Sleep, rest, bike, wind, CBC
“Well, it’s obvious this isn’t working for you,” the sleep therapist told me.
Halleluiah, I thought. She sees the light.
“Next week we’ll get you scheduled for your next two nights in the lab and see which day of the week works best for [my next sleep therapist].”
Yes. The madness will end soon. I hope.
Which isn’t to say the past seven weeks have been a total waste. They haven’t. It was interesting to learn that my pattern of depression is more akin to that seen in adolescents than in adults. And she’s noted an interesting shift in my circadian rhythms that’s also more commonly associated with adolescence.
Coupled with the theory that heavy drug and alcohol use results in a stunting of psychological growth, in my case that would have been in early adolescence, it makes one wonder if it’s not all linked somehow.
It makes me feel like the eternal teenager.
Which isn’t necessarily pretty, attractive or reassuring when one is saddled with a middle-aged body and middle-aged responsibilities.
Anyway, considering I’ve failed the first treatment, I get the consolation prize (which I’ve referred to as “the carrot” in discussions with the sleep center staff) of continued treatment, which sounds like it may be what I was looking for in the first place.
And we’ll have the data from these eight weeks to guide the consolation prize treatment regimen. For instance, I don’t expect to be told to exercise more. I’m averaging just under an hour a day on the bike, and that hasn’t made any change in my sleep. So we can rule out physical tiredness—or its lack—as a causal factor.
I continue to be free to experiment with anything but medication while I’m in the study. The bike and exercise was one of them.
After my session on Thursday, I rode over to Futons & More and bought a new futon for the bed. Considering that I bought the old one there seven years ago, and that particular one was only six inches thick, it’s hardly surprising that it needs replacement.
I’ve been spending a litttle more than half my nights on the couch, which has a better grade futon and is eight inches thick. It’s more comfortable than the bed one has become, but since I’ve not bothered to fold it out, it’s a bit confining.
And you may recall my saying the same thing and threatening to buy a new futon for the bed six months ago after visiting CBC. This time, though, I have the money. I have to race right home after next Thursday’s appointment at the sleep center to wait for the delivery.
Bike stuff
Futons & More is in the same little plaza as another bike shop. They had several bikes out on the lawn and the mechanic was on the sidewalk with his stand and toolbox, working on a bike. I waved but didn’t go inside. I had to swing by Towner’s on the way home and felt I couldn’t afford two bike shops in the same day.
My replacement suspension seatpost came in. It’s completely different than the one that came on the bike and there was some confusion as to whether it was indeed the warranty replacement part.
They double-checked. It was. So not only do I now have a working suspension seatpost, but it’s a superior make and model to the original equipment. And what a world of difference it made.
In anticipation of this, while they were install the new seatpost, I bought a tire gauge and tire pump. The tires were inflated to 60 psi which gives a better ride, but at the cost of more rolling resistance. I’ve pumped them up to 80 psi. (The recommended inflation range is 50 to 85 psi on these tires.) In limited testing since then, it seems to be easier pedaling and longer coasting.
Balancing that, road vibration is increased. I can feel every stone in the chip-seal on the street, and can detect some resonance in the tires as I roll over them. So far, it’s not annoying. But now I have some more choice in finding a balance between comfort and efficiency.
The “limited testing” was riding to the meeting last night. It’s about a five minute walk so it’s barely a two minute ride. It was the first Friday since I bought the bike where it hasn’t rained, so it’s the first the guys have seen the bike and me on it.
Beyond the usual sorts of general complements one gets in regard to any material acquisition, I got one, “You look hot in that helmet” and one “I saw you pedalin’ your ass down Atlantic. You looked very European riding that bike.” And a new guy—his very first meeting—kept eyeing me all night. So maybe I don’t have to paint it pink to attract gaybois.
This coming week I think I’ll be adding fenders and a pannier rack. I’ve ridden a few times in light rain—enough to know it’s not unpleasant enough to keep me from riding. Spending the money on fenders won’t be wasted. I’ve deferred the purchase for that reason.
Groceries will become a problem in the next week, so unless I use the bus to get to the store and back, it’s time to get a pannier rack. And some bungee cords. The rack I’m looking at is aluminum and has a solid deck, which should negate the need for a rear fender. Towner’s doesn’t have the “grocery-getter” pannier bags that I want, so I’ll have to order those online.
Overall, I’m liking the idea of bicycle commuting. I never really want to start in the morning, but that’s just an extension of my never really wanting to leave the house. Less than 100 feet down the road and I’m happy.
I’ve not had any bad experiences (yet). Sure, a couple of times cars have turned in front of me or have stopped blocking my way, but they do that to other cars too. I’ve not been in any danger—my brakes work just fine and the bike is light and easy to flick out of harm’s way.
Where I’m having trouble is conditioning. I know it will take more than the 2½ weeks I’ve owned it to get this old body used to riding a bike. The heart and lungs seem to be coming right along, no problem. My legs, well that’s another story.
I’m not resting enough. During this period I know I should be taking a full day or two after each day or two of riding. My commuting schedule allows for that. What I hadn’t anticipated was wanting to ride more often, and giving in to that.
Despite the muscle pain in my thighs, what I want to do right now is ride over to the Public Market, hang out, and buy some produce. Or maybe ride over to the restaurant by the library for my usual Saturday breakfast. My legs are saying, “Oh no. Sit on the couch, rest us on the coffee table and read a book.”
And I’ve promised myself that I’ll ride to the meeting tonight—at the crest of Cobbs Hill—since I haven’t been to that meeting in months and people I see only there have been asking if I’ve fallen off the wagon. I can stop for a few groceries on the way home too.
Then tomorrow, I’d like to ride along the river and the canal again. It was such a nice ride last week. That’s all followed by next week’s commuting schedule.
Rest? I’ve heard of it.
Anyway, the result of not taking a couple of days without riding is that in the past week, after initially getting stronger, my legs seem to have gotten weaker. I know this could only be due to “overtraining” combined with insufficient resting. But I don’t want to rest.
I’m surprised at how compelling it is, just the prospect of being able to go anywhere I want any time I want. I’ll just pop over [somewhere] keeps popping into my head. Several times a day, even at night. Even in the middle of the night. Very strange.
Wind
After a break for a smoke out on the fire escape, I’ve nixed the idea of riding anywhere this morning. It’s too windy. All along I figured on biking in the general weather pattern sort of wind, but I never factored in the local pattern.
If you’ve ever spent time near a large body of water, you’ll know all about land breezes and sea breezes. Lake Ontario, our friendly local inland freshwater sea, is sufficiently large to cause them out to about ten miles from the shore. (There’s even a neighborhood in town and an amusement park called “Sea Breeze.”) Land/sea breezes are caused by temperature differences between the land and the water. In warm weather, generally air flows from the land to the sea in the mornings, and reverses, flowing inland in the afternoons.
This is exactly opposite my commuting pattern. In the mornings I’m pedaling against the land breeze and in the afternoons against the sea breeze. Evenings, after the sea breeze has died down, I pedal home into the prevailing westerlies. Everywhere I go, I’m bucking a headwind.
While I’m sure this will be a great benefit come July and August, right now it’s the only real frustration I have when it comes to riding. Even hills are less of an issue.
So instead of biking to Public Market or Jim’s Resturant this morning, I’ll walk over to The Corner Store for some bacon, lunch meat and celery. I’d forgotten all about macaroni salad. It seems like a good first macaroni salad day of the year, and the only thing I don’t already have in stock, is celery.
CBC
I really, really wanted to go visit CBC during my five days off. Trouble is, there’s just too much to do around here—things I’ve put off all winter. We’re both disappointed. On the other hand, she’s thinking about coming here even before our scheduled week in July.
I can’t wait to see her. IM and phone calls are nice enough, but it’s not the same as visiting. And she won’t have any pictures taken during transition, so I can only guess at how she’s looking.
She’s pleased that her boobs are coming along well enough that she doesn’t have to use the fake ones any more, and she’s complaining about how boy jeans no longer fit due to the redistribution of body fat. Boy jeans don’t have the hip room.
Meanwhile, I’m thrilled that my three new pairs of 32” boy jeans fit like a second skin. And I’m not bothered by the prospect that I may have to get 31” ones in the not-too-distant future.
Anyway, CBC returned last week from a trans convention in Philadelphia. The first such event she’s attended. She seems to have gotten a lot out of it and has the same, bubbly, rejuvenated sound to her voice that I had after my first AA convention last summer.
Land’s End sent along their swimsuit catalog in my order for the rainpants that arrived last week. Flipping through it, I saw some I thought would both work and look pretty good on CBC. When I mentioned this on the phone, CBC said she’s been looking at the same catalog.
It was mildly weird to be catalog shopping together on the phone. We do that a lot on IM, shopping for computer gunk online, but paging through a catalog over the phone was different. When you factor in that I met CBC as a guy, who I thought was the hottest guy I’d seen in years, and I’m now helping her pick out women’s swimwear, well that’s when the mildly weird part comes in.
Stranger still, we liked the same ones. [Shakes head and sighs.]
April 17th, 2006 at 10:42 am EDT
I was just thinking if you had the sleep cycle of my two adolescent children, you would barely have time for the mundane things in life, like work, eating, walking around and socializing. I just woke Zoe up @ 10 a.m. after almost 10 hrs of sleep. “Wha…? Oh, no…” she moaned.