Surfing Wheels

I've been hanging out in the back, surfing wheels, not doing any of the work up front. Maybe my silence has contributed to the So Faux Pro crew going over the edge?

It's actually been a busy couple of weeks. There's no more time available, but things take a hell of a lot longer. Can't find my keys in the morning? Well there goes half an hour. Getting cereal takes enough time to cook Peking Duck. At work, I'm probably up to around 35% of capacity. It's tough to be a project manager when you can't really walk around the site, so I spend most of my day siting on my ass in the office on the phone and playing librarian/Yoda.

One thing I have been able to do is go to the gym, for almost two weeks now. I joined the Washington Sports Club in Friendship Heights to help with rehab. I'm not a huge gym guy, but this was the right move for now. I can't yet ride outside (apart from the risk of a nasty fall, leading to further school abscences, a mechanical would lead to some ridiculous problems) and riding on the trainer all summer and winter would surely kill me.

The primary things I've been doing are riding on a spinning bike, doing the hand bike and core exercises. I'm looking forward to being able to do a greater variety of things, like the mountain on a stick thing, when I can put more weight on my bad leg. On the spinning bike, it's pretty evident that I've lost a massive amount of leg strength. Take one look at my leg for one second and learn the same thing. But it's coming back, as I'm averaging about an hour probably six times a week. I almost have a calf again. The hand bike thing is great. It's the first upper body workout that I've ever enjoyed. Core exercises are something new for me, but pretty good. My stomach muscles pretty much hurt all the time, as do my ass muscles.

The funniest thing is that my upper body looks pretty jacked. Getting around on crutches has done a couple of things. My chest, shoulders and triceps are significantly more developed than they've been in a long time, and the heels of my palms have massive calluses. I don't look nearly as lean as when I'm riding a ton, but that's expected. I'm a couple of pounds heavier, right around 170, with some of my vanished leg muscle having moved upstairs.

There are going to be two wicked shitty things about this from a bike racing perspective. First is that racing is so, so far away. How am I not going to burnout? The other thing, probably worse, is that all my closest team mates will be 3s by the time I race again. We had an awesome time getting our shit together this winter and spring and were having solid results. I was flying at Poolesville, my last race, and seemed ready to get my freak on. Now I guess the plan is just to enter the season in ripping form with, you know, about six months of base training behind me and get the hell done with Cat 4.

And yeah, the world is falling apart. The real shit is still flying across the room, having just left the thrower's palm, just beginning its journey toward the fan. But that is a story for another day.