A Dusting in the Hills

Shad with a Dusting, November 12, 2013

And suddenly it is COLD. 34 degrees when I set out. It was probably silly to ride today, certainly unnecessary, this is the fifth consecutive day riding. I haven't managed to do that in years. But the cycling cosmos seemed to line up this weekend and today, well, I had a choice but I didn't have a choice. What I had was the afternoon off from work in advance of a late-day dentist appointment and, while it had spit rain and sleet overnight, by noon the roads were dry and there was no precipitation to be seen.

So I had to ride.

But it was cold. And gray. No real sun.

Again the paper bag in the jersey. Today, multiple layers. Long underwear leggings & tights. Booties. Full hoodie. Winter gloves with liners. Five upper body garments (+ bag). And I was warm. Truly. Completely comfortable the entire ride.

I'd questioned my decision-making upon setting out but after only a couple miles out I realized that I nailed the clothing test and I'd be fine for the duration. For a brief mad moment I considered trying to rush up Wachusett again, but thought better of it.

Turns out the rain and sleet in Lemonstar proved to be more substantial in the western hills. Not exactly an accumulation but a white shroud over everything evoked the colder, harsher days to come. Reminded me that, while the streets may be clear in the lower elevations, as soon as you start climbing into the hills west of town, even a little elevation makes a difference.

November 12, 2013 in the Western Hills

Once you develop serious momentum, once you cobble together a string of rides, once you start to achieve a level of fitness that allows for longer rides, then you can no longer control yourself. Riding becomes the paramount concern on a daily basis. Will I have time to ride? Will the weather be good for riding? Will the light last long enough for an after work ride? It becomes all about putting miles under the wheels.

Not to mention the single-mindedness born of successful weight loss. Every bite becomes considered, every meal evaluated for calories. Snacking is anathema. Losing weight becomes a competition with yourself. Beer acceptable only on riding days. Ice cream a seldom treat. Embrace of fresh greens, crispy apples, raw nuts, yogurt and berries. Being the correct weight for one's height is incredibly empowering. How did I allow myself to grow so heavy for so many years? Easy, actually. I've never had a problem eating more than I need. Gluttony was once a badge of honor.

These are different days now. These are days of physical and mental challenges. Moderation in consumption, excess in exercise. Compulsive movement. Winter threatens. I'll be off the bike for weeks at a stretch. I dread the thought of re-gaining even 5 lbs. I haven't even whispered at 150 lbs since early in September. Incredibly enough, back when overeating was routine, I thought of my "riding weight" as 160 lbs. As in, I thought I was "in shape" if I managed to get down to 160. Now? If I "balloon up" to 150, I'll be mortified.

I'll always remember reading a piece about Lance Armstrong. Someone asked him how you can be a better climber. His answer was simple: lose weight. Either body weight or bike weight or both but you'll climb better when you're lighter. I've learned that that is absolutely true. Lance didn't lie about that, at least.

The View from Ride # 88

Ride Stats: #88, 17.9 miles (28 km), 12.5 mph, 1 hour 24 minutes in the saddle. Temp approximately 33 degrees. Sholan Loop. A dusting of snow in the hills.