fuel. It’s amazing how a huge blast of sugar in your system completely changes your countenance. After that refreshing beverage was in my system I felt like I could ride another 100 miles. I’m going to use this as my secret weapon in the future. Sort of like Batman’s grappling hook that he occasionally pulls out of his Bat Utility Belt®. <br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">I could really do this thing</span></span><br />After all of these training rides I think that I have actually convinced myself that I can do the double century. Ah, the sweet feeling of denial. <br /><br />Well, the 17th is the big day. Either way, it will be a long but spectacular ride. I’ll let you know how it goes.Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-54861415049218794592010-06-15T11:56:00.000-07:002010-06-15T13:04:57.859-07:00Training for MiseryIn the month of June the weather man in Seattle has predicted rain 10 out of the first 13 days and he’s been right. Honestly, I don’t always like what the weather man predicts but when he predicted a day of overcast but DRY skies for last Friday and I had the day off I started planning out a training route with a lot of miles and some great scenery. My plan was to ride from our house up to the Canadian border along the Puget Sound and end up at the new LDS temple in Langley British Columbia. Sometimes I think planning is half of the fun.<br /><br />On Friday morning I got up a little after 4am and started getting everything ready to roll. At 5am I stepped out the door with my bike in hand only to be greeted by wet roads and that familiar Pacific Northwest consistent drizzle.<br /><br />That’s when the internal negotiating started between Mike the slacker and Mike the fit cyclist. It was a fierce battle with a lot of passionate pleas, power plays, bargaining, jumping up and down, and whining. In the end the arguments were for:<br /><br /><ol><li>Crawling back into our warm bed and spending the balance of the day eating assorted deep fried food.</li><li>Going on the ride anyway because I really need the training miles.</li></ol><br />Amazingly enough I decided to head out in the rain with the hopes that it would stop after a couple of minutes and follow the forecast of overcast but dry skies. It's amazing what denial can do for you sometimes if you use it in your favor.<br /><br />After 30 minutes of riding I was soaked to the bone but I also had either warmed up or become completely numb because I was finally comfortable. This being the case I decided then and there I was going to just keep going until I couldn’t take it anymore.<br /><br />Occasionally, the rain would stop and I would somewhat dry out but then the showers would start again then I would think to myself “I hate that weather man”. This is how the entire ride went. I rode through drizzle, rain, downpours, and occasional dry spells.<br /><br />The overall ride was very beautiful from what I could see through my wet sunglasses. This ride served two purposes. I was able to pound out 113 miles but I was also able to endure some miserable conditions. I think I’ll be able to use both of these things when shooting for the double century. In my own little way by finishing this ride I was giving the rain the finger without actually making an inappropriate gesture. It felt kind of good.<br /><br />Next time I think I’ll opt to stay in bed and eat the deep fried food.<br />P.S. Hi Dayleen! <br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Riding Chuckanut Drive in the Rain (Still fun even with wet roads)<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-I1Y960BnYED6tPNc_pohh955iWVPN7tYY68-ysbL_hN-4apmEzkVBOI99eIDntNgKBfC_TFS5Iv7Hb2JJJb03olw38P5e3-Eb9DIvk3wmt40exkvWP75Jg7_TTNBgb4mIxPpV2FSdaIs/s1600/2010+042.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-I1Y960BnYED6tPNc_pohh955iWVPN7tYY68-ysbL_hN-4apmEzkVBOI99eIDntNgKBfC_TFS5Iv7Hb2JJJb03olw38P5e3-Eb9DIvk3wmt40exkvWP75Jg7_TTNBgb4mIxPpV2FSdaIs/s400/2010+042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483078847463821666" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Cows out in the rain. I wonder if they worry about their leather coats shrinking if they get wet.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_F-HLSsImnp7J_cEpHgAKjGltaJbFJLN6FTsFjTYsGlCTUggVzUR2Wd9FcWYsgWQ6eO-AJj4qnEsTRcIrEIo0DmFefP2YFMoRr5wHy1b5oQ8DFjGbdnvB7t516q_8yDmmZzaIpmmaWlm6/s1600/2010+046.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_F-HLSsImnp7J_cEpHgAKjGltaJbFJLN6FTsFjTYsGlCTUggVzUR2Wd9FcWYsgWQ6eO-AJj4qnEsTRcIrEIo0DmFefP2YFMoRr5wHy1b5oQ8DFjGbdnvB7t516q_8yDmmZzaIpmmaWlm6/s400/2010+046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483078857189114546" border="0" /></a><br />The Border between the US and Canada (Peace Arch)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIPz4hWh66ZVIhMgXvBg2s0fx_EyoaFtg3iCnKdCjPmqXkwCamyB2mNfrse2afCO5oz9fkwTXIT6tJxkrz2jYY-8OWKQdsEYS3KhE8IzM8f2jHtacEkDxT-IAWRKjTpFKIyT1zn9cVgmCz/s1600/2010+047.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIPz4hWh66ZVIhMgXvBg2s0fx_EyoaFtg3iCnKdCjPmqXkwCamyB2mNfrse2afCO5oz9fkwTXIT6tJxkrz2jYY-8OWKQdsEYS3KhE8IzM8f2jHtacEkDxT-IAWRKjTpFKIyT1zn9cVgmCz/s400/2010+047.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483078863862703922" border="0" /></a><br />Crossing the Boarder. I got in line with all the cars. It was kind of fun.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSS-zR1YWpgZWZBJR2eU8LU7VhYG7eh4DbIgefSUtex45Z5J_mxB1HPGzq1R0zV72U4ymB8imhP6thNT9Rh1cyUCGTSRg0Mi-nFoTTYkLOeZz_TfIiTm0r76PoEoYNpRV6I5tcIFjcp7CF/s1600/2010+048.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSS-zR1YWpgZWZBJR2eU8LU7VhYG7eh4DbIgefSUtex45Z5J_mxB1HPGzq1R0zV72U4ymB8imhP6thNT9Rh1cyUCGTSRg0Mi-nFoTTYkLOeZz_TfIiTm0r76PoEoYNpRV6I5tcIFjcp7CF/s400/2010+048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483078875039025922" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">My wet welcome to Canada<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_tLYhVlQas-PMu2shhKkTJhkS72n5BOpF-KI0MTZa4iJ0U_scbkePhhnn25QxIa3yZEYsDE_BlVwjD3upiiNg-CpZ7pjlkJasE9-zgm8GHLXYRefxD8yGblb8GlC9miQlIBRpLjfk49do/s1600/2010+049.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_tLYhVlQas-PMu2shhKkTJhkS72n5BOpF-KI0MTZa4iJ0U_scbkePhhnn25QxIa3yZEYsDE_BlVwjD3upiiNg-CpZ7pjlkJasE9-zgm8GHLXYRefxD8yGblb8GlC9miQlIBRpLjfk49do/s400/2010+049.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483078883864852546" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">My final destination in Langley, British Columbia<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSF_Hlz0n8baAqNhbVnQyELWCD_QjiSdpJtC45dKu8PCoouZY9bjfjY6FLlmIb7H13vOkt3jstYxdEP_q6ZZTiX21RKrKrZ7eNsF2ATexd8tqZuiG19c3P1bPnq_e9TGFVVE5Mb-jSflgl/s1600/bctemple.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 315px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSF_Hlz0n8baAqNhbVnQyELWCD_QjiSdpJtC45dKu8PCoouZY9bjfjY6FLlmIb7H13vOkt3jstYxdEP_q6ZZTiX21RKrKrZ7eNsF2ATexd8tqZuiG19c3P1bPnq_e9TGFVVE5Mb-jSflgl/s400/bctemple.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483081455595842530" border="0" /></a>Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-46374937406634406232010-06-06T19:17:00.000-07:002010-06-06T21:07:16.543-07:00The Monday Cafe<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">Today I have the privilege of hosting <a href="http://www.ayearofhappy.com/the-blog-cafe.html">The Blog Café</a>. If you’re not familiar with The Blog Café basically it’s a virtual get together at a favorite cafe of the host’s choice where we sit around and discuss a topic that I throw out to you. Food, fun and conversation even though it’s virtual is kind of a nice place to be for at least a couple of minutes during your Monday</span></div><b><o:p><br />Before we head over to the café I first need to take you on a journey with me. I’m currently training for a one day 204 mile bike ride on July 17th so before we do lunch we need to get some training in first. Seriously, it won’t be as bad as you think. Our day is going to start at 5:00am as we all ride away from my house on our bikes. I know what you’re thinking. Mike, that’s way too early to ride a bike. I know it’s early but if you leave this early there are some benefits.<br /><br />1. The dogs aren’t awake this early and if they are they are way too tired to chase you down the street.<br />2. You get to ride into the sunrise and enjoy amazing views like this.<br /><br /></o:p></b><div><b><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2Lp-gGcNK1pVwUciwvaUO0DYIvajggdsbLlAzoL896Vg5WwK1R3jrvTPa6LZDnFe7D_gE1Ig6dR80me2y-J-Y270tkKgFHEhcCS1HPjxg_w8j-yieeppZH9_Sisqz3WR9iYmZdbTwNM4/s1600/IMG_5414.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2Lp-gGcNK1pVwUciwvaUO0DYIvajggdsbLlAzoL896Vg5WwK1R3jrvTPa6LZDnFe7D_gE1Ig6dR80me2y-J-Y270tkKgFHEhcCS1HPjxg_w8j-yieeppZH9_Sisqz3WR9iYmZdbTwNM4/s400/IMG_5414.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479868360739041714" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span><br /></o:p></b></div><div><b><o:p>Here are a couple of roads that we’ll be riding through on our tour of the Pacific Northwest.<br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><br /></b></span></o:p></b><div><b><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioDn7-iGAiAmxgwxNXEccw8vyOZgbxTdDpUwjLWfUgMvnv870SpvmWCl2dmd_zAla4GR6S0iXfEGf90dHgIecaV-7dL3XeqveytTsznI1FQMVPS_gngcWQlSNLMxQZjwbJxsypcTamgOth/s1600/IMG_1918.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioDn7-iGAiAmxgwxNXEccw8vyOZgbxTdDpUwjLWfUgMvnv870SpvmWCl2dmd_zAla4GR6S0iXfEGf90dHgIecaV-7dL3XeqveytTsznI1FQMVPS_gngcWQlSNLMxQZjwbJxsypcTamgOth/s400/IMG_1918.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479869860284979234" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /><br /></a></span></o:p></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1_iklCe4jd-qkr9hJY2GgC04lXBt3jvNBlMSws2C-PyluCgRXKbAndxvMGSUDmXpV9_pdKzD2plPWx0HJuOJuAopgTL6GE8Ch8aetmxLJpNGsOOuHNnBcPOZRLsof0t4cgWkEL-mJ7Js/s1600/DSCF0038.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1_iklCe4jd-qkr9hJY2GgC04lXBt3jvNBlMSws2C-PyluCgRXKbAndxvMGSUDmXpV9_pdKzD2plPWx0HJuOJuAopgTL6GE8Ch8aetmxLJpNGsOOuHNnBcPOZRLsof0t4cgWkEL-mJ7Js/s400/DSCF0038.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479869848839306434" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjrfh7R86x4yyaWcJvt7OUjF7ByIkwwqWTEUIjrlWBgOA-PEntoBX6mdiBZUdSgRBlSU6XJX0BX-uFIePEb316PR_x7NoarAZ7YvngZ3mfMoY-II0MYXuQMr_EAqTAlAYNbh_M1leYJJcy/s1600/DSCF0035a.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjrfh7R86x4yyaWcJvt7OUjF7ByIkwwqWTEUIjrlWBgOA-PEntoBX6mdiBZUdSgRBlSU6XJX0BX-uFIePEb316PR_x7NoarAZ7YvngZ3mfMoY-II0MYXuQMr_EAqTAlAYNbh_M1leYJJcy/s400/DSCF0035a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479869841955295938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYFmoaRPajAxjtD2LP9VdFc94qtPQEa823yhnU1T87EbiIqKuCLM-yV4-AOZBvS_eAzrwPfs0cwkwa33-MHkJEoXatObYf_shpDHaqK2nUTfk0-xM16HvJPQpksIOeyUPWk7g9tFamkEEd/s1600/IMG_1286.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYFmoaRPajAxjtD2LP9VdFc94qtPQEa823yhnU1T87EbiIqKuCLM-yV4-AOZBvS_eAzrwPfs0cwkwa33-MHkJEoXatObYf_shpDHaqK2nUTfk0-xM16HvJPQpksIOeyUPWk7g9tFamkEEd/s400/IMG_1286.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479869834785047970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlh35zK7OCwzCflF0QZ7oYBqUHs4JM2bje6v9e31N32fkK5-U3x5vc5IurshjPPLB58iLRK5EFd7TypWvsS-cGVytApvSNoxhQ3kdvq3BYmO342hgPXlitGvfJZmd_73zEqWaP9dNcNz4U/s1600/IMG_5372.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlh35zK7OCwzCflF0QZ7oYBqUHs4JM2bje6v9e31N32fkK5-U3x5vc5IurshjPPLB58iLRK5EFd7TypWvsS-cGVytApvSNoxhQ3kdvq3BYmO342hgPXlitGvfJZmd_73zEqWaP9dNcNz4U/s400/IMG_5372.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479868350895324738" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">By noon we’ll be finished up with our required 100 miles of training for the day and even though you and I have already consumed our weight in Cliff bars, Snickers bars, and Gatorade we will still be running a huge calorie deficit which of course we’ll need to take care of.</span></div><b><o:p><br />So for lunch we’ll be heading over to Everett Washington to hang out at Barney’s Pastrami Dip.<br /><br />Barney’s Pastrami Dip is a one man show run by the owner Dave Barney that basically offers one item on the menu which is of course The Pastrami Dip.<br /><br />Dave will make your sandwich on the spot after you place your order so you can watch him pile heaps of pastrami that he seasons himself on a crusty, split baguette with spicy mustard and pickles. I know it doesn’t sound like much but to quote a food critic “Barney’s is the best pastrami I have ever had on either coast.” You just can't go wrong with a Pastrami Dip. Sorry I don't have any pictures of these creations. I went on Friday to partake of this yummy goodness and also take some pictures for you but he wasn't open. Honestly, I almost cried on his door step. So for today you'll just have to use your imagination.<br /><br />Barney’s isn’t exactly heath food but since you have ridden 100 miles with me today there’s really no need to be a nutritional role model. All you have to do is sit right down and enjoy a great sandwich with me. In fact, you might want to order a second round before we leave without any guilt at all.<br /><br />While we’re enjoying our Pastrami Dips I’m sure we’ll do some typical cycling chatting about super important things like pedals and saddles of choice. We also might swap some embellished stories about some epic rides of the past. Finally, we’ll get down to the topic of my choice for the day.<br /><br />“If you could have any super power what would it be and why”?<br /><br />I love this question and honestly my answer constantly changes.<br /><br />So for today if I could have any super power it would be to have the ability to time travel and to take others with me. Think of it, wouldn’t it be nice to travel back in time to witness major historical events like the signing of the declaration of independence or more importantly the 2001 Tour de France. I could also travel into the future to figure just how old I’m going to be when I go completely bald. OK, maybe I'll skip that one.<br /><br />Super heroes only use their powers for good so I would promise to only use this power with good intentions with one exception. Occasionally, I've been known to say things that I wish I could take back. If you’re married you know what I’m talking about. So I would also use this super power to travel back in time by 5 minutes to correct any unlikable statements that I make and replace them with incredibly sensitive lovable statements. Better yet, maybe I'll replace it with nothing at all. So if we're talking to each other and I suddenly don't say anything at all when I should be don't worry it could be that I just used my super power on you.<br /><br />So, now it’s your turn to chime in. If you could have any super power what would it be and why?<br /><br />I'm looking forward to your responses. Have a great Monday.<br /></o:p></b><br /></div></div>Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-25522340179796241182010-05-23T20:20:00.000-07:002010-05-23T20:41:11.284-07:00Traveling By Bike vs. FlyingI traveled to Washington DC last week on business and Jenny was able to come along. While we were there we talked a lot about taking some long distance bike trips in the future instead of flying or driving to a destination. <br /><br />While we were sitting in the airport waiting out a 2+ hour flight delay I came up with the following list of advantages of traveling by bike vs. flying.<br /><br /><ol><li>No extra charges for bags. <br /></li><li>Wearing lycra is acceptable if you're riding a bike</li><li>Delays are never caused by weather in a city a 1000 miles away</li><li>Fresh air vs. Recycled air. Tough choice</li><li>By bike I can eat Snicker bars and drink Gatorade all day long and still lose weight</li><li>It's tough to get a tan when you're flying</li><li>You never have to remove your shoes, walk through a metal detector or get swabbed for bombs before you depart on a bike trip</li><li>They don't sell Velonews in any of the airport book stores<br /></li><li>Water bottles aren't prohibited on a bike</li><li>Launching snot rockets is NEVER acceptable on an airplane</li></ol><br />In flying's defense there were a couple of advantages that I could think for flying<br /><ol><li>Your bike seat doesn't make a very good flotation device in the case of a water landing</li><li>Barf bags are typically not available on a bike ride.</li></ol>I'm not totally ruling out flying but I'm seriously considering some bike touring in the future.Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-71136363293784772652010-05-03T16:57:00.000-07:002010-05-03T17:36:05.632-07:00What To Do When You're SickThis morning I woke up with a scratchy throat, my ears were hurting and I was starting to lose my voice. By the way when I start to lose my voice I sound a lot like Barry White which isn’t a great thing but it’s a skill none the less.<br /><br />As I stood in the shower I actually contemplated going to work for at least 5 minutes then called it off and decided to stay home. I sent the “I’m out sick email” to my boss and went back to bed.<br /><br />When I woke up 3 hours later I still felt pretty bad so I did what all slightly crazy cyclists do when they are feeling a little under the weather. I rode on my trainer for an hour of course! The first time I tried riding while nursing a head cold I thought I’d last for 10 minutes before lapsing into a coma but to my surprise I actually rode strong and felt a lot better after my ride.<br /><br />So after my ride today I’m feeling a lot better but I still sound like Barry White.<br /><br />I’m thinking the Barry White thing is kind of a bonus to my sickness.Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-12256219309948280252010-04-24T20:42:00.000-07:002010-04-24T21:26:32.195-07:00Paris-RoubaixA couple of weeks ago the 108th edition of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paris%E2%80%93Roubaix">Paris-Roubaix</a> bike race was held. This is one of the best bike races of the year because of the extreme conditions that the riders have to race through. If you’re into watching bike racers suffer (which I am) this is the race for you. This race is an amazing sight to see. <br /><br />In the days leading up to this race I was in despair because I knew I was tied up for most the day so I wouldn’t be able to watch it. As I ate breakfast before heading out for the day the thought occurred to me that I might be able to watch 15 minutes of the race on the internet. I quickly sat down at our computer and searched for a live feed of the race. Magically, I found a live feed and I was in business. I could almost hear the hallelujah chorus as I watched Fabian Cancellara punish the rest of the field. After a couple of minutes of sheer joy I noticed something strange. The feed that I was watching was in Italian. The funny thing is it didn’t bother me at all. Was I losing it? Was I the only weird American watching an Italian feed of Paris-Roubaix? No way, in addition to the video feed there was also a chat window to the side of it and everyone who was chatting was speaking English. I joined in on the chat to figure out where big George Hincapie was and sadly he wasn’t in contention. <br /><br />After my 15 minutes of cycling joy I had to shut the computer down to head out for the day. As I drove down the road heading to my destination I realized I had just added another item to my list of <a href="http://mikeonhisbike.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-know-youre-cyclist-when.html">You Know You’re A Cyclist If list</a>.<br /><br />You know you’re a cyclist if you watch the Paris-Roubaix at 6:45am on a Sunday morning in Italian AND LIKE IT.<br /><br /><object width="500" height="405"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2-1v5muNUIo&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2-1v5muNUIo&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="405"></embed></object>Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-27906055132262547532010-04-06T20:42:00.000-07:002010-04-06T21:37:05.760-07:00Energy Gel Recipe<div style="text-align: left;">Have you ever built a huge camp fire while you’re out camping with friends or family and stepped back with an admiring look on your face and exclaimed “Now that’s a fire”? Or upon building what you deem is the world’s best sandwich you say out loud for all to envy “That’s what I call a sandwich”.</div><br />Why are we so proud of ourselves when we build, create, develop, or even destroy something? I believe it’s because we did it with our own hands. There’s a sense of pride and satisfaction that we get when we make something on our own as opposed to going down to the store and merely buying it. And as an added bonus 9 times out of 10 it’s a lot cheaper to make something than buy it.<br /><br />A couple of weeks ago I was thinking about all of the training rides that I have planned in preparation for doing the STP and how I’m going to have to figure out how to eat on the bike if I’m going to do a double century in a reasonable amount of time. In my case if I’m going to eat on the bike it’s going to be in the form of a gel.<br /><br />If you haven’t had a gel before you don’t know what you’re missing. Gel comes in a little packet and depending on the flavor that you buy tastes like a couple bites of really delicious pudding. Mmmmmm pudding……… The amazing thing about gel is that it provides immediate energy to your legs. There have been a number of times that I’ve been out for a ride and feel like I’ve completely run out of gas and upon eating a gel I feel like I could ride another 100 miles. They are the cycling equivalent to the illusive <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elixir_of_life">elixir of life</a>.<br /><br />The only downside to gel is the expense. A tiny packet of gel generally cost $1.25 and on a long ride I could consume 4 or more of these life savors. That’s not bad for one ride but it adds up over time and it’s kind of a hassle to have sticky gel packets stuck in your seat bag or other places such as the side of your jersey (without you knowing it).<br /><br />So, the other day I thought to myself “Mike, you should do some research and start making your own gel”. On this occasion I agreed with myself and decided to do just that. Of course I went straight to the authority on this subject, the internet (Thanks Al Gore). The first couple of searches that I did turned up a mountain of strange recipes that ranged from straight honey to mashed up berries. None of these things sounded anything like the ingredients that I see on the side of a gel packet but then I came across a great article written by someone named Travis. This article talks about some of the science behind what is in gel but in an understandable way and also offers a simple recipe. <a href="http://www.summitpost.org/article/239378/home-made-power-gels-energy-for-less.html">Here’s a link to this article if you’re interested in further reading which I’m sure you are.</a><br /><br /><br />I didn’t follow Travis’s recipe exactly because I wanted to customize it a bit so here is what I came up with.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients</span><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brown_rice_syrup">Brown Rice Syrup</a> (75%)<br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agave_nectar">Agave Nectar</a> (a little less than 25% of the total quantity desired)<br />Sea Salt (very small amount)<br />Fruit puree (just enough to add some flavor and color)<br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwx9bC-e58eoGFbhBRmpIRTH0anVLKENZapMPpNsAH-KpsQ9IfznrfSo_oDHbngyzc_PuVx9BNYc0ZsLpaoAGKMTeo99_vV_7bqNaiAFIrpFj4Ldx8Jje1UYckVUL_lceeQJD12fvxylDE/s1600/IMG_5074.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwx9bC-e58eoGFbhBRmpIRTH0anVLKENZapMPpNsAH-KpsQ9IfznrfSo_oDHbngyzc_PuVx9BNYc0ZsLpaoAGKMTeo99_vV_7bqNaiAFIrpFj4Ldx8Jje1UYckVUL_lceeQJD12fvxylDE/s400/IMG_5074.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457248101411746386" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a>I really like this recipe because all of the ingredients are easy to find at the health food section of most grocery stores. Here is how I put it together.<br /><br />I started by determining how much gel I wanted to make. In my case I own a gel flask which is basically a mini water bottle used to store gel. My gel flask holds ½ of a cup of gel so this is the amount that I wanted to end up with.<br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQGMK3wXbhEZTlVm8O-QpEfkp_s4W02uZfFfHK7suRkWYhxksVuYkwTABK3hsMf6feKPtm5ErsLLXmQ07ToHH0vi2uSk_bt1-W2IHM4-p2LP_B-YMgo3nHpeC8Ljn8I5OKVn8iBtRviq2W/s1600/IMG_5177.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQGMK3wXbhEZTlVm8O-QpEfkp_s4W02uZfFfHK7suRkWYhxksVuYkwTABK3hsMf6feKPtm5ErsLLXmQ07ToHH0vi2uSk_bt1-W2IHM4-p2LP_B-YMgo3nHpeC8Ljn8I5OKVn8iBtRviq2W/s400/IMG_5177.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457248672880132946" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><br />Then using the percentages above I filled up a 1 cup measuring cup half way. I know that’s not very technical or exact but for me it was easier just to eyeball a 1 cup measuring cup half way. For the puree I took some frozen blackberries that I picked in the park across the street from our house and put them in a food processor (fake magic bullet) and ground them up.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Yl9IB4-wqhMsMLMPffie0jMMpkNmkZQWwTEk8Q4petXicJQP44V6cqe1KeJFo1EpiuaG86NS1rR0h2w4kULl7gWQzN5EtZFQLS4wMR4bS1dwF-H17qxlXjrsFeIV3GIxaLRIOTWM_3dz/s1600/IMG_5077.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Yl9IB4-wqhMsMLMPffie0jMMpkNmkZQWwTEk8Q4petXicJQP44V6cqe1KeJFo1EpiuaG86NS1rR0h2w4kULl7gWQzN5EtZFQLS4wMR4bS1dwF-H17qxlXjrsFeIV3GIxaLRIOTWM_3dz/s400/IMG_5077.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457248113294656498" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br />Since everything in this recipe is fairly thick once I had it all in my measuring cup I put it in the microwave oven for 45 seconds to heat it up. This thinned out the ingredients enough to be able to mix them up with a spoon.<br /><br />Once everything was mixed up I poured the gel into my flask and put it in the refrigerator for my ride the next morning. That’s all there was too it. The total process took 20 minutes or so and that included the cleanup.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />The final test</span><br />The next day I completed a 73 mile ride on some Gatorade and my flask of gel and felt great the whole ride. For a source of energy this gel worked most excellent. The only downside was since I used blackberries for flavor there was a high concentration of seeds in it. These seeds loved the nozzle of my flask and clogged it the first time I attempted to consume some gel. I finally I just took the top off of the flask. The flavor was great but I did end up spitting a lot of seeds every time I ate some.<br /><br />Next time I’m going to definitely to strain the seeds out before I add the blackberries. Better yet I'd like to come up with a chocolate flavored gel. Got any ideas on how to do that? If anyone else tries to make their own gel I’d like to hear how it works for you.</div></div>Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-38612318955398971022010-04-02T17:24:00.001-07:002010-04-02T17:36:14.603-07:00Signs of Spring<div><div style="text-align: left;">Even though the rain is coming down sideways today, yesterday we made it to the tulip festival to check out the signs of spring. Yes, there is still hope!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4qZNoNgnK0aWcWPL8hWbsYV3X23WUuUAUPPUQXsohdD50arC2K1UnnrXy6pDhdw972ioEfK3cFYixG7uLIWJPI_pcweZFAIgVglVZKi-P3J_lgr2X_W9RKgN91j88xqwwf75L8dDCuI2W/s1600/IMG_5124.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455703255381219682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4qZNoNgnK0aWcWPL8hWbsYV3X23WUuUAUPPUQXsohdD50arC2K1UnnrXy6pDhdw972ioEfK3cFYixG7uLIWJPI_pcweZFAIgVglVZKi-P3J_lgr2X_W9RKgN91j88xqwwf75L8dDCuI2W/s400/IMG_5124.jpg" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 400px; display: block; height: 300px; cursor: pointer; " /></a></div></div>Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-9361479882840205882010-03-18T06:18:00.000-07:002010-03-18T07:27:25.212-07:00Flat Tire Grief<div style="text-align: left;">The other day while I was out for a ride I was thinking to myself that it had been a long time since I had a flat. What a joyful thought, 3 years without a flat tire. Then as a rode along I felt like I was slowing down which believe it or not happens to me a lot. Normally, when this happens I think to myself “there’s no way I’m dogging it, I must have a flat”. The last 150 times that I’ve looking down to check to see if I indeed had a flat I didn’t. It’s just a case of my whimpiness, but this day as I looked down I noticed that my back tire was looking rather spongy. As I pulled over and felt my back tire my worst fears were confirmed. Arrrrrg, I had a flat.</div><br />Not to worry, just the other day I had repacked my seat wedge for the upcoming season with everything I would need to change a flat including one handy dandy latex glove so I could handle the chain/derailleur without getting grease all over the left side of my body. As I dug through my seat wedge I noticed that I had everything that I needed except for one item.<br /><br />Tire levers!<br /><br />For the next 30 minutes unbeknownst to myself I systematically made my way through <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K%C3%BCbler-Ross_model">the 5 stages of grief</a> I’m sure this would have been hilarious to someone watching from a distance but to me. Well, not so much. Here’s how it played out.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stage 1 – Denial</span></span><br />“What? No tire levers? That can’t be, I just repacked this bag. They must be in here somewhere.” Honestly, my bag is really small but you wouldn’t know it by the amount of times that I searched through it for those levers. It was like I was searching for a secret compartment to pop out like it was a Bat Utility Belt® but alas my levers had vanished into thin air.<br /><br />At this point another cyclist approached me heading in the opposite direction and asked if I needed any help. Being in full denial mode I reassured him that I didn’t need any help and he went on his way. I didn’t need his help because I had talked myself into being strong and nimble enough to manhandle that skinny little tire off of the rim with my bare hands just a like a super hero would. I was wearing spandex shorts after all, so this should qualify me as an super hero able to fix flats with the greatest of ease in a single bound of course.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stage 2 – Anger</span></span><br />Now that I had convinced myself that I could fix my flat with my bare hands it was time to get into action. I was able to wiggle one of the sidewalls up and off of the rim but the only way I could do this was to turn the tire inside out. Not really how I had planned my super powers to manifest themselves but the tire was off one of the sides of the rim. Then I realized that there was no way possible that I was going to get the tube inserted into my inside out tire and back on the rim. Enter the full blown anger stage. I wasn’t mad enough to jump up and down and hold my breath but I was angry enough to go through my seat bag once again and in the process chuck all of its contents on the ground one by one. Not a pretty sight but I was out in the middle of nowhere so no one else was around to witness my temporary cycling insanity.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPRSsWPNQy3t715AaPCdW1UHs-_kr7ogYv6zXc70vgFjf2dA3xk3NWWRPkAwJCqKYaylH__jRsXpS8fTN4wNZID6gHgG39pbZPEUmJzymdsnLfYFfvcaFeAmKin2C8VIi-Qiy969JmAsVQ/s1600-h/IMG_5001.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPRSsWPNQy3t715AaPCdW1UHs-_kr7ogYv6zXc70vgFjf2dA3xk3NWWRPkAwJCqKYaylH__jRsXpS8fTN4wNZID6gHgG39pbZPEUmJzymdsnLfYFfvcaFeAmKin2C8VIi-Qiy969JmAsVQ/s400/IMG_5001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449964492596386130" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stage 3 – Bargaining</span></span><br />Now that I had to come to the realization that my super power flat fixing skills weren’t what I thought they were I had to do some bargaining with myself. I could wait for another cyclist to come by and beg to use their tire levers or I could make the dreaded phone call to Jenny and have her drive out to Timbuktu to get me with my tail between my legs. I didn’t like either of these options but I decided to hang around for a little while and wait for a fellow cyclist before calling Jenny.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcjCfKQ0iPqaVBM8Vp6dCX9Iua7QRt03O3oZ2233YUNsXJsVeIZ4fa95SkoUCYgEpuEfnb4JF7IhcvJrioBGfl22xpdnfrT53rTexlszpeeuxocXqHOOV05t6QJuKP1Ss16ZQKO7sqWdR9/s1600-h/IMG_5000.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcjCfKQ0iPqaVBM8Vp6dCX9Iua7QRt03O3oZ2233YUNsXJsVeIZ4fa95SkoUCYgEpuEfnb4JF7IhcvJrioBGfl22xpdnfrT53rTexlszpeeuxocXqHOOV05t6QJuKP1Ss16ZQKO7sqWdR9/s400/IMG_5000.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449964479600006610" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stage 4 – Depression</span></span><br />So there I stood on the side of the road with my bike turned upside down and the back tire turned completely inside out “lookin like a fool”. I stood there like a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cipher_in_the_Snow">cipher in the snow</a> waiting for a kind cyclist with tire levers to ride past. I was deep in cycling depression. Out for a ride on a great day, in nice weather, on one of my favorite routes standing on the side of the road with a flat. It could have been worse though, I could be at home mowing the lawn.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stage 5 – Acceptance</span></span><br />I stood on the side of the road wallowing in my cycling depression for what seemed like an eternity when another cyclist came up the road and magically asked if I needed any help. Like Napoleon Dynamite I thought to myself “Heck yes I do”. I explained all I needed was to borrow his tire levers for a couple of minutes. He dug them out of his bag (because he was smart enough to pack them) and before he knew it I popped my tire completely on my rim so I could start over again mounting everything. I set a speed record getting that tire off of the rim while distracting him with cycling conversation so he wouldn’t notice what I mess I had made in my attempt to fix my flat. I was like a one man cycling master of illusion. Before he knew it I had completely put everything together and handed his levers back. I thanked him profusely for his help and he was on his way while I pumped my tire up.<br /><br />As I rode home I decided a couple of things.<br /><br />1. I would never go for a ride without tire levers<br />2. Cycling shorts do not qualify you as a super hero with bare hand flat fixing skills.<br /></div>Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-69006245775960513862010-03-13T19:23:00.000-08:002010-03-13T19:31:38.268-08:00Two Great Videos<div>I came across a couple of great videos. </div><div><br /></div><div>It looks like this one was filmed in Portland. One of my favorite places to ride.</div><div><br /></div><div><div><object style="height: 344px; width: 425px"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jEhpUov-adU"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jEhpUov-adU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div><div><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div>This one is of Jens Voigt and someone is asking him what he says to his legs when they are hurting. I think I'll be saying this to my legs a lot this year. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/W2GXeHbsG40&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/W2GXeHbsG40&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5892520299535636943.post-89941412610880232522010-03-04T07:10:00.000-08:002010-03-04T07:16:04.048-08:00It's All RelativeWhen I was in college I had a roommate who was a philosophy major. I don’t remember too many things about him but I do remember that he had two favorite sayings. The first one was “When I graduate I’m going to get paid to think”. On a good day he would utter this over-confident phrase 6 or 7 times in an attempt to convince himself that his major was legitimate. I’m not saying that majoring in philosophy isn’t legitimate but honestly he was pretty darn annoying about his major selection. <br /><br />The other thing he used to say was “It’s all relative”. This is a very normal thing to say when it’s used in the right context but he used to drop this line as a “I have something profound to say” statement whether it made sense or not. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Here are some examples:</span><br />Me: I think I’ll make some Raman for dinner before I go to study. <br />Philosophy Man: It’s all relative.<br />Me: What?<br /><br />Me: I’m going on a date with Jenny this Friday night. <br />Philosophy Man: It’s all relative.<br />Me: Huh?<br /><br />Me: Did you know that you can get 32 oz of Diet Coke for .25? <br />Philosophy Man: It’s all relative.<br />Me: You keep using that line. I do not think it means what you think it means.<br /><br />As you can see this phrase would immediately kill any conversation dead in its tracks because everyone would stare at him like a dog watches TV. You know, your dog knows there’s something there but he can’t quite make it out so he stares for a while then walks away. <br /><br />Jenny knew this roommate so sometimes I will randomly drop this line into a conversation when she’s around and she will start to laugh. It’s like the inside joke that never gets old. <br /><br />The other day I was in the car with my 14 year old son and we were listening to a pop station that he loves. Trying to get teenagers to talk to you can be a challenge sometimes so I was asking him about different songs that I knew nothing about. We were having a great conversation when out the blue a song came on the radio and he blurted out “This song is soooooo old”!!!! When I asked him how old the song was he said “it’s like 3 or 4 months old”. Really? 3 or 4 MONTHS? <br /><br />To me an old song came out in the late 1960’s which would make it 40 years old not 4 months. I guess our concepts of what old is are totally different.<br /><br />I was kind of embarrassed but all I could think was “It’s all relative” and in this case it actually made sense for once. <br /><br />Philosophy Man I hope you’re getting paid to think somewhere in the world.Mike Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01809565742296882977noreply@blogger.com8