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June 29, 2006
what a difference
I'm finally back to normal. I woke, and had energy. Wuhoo! I did some cleaning, and then I jumped on the bike and rode into work.
I decided to take the Eastbank Esplanade rather than the path in Tom McCall since it's a smidge more difficult. It felt good. I felt strong. So strong, indeed, that I crossed the Hawthorne Bridge at 9mph.
Now those of you who are strong cyclists, who are at the recommended weight on the insurance charts, I know this is no big deal to you. Sheesh, yeah, why would anyone celebrate 9 piddly miles an hour?
I usually cross the Hawthorne Bridge at about 4mph. I can walk faster than that! But by that point, I'm starting to tire.
This morning, I was starting to tire as well, but obviously not as much as previously. I've got to celebrate that.
...
I have two immediate goals, and one short-term goal. The immediate ones are to visit the gym today, to exercise over my lunch rather than working through it, and to get a hair appointment (Okay, I guess that's three, but the first two are really combined).
The short-term goal is to fit nicely into my favorite jeans. They fit over the weekend... hopefully when I try them on tomorrow, they'll fit even better.
June 27, 2006
stealing inspiration
I'm feeling kinda low energy today, so I can use all the help I can get. I was reading Brent's Poignant Irrelevance, and I came across this from an Outside article about Floyd Landis:
There's only one rule: The guy who trains the hardest, the most, wins. Period. Because you won't die. Even though you feel like you'll die, you don't actually die. Like when you're training, you can always do one more. Always. As tired as you might think you are, you can always, always do more. --LandisThe phrase that Brent took away is Feed the Goal.
keep walking past that crap and chew some gum. feed the goal. that is my new mantra for the summer. very simple. focus on the goal, and feed it appropriately. both must be in sync. http://metrxman.blogspot.com/2006/06/feed-goal.html
I'm gonna try to keep that in mind.
June 26, 2006
Bike Fair!
Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's my psoas. Either way, I've been moving slower than I'd like since Saturday.
The Bike Fair was fabulous! Sweetie and I went and got brekkie, and then dropped off the water and sunscreen at the park about 9:30 am as volunteers were just beginning to raise the tents.
I made it to the park in record time, 15 minutes. (And yes, I wore the schmatte)
By the time I got back at 12:45, things were starting to look like they were going to happen. Jeff was all set up, ready to size folks for helmets. Jonathan had the craft area up. The pedal-powered smoothie stand was in process. Everyone was working on their area: beer, the stage, the food, the bike portraits, etc. Bike clubs were starting to set up their club houses.
A volunteer area was already set up, next to the t-shirt sales. After a quick walk-around, I stationed myself there and the volunteers started streaming in.
People came in early. People came in late. People showed up for the wrong shift, or just showed up. Everyone was astounding patient with the process, which inevitably involved some waiting, and then some frantic needs all of the sudden. All my volunteers were troopers.
Early on, it was clear that my psoas was not happy. I'd try to find some out of the way place to stretch, but stretching seemed to be just a momentary relief, and anyways, people would kinda freak when they'd see me stretching. Are you okay? So, I just tried to be as comfortable as I could be, and make other people happy.
I had invited some cow-orkers as well as the Texiles, and I saw some contingents of both. The Texiles, in particular, were effusively happy—I've found my people!, Bill would exclaim, gesturing at people wearing costumes, clown paint, garish wigs, goofy clothes.
When my relief came, I immediately went to the bike wedding that I had been invited to. One of the events at the Bike Fair was to Marry your Bike, and one of my volunteers was very excited about doing just that. Lo and behold, her parents came to give her away, and her sibs were there as support as she married her Schwinn road bike. So sweet. It nearly made me cry.
Then I found the Texiles and stood with them in a shady spot, watching the rodeo. Sweetie arrived, and we got in the beer line, which I sucked down altogether too fast. Then another. Meanwhile, the Sprockettes performed, then Johnny Punchclock, then the tall bike jousting.
When everything was done and said, I was exhausted, limp like a, well, I'm not entirely sure. We went down the street to get a slice and some more beer, and then went to catch the bus home.
Here in Portland, we have racks on the front of our buses for bikes, and I have used them successfully a number of times. However, my tiredness and quite possibly the beer I had drunk was catching up with me. I couldn't get the bike on quickly, and then a passenger ran out and started yelling at me that it wouldn't fit on the rack and I needed to ride it home.
I was just too tired to argue.
Not that I minded riding it home... but I just wanted to go home with Sweetie, rather than him on the bus and me on the bike. But in the end that was how it was, and it was fine. Riding home was a bit uphill, and it took me about a half hour, but it was tremendously pleasurable to be riding down neighborhood streets at twilight. I actually made it home before him, and sat out on the stoop, drinking a beer, waiting for him. Nice.
...
Yesterday, I spent the majority of the day prone. It was just too hot to do much of anything.
...
And today, I'm just spent. Everyone I meet appears drained.
June 24, 2006
the problems with dressing myself
Today is the Multnomah County Bike Fair. I can't wait!!
It's funny though. I've been having the usual obsessive clothing thoughts. What am I going to wear? How am I going to look appropriate?
I go through this with just about any entree into any group, my feeling that I should look a particular way to fit in, and that not fitting in is the worst thing that could happen. Knowing I do this doesn't unfortunately help me not do this, it just gives me a laugh that I'm on the merry-go-round again.
But the thing is, I don't want to be someone else: I want to be me, gloriously me, and fit in because I'm me.
I could wear a skort, and I'm tempted, really to wear a skort. It's going to be hot today, and sunny. The skort has lots of pockets. But I'm afraid the skort is too "spandexy", too corporate cycling. And yet. VJ, this is supposed to be a bridging event. This is supposed to be for all cyclists. Dood, get a grip.
There's the other thought, too, that my legs just aren't what they used to be.
I had this thought, this memory, of when I see attractive, fat women downtown. They're gorgeous, and I'm not sure what differentiates them from the rest of us. Care? Self-esteem? Getting laid that morning? Who knows?
Anyways, at this point it's between the skort with a tshirt, and an old dress from K-Mart. The old dress is probably 15 years old. Right now it's kinda tight. I ripped a big hole out of the back of it on a bike a year or two back, so I no longer wear it to work. It's always seemed like a schmatte to me, but I always get compliments when I wear it. Right now, the dress is winning, but we'll see how everything comes out in the wash.
June 22, 2006
Back on the bike
I rode my bicycle this morning! I rode my bicycle this morning!!
It felt so good to get back on it, and felt so good to be riding it. So far, this morning, I'm just having twinges of acheyness, which is a cue to get up and stretch. I figure this afternoon I can ride it home, or not, though if I do ride it home, I'll probably walk up the inclines, just cuz.
This just feels huge. I am so thrilled.
...
So, I've set a goal for myself: no beer, and no coffee drinks, until I fit into my old favorite jeans. It's not a huge commitment: I could button them when I put them in the other closet; they were just too snug to be comfortable. I had someone on the bus the other day ask if I was knitting for my grandchild, so I guess while I feel like I'm 27, I don't look it anymore—so, no tight jeans for you. The goal is that they will be comfortable again.
Last night I got home, and I was itchy for a beer. I thought about running up the stairs and trying on the jeans. And then I thought: it's not going to hurt me to wait til the weekend to try on the jeans.
...
Music today:
Gnarls Barkley: Crazy, Jamie Lidell: Multiply, Donner Party: Sickness
June 20, 2006
and thanks to everyone who wrote with support. I appreciate it more than you know!
the psoas -- very deep
After the histronic post of yesterday, I feel like I need to give you an update.
Yesterday afternoon, I went to the masseuse at the sport medicine clinic . I started telling her about the fact that the only tender spot was on my hip, though I was having pain that got my entire low back. She said, I wonder if it's your psoas (pronounced soaz)? She started asking questions, and asking more questions and finally she said, yep, I think it's your psoas.
The psoas is your hip flexor. It can compensate for a quite a few different things: weak abdominals, weak quads, weak glutes, weak hamstrings.
I started noticing that the range of motion for my left leg was compromised maybe a month and a half ago... which would be about the time I quit going to pilates. Hmm.
So, she spent the entire session working on it. It's down deep, stretching between your inner thigh and connecting the spine at your inner back, so the massage was very intense, and I had to stop her a couple of times. It didn't feel any better afterwards, but I did. I had a name, I had a stretch, and I had a better idea of what had caused it.
Anyhow, my bicycling home, with its slight uphill grade, had aggravated it, because I had worked other muscles to exhaustion. It got markedly worse once Sweetie had leant his bike to a friend (who's had it now for over a month), and I started riding Pinky the three speed almost every day rather than the 24 speed. It's not surprising that it finally said when after a week of bike commuting, and riding all over creation, me pushing myself and pushing myself and pushing myself.
I went home afterwards and was prone for the rest of the day. Today, I feel hugely better—even brief periods of being pain and ache free.
I feel significantly more optimistic today as well. While things aren't as I want them to be, and I feel like there's a lot of examination that needs to happen on my part, I feel like the road to better things isn't entirely barracaded.
Yesterday, I felt stuck. I was annoyed that I was in pain, and I was annoyed that I was a whiner. Today, I have a little more compassion for myself, and hopefully for others. When I hurt, I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I'm changing positions, I'm stretching, and I'm recognizing that I need a little more rest than I'd like.
I'm making a baby blanket for a coworker. Today was the shower, and the baby blanket is undone. But I'm almost 2/3 done. It's not how I would have it in a perfect world—but this isn't a perfect world, and the baby blanket will be as good when I deliver it to her in a couple of days.
June 19, 2006
I need an adjustment
I've been making a determined effort to be upbeat in these posts, but dammit, I'm having a rough time.
My lower back issue seems to be a combination of my torqued pelvis and some muscle imbalance, and it was steadily improving... until Saturday. I came home from the Bike Summit and stayed prone the rest of the day. On Sunday, we ran to the store for a quick errand, and well before it was over, I was wracked with pain.
Today, Monday, more of the same. Dammit.
I had been hoping that I could go to the athletic trainer today to talk about what I need to do to be back amongst the able-bodied, but I'm really in too much pain.
...
I went to the Bike Summit on Saturday, and it was very positive and energizing for the most part.
But I have to say, there are times I hate being a fat person, and this was one of them. There was a huge turnout, and it appeared that there were maybe 5 people there who eat cheese. Everyone else vegan-thin. There were exactly two fat people there, and I was one of them.
There was lots of talk in the main room, or so it seemed, about obesity. On one hand, of course I'm all for preventing obesity—I know the health risks, the costs, the stigma. And yet, it's a little optimistic to think that if people bicycle, they'll lose weight. I bicycle. I walk more than most people. I take the stairs. By all accounts, I'm very active. And I'm dieting, and I seem to be growing at what I would have thought was an unsustainable pace. I've regained all the weight I've lost, and it appears my body is dead set upon putting on another 40#.
Maybe it's my age that's helping, maybe my crash dieting in my 20s. Who knows? All I know is, it's disturbing.
Can you say pariah?
I know it's the fucked up stuff in my head that's getting in my way—no one was talking about me. But while the intro, and the two workshops really were good, and made me feel impowered, the closing panel didn't. And I don't think it was anything that was said, honestly. It was probably just my feeling tired... my lower back hurting, and feeling like I didn't really know anyone—even though I do know people. Not a lot, but there are people I recognize, and some people I've even introduced myself to.
Looking back on it now, I know I should have just gone home before the closing. I just should have recognized that, but I didn't.
...
I had to box up my office on Friday. The office was getting painted and recarpeted, all very nice, and I have to say, it does look very nice. I didn't throw out as much as I should have, but I did some dunging out, and it was quite good. This morning, as I was unpacking, I threw out more.
At home, this weekend, I cleaned out my closet. It was good, and sad, and scary, to see that I've outgrown most of my clothes, but it's a positive to get it out of my closet, so I can really see what I have to wear. Right now, not much.
I am having some tremendous house lust right now. I have to remind myself that my house is plenty big for two people, though right now it seems just big enough for the dog. I'm trying to let go of stuff. It's hard. I feel blocked to some extent, but, I keep chipping away.
June 13, 2006
grumble
I had all sorts of good news to report. Then yesterday, my lower back went out.
I can still walk and sit and stand—it's just painful, all of it. Sigh...
But last week was a lovely bikey week. I bike commuted every day, and on Wednesday, I had commuted out to the meeting and then home.
The Kickass Parade report
Thursday was the Kickass Parade, which was wonderful—a couple hundred bicyclists, from spandex wearers to bikefun folks to bike messengers to tall and long bike riders.
Thursday afternoon, Sweetie and meet and had conveyor belt sushi in the Pearl, our new fancy expensive industrial-loft district. While we were eating, it was pouring outside. And I had left my rain poncho at work.
So I ended up jumping on Sweetie's scooter, and running back to work. Well, running is the wrong word, as I suspect I could have walked it in the time it took. But once I had the poncho in hand, the rain stopped. And I headed over to Jamison Park.
By the time I got to the park, it was all but teeming with bicyclists. There were a couple of people that I recognized from the night before, but I was too shy to go over and say hi. I should have. I was just all caught up in that will-they-remember-me? they-won't-remember-me bullcrap. I talked to Jon briefly, and to Ayleen, and then introduced myself to a couple other people.
And then I saw Vespabelle and her husband, so I went over to chat with them. Nice!!
The parade went from the park down to Broadway and then south to Salmon, and then east to 4th, by the mall, etc, through Chinatown, and then west onto Glisan to 21st, and 21st to Northrup or somewhere close by, and back to the park.
For the most part, people cheered. One woman stomped noisy out of her SUV to talk to the policeman about having to wait.
I can't even tell you the pure joy I felt, riding in a sea of bicycles. Even really knowing nobody. I felt safe, and like I owned the road. Which isn't to say that riding in that sort of parade is easy, because people are moving around, speeding up, slowing down. But I felt euphoric.
While we were passing by House of Louie, an elderly chinese man was standing by the road, and I heard him say something. Maybe it was chinese? And then a couple blocks later I realized he said Pedal Power. Yeah!!
When we got back to the park, folks started riding through the aquifer at Jamison park.
The Breakfast on the Bridges Report—Hawthorne
As usual, I got to BonB at the very end, so I didn't stop and get coffee. But I introduced myself to Patrick and recognized Kristy, and should have introduced myself to the Police Officer who rides in Slug Velo. It was cool to see so many folks there.
Mocktails on the Bridge
okay, now this is the coolest. They had several tables of snacks and drinks, and were encouraging all bicyclists to stop and socialize. It was great. I recognized some people who don't know me. And then, I saw Jon (of course). Ian from the Bike Fair meeting reintroduced himself, and we chatted, and he in turn introduced me to several others.
While we were hanging out, a couple of Portland Police bike cops came through and stopped, had something to drink and chatted. Totally cool.
Jon ended up riding part of the way with me, which was just so nice. I'm so slow, I feel so guilty. In chatting, he said he has two bikes: a three-speed cruiser that is S-L-O-W, and his regular road bike which is fast. It made me feel better to hear that his three speed is slow too. So maybe it's not just me. (or, maybe it is!).
I ended up not doing the pub crawl. I suck. Basically, I had gotten an email from the host who was feeling well, and I didn't get the impression my services were needed. But I still felt like I should go, even though I was wore out from the week and just want to stay home with my Sweetie.
So I rode over to the pub, and rode around it several times. There wasn't really any legal bike parking and I didn't recognize anyone in the pub. Bad sign. My shyness took over and I turned tail and went home.
And that was all of my bikeyness. I don't even know if I could ride a bike now. Riding the scooter is pretty unpleasant, but realistically, being awake is pretty unpleasant. My body is thoroughly unhappy.
Which sucks. By the end of the week, I noticed that while I still appear to be growing exponentially, many parts of me, or, lets say all parts that don't need a bra were feeling significantly firmer. Like there might be muscles there. Even my belly appeared to slightly have some muscle tone. That's exciting stuff that I need to keep up.
June 8, 2006
V is for Vendetta
I can't believe how hard bicycling can be. I want to be a bike jock, and when I'm, say, heading to work, it's easy to feel like I'm king of the universe. And then I ride back home again, or ride to a meeting, and I'm nothing but a panting, granny-gear spinning, pile of sweat.
Anyways, I've bicycled all week. On Pinky.
I "fixed" the old Specialized, but it still isn't any fun to ride. It's markedly not fun. I don't like to think of myself as a fussy person, but obviously I am. Sigh! It's time to pass it along to someone who will love it and use it.
...
Daphne, our outdoor cat, has gotten herself into a scrape. She now has a quarter-sized bald spot on her side. She's probably 12 years old, and a robust cat, but I worry about her, and I think it's time she comes and lives inside.
Of course, Daphne is the cat who eats fabric. And plastic.
I see a lot of cleaning in my future.
...
Our friend Sue mentioned a new bar on Williams Street called Vendetta. We went and it was just lovely. The place has this elegant dog-trot/breezeway feel to it, with two garage doors opening to the street and into the garden and back porch. The beer selection wasn't great, but the food looked decent.
It was just this serene urbane place. We sat on the back porch, looking out at the garden, and at the kids playing along Skidmore, and man, all was right with the world. Do they have wifi? If so, I may have to move in.
...
Pedalpalooza begins today. Tonight is the Kickass Parade!
I started really thinking about decorating the bicycle this morning, which was several months too late. I gathered the silver scooter boa, and all the pink yarn I had handy, as well as some lavender giant knitting needles, and I think I'll put that in the basket.
I may make a trip to the dollar store over lunch to see if they have anything to accessorize Pinky. I'm game for some cheap garish pink things!
...
Last night, I had a meeting for the Multnomah County Bike Fair. I had gotten two emails about it, and it just never occurred to me that each email might specify a different time.
So I eat a fast dinner at Rose and Raindrop (note to self: happy hour mac-n-cheese is huge, and pretty good, and the mini-hamburgers approach greatness), and then pedal down to Colonel Summers Park. I get there at 6 sharp.
It's uphill, so I'm all pathetic, and out of breath when I get there. I look for bicycle-types... and don't really see anybody. There's a woman who's dumped her bike and her satchel on the ground and is talking on her cellphone, pacing back and forth, who won't make eye contact with me.
I sit there, in the wet grass, for twenty minutes, and finally I get up and leave. Riding home seems to be entirely uphill, and I feel like I have an ongoing opportunity to be a panting mess. A nice man on a tandem flirts with me; the neighborhoods are beautiful; it's breezy and sunny, and the weather really couldn't be better. If I wasn't all cranky, it would have been a great ride. And so finally, after an eternity, I get home.
I check my email, and yes, the email I had read said 6pm. The other email said 7pm. So I go back outside, jump on the scooter, and head back to the park.
You know that while I was waiting at the park at 6pm, I was thinking all those thoughts, you know, I'm not cool enough to be in their club, I'm too fat, I don't look like a bike messenger, I'm too capitalist, I'm not vegan, I'm fat, I don't have candy colored hair, I have a newish brand-name bike, I don't ride a fixie, I'm a wuss, I don't ride enough, etc...
And when I got there to the meeting, yes, I was the only fat person, but there seemed to be a mix of bike-messenger types, and spandex-wearers, and street clothes wearers. They were really friendly, really fun, really politically incorrect, obviously having a great time, and they seemed really happy that I was there. I felt relieved and relaxed almost immediately.
So when I came back home, I came back energized. This is gonna be good! I can't wait!!
June 5, 2006
Something good
I've been doing lots of cycling, and less walking, this week. The cycling has felt good—I feel like I'm getting stronger. And I've had lots of nice conversations while on the bike.
I did get a rain cape the other day, which has meant that it hasn't rained on my commute. Golden!!
As usual, the commute is the best part of my day. Even the ride home.
Lately, I've taking the bike lane on Williams back home. It's like a bike freeway, and the hills are more gradual than going through the neighborhood. The fact that I'm passed by tons of bicyclists who don't ever let me know they're passing bugs me, but hey. I still prefer riding through the neighborhood, I just need to get okay/better at tiny little hills.
I got a set of hex tools (I'm sure I already had a set, so this will allow me to find them) so I can tweak an old bike. Sweetie lent out his bike, so I'm going to be riding my old bike, most likely, during Pedalpalooza. I need to adjust the seat, and the shifting sucks on it... so I'll probably bring it by Bike Central and see if they can't make it better.
And then I've gotta do some training. Like tout suite. Pedalpalooza starts on Thursday, and my brew crawl is Friday!!
...
I've been obsessed about music over the last couple of days. I blame watching music videos from my youth. Anyways, I came across the video for the Talking Head's Nothing But Flowers.
I heard the song, or saw the video once. In 1988. I immediately went out and bought the album, and it's the only Talking Heads album I have. But I love the song, the golden rolling singing african-cameroonian guitars, and the infectious "you got it, you got it" bridge in the chorus.
After watching the video, I dunno, a dozen times, I noticed that Kirsty MacColl was in it. Oh my gosh!
But the next video was Kate Bush's Cloudbusting, not one of my favorite songs by her, but it has lodged itself into my head. Especially the line, I know that something good is going to happen.
Anyways, that's stuck in my head now.
