rite of initiation

Well, despite all the flowery language of my last post, the romance was short lived.  I still love my bike, and I plan on going for a ride on it at least once a week, but we've had a time, me and my bike.  Here's a little flavor for you:

Sadly, this knee is mine--my very own gory glory.  Mr. Bump and I went for what ended up being a 22 mile bike ride up in Loveland this weekend, and I suppose fortunately for me, this happened at about mile 21.  I was tired.  There was a curb that should have been low enough to mount onto the bike path.  But it was a little too high. I was too tired. And I was probably going too fast.  My front wheel made it ok, but the back one managed to not quite make it up onto the curb, and proceeded to slide along past the curb's lowest point.  Much chaotic wavering insued, followed by my ejection from the bike. I (thankfully) hit the dirt on the other side of the bike path, but I (unfortunately) did so with the side of my face and my right wrist.  My knee drug along behind me on the concrete. Hence the nasty scrape.  Honestly, I was really, really lucky, and this is why:

1) I was wearing a helmet.
2) My head hit dirt instead of concrete.
3) I didn't totally trash my new bike. 

There were a few scrapes along one fender, and one of the pedals has changed its shape on the end, but Mr. Bump had already ordered new pedals for it anyway, so I'm not too bothered. 

Here's what I learned from this experience.  Always, always wear a helmet. Gloves help too so you don't get your palms all scraped up.  Slow down.  Seriously.  And when you're tired, bear that in mind because your reflexes might not be as you would wish them to be. 

Mr. Bump assured me that this kind of thing could happen to even the most experienced rider, and he's definitely come home from his normal commute with road rash on knee, elbow and shoulder.

The other thing I discovered is how much my thought processes have changed over the last few years.  My first thought was "ooh, I smacked my head really hard there." Second was, "Shit, I have a 12 mile run to do with this scraped knee tomorrow." And third was "my bike!  How's my bike?" 

Two years ago I wouldn't have gotten right back on that bike and ridden it the 1.5 miles we had left on our ride. Two years ago there would have been no way I would have gone for any run, let alone a 12 mile one.  But I got back on the bike, and yesterday I ran, and it was fine.  It probably even helped work out some of the soreness.

However, there remains quite a bit of soreness, today.  My right arm would really prefer not to go over my head. And I don't think I broke my wrist, but it hurts like the dickens nonetheless. 

But I broke my bike in, and myself as a cyclist.  I haven't had a skinned knee since I was younger than 12. 

summer + new bicycle = joy

 Today happens to be Bike to Work Day, and I was fortunate enough to pick up my brand new bike last night, in time for an inaugural bike ride to work this morning.  I love it more than it's probably cool to admit, but it's beautiful and easy to ride.  All it needs is a bike bell and a basket and I'm set.

I love to run, and I don't have any plans to stop, but it's nice to be excited about something else, and it's what we call cross-training, my dears.  We also call it F.U.N.

I hope wherever you are, whatever chaos you're up to your neck in in your life right now, that you're able to take a moment to remember what a simple pleasure it is to stand up on your pedals and sprint, to ride along "No Hands!" and to coast down a long hill.  Summer is officially here.

no day is a good day

that starts with a pile of dog vomit in your bed.  Blergh. Mr. Bump didn't love his dinner last night, so he set the remaining mushrooms and sauce on the floor for Ruby to finish off.  Apparently it didn't agree with her either, and she didn't want to bother us, so she just threw up in the bed between us.  On the comforter, and the sheets, which bled through to the mattress pad but thankfully not the mattress.  I'm not sure when she did it, but it was an unpleasant wake-up call.

But!  There have been good things happening, too.

Like this:

And by that I mean the diamond earring you can see in my left ear.  Yes!  I finally, FINALLY, got myself those earrings.  This isn't the best picture of them, but I do love them so.  They aren't huge, but they're big enough for me, and they're wearable, which I have been doing without a break since I got them.  It will probably mean that I'll have to clean them more often, but I don't care.  The point of them is to remind me of what I've accomplished and what that means to me.  And how important it is to keep working on it, every single day.

And with that in mind, I must admit that since the marathon, I've gained a couple of pounds.  Quite honestly three to four.  So the earrings also are a reminder to get back to basics, and so that's where I am.  With my food log, and my exercise, and all that hard work.  Mostly I think they are the result of eating like I'm running 25-30 miles a week, while actually not running any.  Whoopsie.

So I'm back to hitting the pavement, too.  I took three or so weeks off, and then one half-hearted week where I ran once.  But I'm back, baby!  And trying to figure out some new training goals, which is tough.  I feel really at sea without a goal, and without a goal I have been re-introduced to those three to four pounds.

I thought about a triathalon for a bit, but the lack of someplace to train and the amount of gear required were offputting to me.  I love to swim, I like to ride my bicycle (Queen reference!), and running is my bag. But trying to find a place to swim that isn't the teeny tiny rec center pool has been a challenge.  So for right now, I think that I'll let that go, although I am going to try and do more cross-training this summer.  We're on the cusp of the purchase of a new bike for me (so exciting!), and it's between this one and this one.  So I hope to use that a bit, too. 

I cringe to put this out there, but without accountability, I'm a backslider.  I think I'm going to try another marathon.  In the fall.  *Cringe*  I'm thinking about the Mountain Air Marathon, which is at some elevation, but is again downhill, and isn't a big marathon.  So there you go.  I said it.  So much for keeping it under my hat, Mr. Bump!  I'm competitive enough to really want to try and run it under 5 hours.  Anyway, what this means is I'm back on a training schedule.  Which is good for me--I do well with structure.  What I don't do so well with is heat, which we've been enjoying in our neck of the woods lately.  I ran last night at 8:30, then got up this morning and left the house to run in to work at 5:45.  Both runs were very sweaty, and it has been very hard to get control of my heart rate.  I only took a few weeks off, so I can't imagine that the difference is in my fitness.  The heat is killer.  I don't remember how I did it last year when I was training for the half.  I predict a lot of early mornings in my future.  Hopefully ones free of dog vomit.

ok, i'm just going to say it

Riding the bicycle sucks. It hurts my knees, I don't get much of a cardio workout from it, and my butt really hurts when I'm done. I will concede that much like running, when done out in nature it is much more enjoyable. But then I run the risk of interacting with cars, which terrifies me. Let me give you some examples why:

Once, when I lived in Davis I was trying to go around behind a car on my beach cruiser and the car backed up into my leg. Once Mr. Bump and I were on a ride and I tried to shift while pushing down on a pedal and the rear wheel and all its bits came out the back end in the middle of the street. And then, of course, there is the fact that my husband got hit by a car while riding his bike home from work and broke his face so much they had to screw it back together with plates and screws.

So yeah, I'd like to keep the bike on the stand, if you don't mind. Which brings me back to my point at the beginning--the bike sucks. But I keep hearing all this jabber about trying different forms of exercising, switching it up, burning fat at lower heart rate, etc.

Mr. Bump is always very sweet about making sure I have everything I might need for cycling. In fact, this year on Bike to Work Day I actually joined him and biked to work. He was kind enough to take a more isolated yet slower route which required us to walk our bikes up and over a bridge above the railyard. He doesn't sail out in front of me when we're riding, and he even will run interference with cars by edging further out into the road while he follows behind me.

I've always run alone. It's my thing. Maybe it's a little John Wayne (or probably more aptly Clint Eastwood) of me, but I like it that way. I get inside my head, I listen to my music, and I spend some time thinking about myself, my goals, what I want and how I'm going to get it. I don't have to run at someone else's pace, or stop when they feel like stopping. But when Mr. Bump expressed an interest in going for a run with me, I knew I had to step up to the plate.

So yesterday I had the day off (yay Veterans!) and Mr. Bump took the day off. And among the errands we jotted down as possible ways to pass the day was "go for a run together." I wasn't sure it would happen, but hey, I put it on the list, didn't I? As the day progressed, the weather was perfect--crystal clear and in the 70s, and I really wanted to get a run in for myself, so I transitioned into actually going for a run rather than maybe.

So we went for a run. Mr. Bump wore one of his cycling shirts and a pair of nylon shorts, and some sneakers. They were New Balance shoes, but more than likely not of the running persuasion (I'm not sure, actually, what their purpose is). We set off for my normal short 3 mile run from our house to Berkeley lake, around the lake and back home. I was itching for a bit longer run so he said he would just walk while I ran a second lap around the lake, which was fine with me. I decided we should do intervals, so we started out walking 2 minutes, running 1 minute, the progressed until we flip-flopped those two.

Here's how it went (it's getting late and I'm cutting to the chase (ha!)): Mr. Bump is 6 foot 2 inches tall, and about 110% of that is leg. So he has this incredible impala-like gait. I run more like a warthog (the similarities stop there, please). So he tried running shorter strides, and I tried running faster, and so we had some pace issues. But Mr. Bump has all the lung capacity you could ever wish for, and the cardiovascular system to go with it. So he was comfortable with the walk/run intervals--so much so that he wanted to take that second lap around the lake with me. The truth is that it was hard to run with him. I felt like I couldn't keep up. I was the one who had been running for 10 months now, I was the one who had just finished a half-marathon a month ago, and here he was outpacing me on his first run. (I had my vengance later than night and the next day, when Mr. Bump had to pound the advil.) This was frustrating. This was hard because I enjoyed being with him but I just wanted to breathe in and out and do my own thing. Also because I wanted to be the show-off and I couldn't pull that off if he kept running out in front of me. I never settled down and just focused on me, my breathing, my alignment, etc. I was always thinking about if Mr. Bump was ok, if we were going too fast or not fast enough, etc. I imagine his sentiments on a bike ride with me are similar.

But, it was lovely to have someone to talk to. It was lovely to try and match my husband's stride. It was lovely to return the favor for all the care he's given me on all the bike rides we've taken together. And it was lovely to beat him in the sprint on the last few yards home, even if, as I suspect, he let me win.