Thirty days
Thirty days ago I brought my bike home. I’ve ridden about 26 of them. A lot has changed in these few days.
First, I love my bike. It’s the perfect choice for me and the riding I do. I gets me where I’m going without any fuss. Despite my complaints about hills and headwinds, I don’t arrive all sweaty or too pooped to work.
That’s because it fits well, and is geared perfectly for commuting around town. I’ve never felt the need to stand for more power. There’s always another gear to make life easier, or things go by faster. I still have this dream of replacing the 48 tooth chainring with a 52 or 53, but I think that’s more a chest-thumping testosterone thing than a need.
The aluminum frame is a dream. It feels light, tight and solid. Nothing bends or flexes anywhere. They say aluminum isn’t as nice riding as steel or carbon fiber, but I like the road feel. It gives me confidence when I can feel the road texture and imperfections through the frame.
The suspension makes up for any lack of compliance in the frame, and it’s a real treat. There’s a cost in weight, of course, but it also makes commuting on Rochester’s moon cratered streets tolerable. I seldom have to lift my butt off the seat for a pothole, and when I don’t, I don’t feel the shock rippling up through my spine. And, although it was really weird, almost frightening, the first few times, I’ve come to enjoy the feeling when the forks compress and rebound when I grab a handful of brake.
The wheels and tires are also confidence-inspiring. They’re wider and more rugged than those ordinarily found on a street bike—cruisers excepted—but not so big and heavy as those on a mountain bike. Still, they’re a significant cost in weight. Not only do I have to move the extra mass, I also have to spin it—and at higher speeds, work against it to steer.
However, they roll over anything and I’ve rolled over everything this month. Broken glass, sharp stones, granite curbs, storm grates, potholes, twisted bits of metal, sticks—you name it and I’ve hit it. If I haven’t flatted a tire or bent a rim yet, I think I’m in good shape for the season. Yeah, I’ll eventually buy a patch kit, tire changing tools and maybe a portable air pump to take on rides far away from any bus line, but I don’t feel a pressing need to.
Where I’m having trouble is the seat. I can’t fault the bike or the manufacturer for building it with a seat more compatible with typical fat-assed Americans. I’m not that broad of beam.
Towards the back of the seat where you’re supposed to sit, my fleshy bits contact the saddle instead of my bony bits, and my thighs rub against the flare on the side, which over a bit of distance, pushes me forward on the seat. If I move forward towards the nose (either by choice or by way of my thighs rubbing against the saddle’s flare,) it fits my butt much better, but it also throws off the overall fit of the bike and my legs feel cramped and crowded.
I’ve messed with the seat adjustment dozens of times. And I’ve consulted many people on it. It seems like the only solution will be to replace it with a saddle designed for a narrow bony butt like mine, rather than a fat flabby one. And again, I can’t fault the manufacturer’s decision. There are far more big butt Americans than bony butt ones—especially among those shopping in the hybrid/comfort bike category.
There’s a couple of other niggling things, but they’re adjustments that should be taken care of at the free, 30-day service next week. The rear brake likes to drag on one side and the rear derailleur doesn’t shift quite as crisply as it did a month ago. I’m told this is all normal break-in stuff that adjustments will cure, so I’m unconcerned.
If I knew how, I’d try adjusting them myself. But designs are completely different from what we had when I was a kid, and the stuff in Bicycling Magazine, web sites and repair books just doesn’t seem to make it into my head. Rather than reading, I need to be shown what to do with hands-on to reinforce it. I can’t wait until the bicycle maintenance class they’re threatening to have at the dealer.
Not that there’s a ton of stuff to do. But I’d like to be able to fix a rough shift or center the brakes or fix a flat without having to run off to the dealer.
As for me, more than I love my bike, I love riding it. I like that when I arrive someplace that I’ve done it under my own power. It’s not that I’m a “green” or a cheapskate or making a political statement. It’s more the sense of accomplishment. I can hop on the bike and be anywhere I need to be in about 20 minutes. I don’t have to rely on anyone or on the bus. I can just do it. I can just do it.
Today I went downtown to the AA Central Office, then to the library to drop off a book I forgot yesterday. Then I went grocery shopping. The store is uphill from the library and it’s uphill to the railroad underpass (and again after it) on the way home. No problem. And I’ll go to the AA meeting (up Cobb’s Hill) tonight. I’d never have done all that in a single day before.
I don’t know what’s different or if I’ve changed, but 10 years ago when I went to the gym regularly for almost six months, I never felt good after. I feel fantastic when I hop off the bike. I don’t know what sort of juices it gets going, but it feels great. Even if my quads have been in nearly continuous protest for a month.
That feeling carries over into my general sense of well-being too. I never got that at the gym, which is most of the reason why I quit. The other part was that the gym was yet another thing to be fit into the day. This is just a different mode of transit, which I have to do anyway. And rather than consuming time, like the gym, I’m saving time as compared to the bus.
Am I turning into a health nut? It’s too early to say. I’m surprised at how quickly my body is adapting though. I’m not opposed to taking steps to encourage that.
For instance, I haven’t used the granny gear in two weeks now. I’m powering up hills now in 48-18 that a month ago were a strain at 28-18. Computing the gear ratios, 1:1.56 then and 1:2.67 now, shows how much that’s changed.
This past week, I’ve taken to racing cars across four and five-lane intersections from a dead stop. I beat them. It’s amazing. It’s fun too. And I catch up to them at the next stoplight and do it again. Both yesterday and today I was in traffic and thinking, C’mon, step on it!
My only goal with regard to physical training, was to be able to arrive at my destination without huffing and puffing and dripping sweat all over the place. I accomplished that—at least in cool weather—in less than 30 days.
My other goal was to make it to work in half the time it took on the bus. On Wednesday, (admittedly with a brisk tailwind) it was less than 10 minutes to get to the library. This compares to 35-40 minutes on the bus. Yippie!
So what do I do, now that I’ve accomplished my goals? Well, go more places, do more things and have fun getting there. I don’t have to race cars. (Although it was fun and little disconcerting—for both of us—to pass a car in a school zone the other day.) I can play on hills. Let’s see if we can take this in a higher gear today. I can run my errands backwards, like I did today. Instead of planning for downhills (like from the grocery store to the library) I planned for uphills (from the library to the grocery store).
I no sooner hang up my helmet from one ride, and I’m planning the next. It makes me wonder where I’ll be in 60 days, or by mid-summer, or by the end of the season.
Other attitudes have changed. I’m looking at meals as bike fuel rather than just something tasty to stop an empty belly from annoying me. I bought freakin’ Ovaltine today. I hate drinking milk. (I mean it comes from cow tits for christsakes.) But there was a piece in the June issue of Bicycling Magazine about nutrition.
It mentioned that whey protein—found in milk but not in cheese—is just what’s needed to rebuild muscle after a hard ride. They recommended Ovaltine with it for the extra vitamins and stuff. So I bought Ovaltine. [Shakes head.]
I made it nearly 49 years without ever drinking, let alone purchasing, Ovaltine. Worse, I’ve already had two glasses of the stuff. And I’ve already caught myself thinking, Hmmm. Maybe I can cut out my nightly chocolate bar and have Ovaltine instead.
Heaven help me if they ever recommend Metamucil.
The craziest part, is my stupid knee. I’ve been concerned for a while now that there’s an orthopedist in my future, and not in a good way. I can’t remember a pain-free day in the past several years—until after that first test ride on the bike. The pain went away for a couple of days after that. I can’t remember having pain in that knee since I brought the bike home. Here I was worried that it may exacerbate the problem, and instead, it seems to have cured it. Whatever it was.
On the other hand, I seem to have strained my right wrist yesterday, probably from carrying the bike up and down the fire escape and in and out of the apartment. Following advice, I made several changes to the seating position.
Part of the process was, with a plumb bob, measuring from the front of the knee to the pedal spindle while the pedal is in the 3 o’clock position. (I fashioned a plumb bob out of a lanyard and my keys.) This, of course, must be done while seated on the bike, and having no stand, I used the kitchen doorway to lean against. One tire in the kitchen, the other in the living room.
In, out, up, down, loosen, adjust, tighten—somewhere along the line, I wrenched that wrist. I don’t remember doing it. Just sort of announced itself later in the day, Hey, don’t move me!
Continuing later in the evening…
Tonight I left home and completely forgot to put on my knee brace. I didn’t even notice until I was bending at the grocery store and didn’t feel that familiar bunching.
Yeah, twice to the grocery store in one day. I never even did that when I lived across the street from it. But it’s not too far out of the way coming home from the meeting, and I had a coupon that expires today that I’d left home this morning, so why not?
These are the sorts of changes that surprise me.
While it wasn’t a goal, I expected some improvement with cardio and respiration. I spent the first couple of weeks after every ride kacking up goo from very, very deep. Since that doesn’t happen any more I wonder how long that stuff was down there?
My resting heart and respiration rate have dropped. I don’t have a heart rate monitor and haven’t kept count of either, but there is a noticable difference in both.
I will only let smokers and ex-smokers ask me if this means I’m going to quit. My answer is, “I don’t know.” We’ll just have to see. I’ve made no specific plans and there’s been no change in how many I smoke.
I had hoped the exercise would help me sleep. That hasn’t happened, which indicates to me that it’s a brain thing, not a body thing.
Finishing up on the body thing, everyone asks if I’m losing weight.
No. I’m gaining.
Surely part of this is adding muscle to my legs, but also, my brand new 32” waist jeans are getting tight. While it would be nice, it wasn’t a goal to shed the shield of excess groceries that protect my abs, so I’m not complaining. But I’m very surprised to find an expansion in girth.
Maybe I’ll have that Ovaltine now instead of a chocolate bar. And as long as I’m not just letting it go bad in the back of the fridge, maybe I’ll switch from whole to 2% or 1% milk.
