Blue Monday

Date: Jan. 22
Mileage: 33.0
January mileage: 576.5
Temperature upon departure: 29

Lots of visitors stopped by the blog today. I looked into it, and it turns out if you do a Google search for ‘depressing Blue Monday,’ this blog is second on the list.

I’m happy to have this distinction, because otherwise I would have forgotten that today was, in fact, “Blue Monday,” officially the most depressing day of the year. It’s the day when miserable weather, mounting debt, loss of the holidays, lack of motivation and stunted New Year’s resolutions finally catch up to people. So a British psychologist took all of these factors and actually created a mathematical formula to determine that yes, the third Monday in January is in fact as bad as it gets.

I like to mark Blue Monday because, regardless of what you think about randomly-well-publicized-but-otherwise-arbitrary scientific studies, it doesn’t hurt to believe that the year’s only going to look up from here. And what better way to celebrate a sad winter day than to go out for a bike ride?

I actually convinced Geoff to ride with me this morning. We stepped outside into weather that was completely unbelievable. You’d really have to live where I live to find it unbelievable. The temperature was perfect - 29 degrees - warm enough to shed a layer but not so warm it makes everything melty and sloppy. The sky was mostly cloudy, which in Juneau means “almost sunny.” And, most astonishingly, there was no wind. No wind at all. Geoff and I both agree that this was the first day since October free of all the typical factors, of which we nearly always have at least two: precipitation, wind and cold.

We set out south along a corridor lined with fresh snow piles that tumbled down the other day when the city set off a series of avalanche-control rockets. The road was so dry that we could hear our studded tires crackling on the pavement. Subdued sunlight sparkled on the water, so smooth I could see reflections of blue-hued clouds as they shifted across the sky. Geoff and I talked for a while about what the Sustina 100 will be like - the crushing pain, the endless night-lapsed day. Nothing could be further from reality on Blue Monday, when legs spin so easy its almost as if our wheels are alive.

Some cyclists call these “no chain” days - days so fast and effortless that pedaling is like spinning a crank cut loose of all resistance. I decided to head north after Geoff turned homeward. I ended up riding almost 20 more miles, despite intending to only put in a 15-mile day. Sugar coasted over the dry ice and crackling snow. It’s been a while since my mountain bike and I spent a morning together, and it seemed a good day to let him fly. I turned around when my watch told me I had to, looking back wistfully as the smokey reflection of the sun rolled lazily to the southwest. It’s days like Blue Monday that I could ride forever, and would if given the chance.

Eating disorder

Date: Jan. 21
Mileage: 29.0
January mileage: 543.5
Temperature upon departure: 35

One thing I have never figured out how to do is eat well while bicycling. It sounds so simple. Even sitting here tonight, contemplating turning the pedals and munching down some Power Bars, I think "that sounds simple enough." For some reason, it never works as well in practice. It's not that I don't want to eat. It's not that I am trying to lose a pound a day by completing 8-hour rides on a couple hundred calories (although wouldn't it be nice if it were that simple?). No ... I don't eat because my body tells me I can't.

It does this in several ways. When I'm cycling, most of my normal triggers turn off. I can ride and ride and ride, and as long as I keep riding, I will never feel hungry. My blood sugar will crash. My hands will start shaking. But I'll never feel hungry. However, I do eat, to ward off the hand shakes. In these situations, eating anything is about as much fun as chugging down Alka Seltzer. So I stick with things that are fast and easy and pack a lot of calories in small bites. I like to eat things with lots of sugar, because it digests so quickly. I stick pretty much exclusively to peanut butter sandwiches, granola/Power bars, and fruit leather/fruit snacks. I also like Gatorade, but drinking it exclusively makes me sick to my stomach. So if I only have one bottle/bladder, water it is.

All of this eating usually has the short-term positive effect of an energy surge followed by a long, debilitating stretch of nausea. I've tried some remedies to ward this off. Pepto Bismal pills; antacid pills; drinking more water after eating; drinking less water after eating; experimenting with different foods (I keep giving Gu and other gels second chances, but they usually only serve to worsen the situation because I find the texture so repulsive.) And you know what's worked best for me? PB&J, Power Bars and fruit snacks (and sometimes turkey jerky) ... the longer between doses, the better.

I have been interested in giving liquid nutrition a try. But Hammer Heed and other products are pretty expensive. I can't really afford to use them throughout my training, and it would be idiotic to pull a complete switch during a race. My attempts with Gatorade haven't been so successful. The caloric intake is still pretty small, and drinking exclusively Gatorade only seems to prolong the nauseated feeling once it hits. So I usually go for the tried and true method of avoiding food while on the bicycle. I'm sure it affects my performance, but so far, it hasn't affected my health.

One thing I've learned about eating and riding is that everyone has their own methods and foods that work for them. I'm wondering if anyone out there also has to deal with what seems to be an unfair amount of gastrointestinal stress while riding, and, if so, what do you do to get around it? I just have a sensitive tummy that was raised on a fairly sugary diet, doesn't take too kindly to digesting large amounts of fat during workouts (really ... cheese and nuts are out), and doesn't seem to know what to do with technology food with ingredients like leucine and maltodextrin (but loves loves loves caffeine.) It seems all of these traits fall outside the "normal" range, so I've never found a catch-all solution. But I keep looking.

Clipless-less

Date: Jan. 20
Mileage: 25.1
January mileage: 514.5
Temperature upon departure: 35

In a post a couple of days ago, I thought I was admitting to a fleece fetish, but instead I was confessing a woeful lack of what some consider a basic piece of essential bike gear - the clipless pedal. It must have been quite the confession, because I have since been a peripheral part of at least a couple debates.

I own three bikes - a "Roadie" that is really more of a light touring bike, a full-suspension mountain bike and a rigid big-tired mountain bike built for the main purpose of riding on snow. The first two have platform pedals with plastic cages. The "Snaux Bike" has only an oversized set of studded platform pedals and no grips. Of the three, the Snaux Bike has my favorite set-up. I find the total lack of pedal barriers freeing, especially on a bicycle where my day-to-day foot gear ranges from a small pair of indoor track shoes to a triple-sock stuffed pair of Northface winter boots buried in N.E.O.S. overboots. And the pedals are so sticky that I don't even notice a real difference in the grip-ability between those and my cage-covered pedals. Call me an idiot. If I can't find much advantage to cages, am I really going to be blown away by clipless?

But I'll concur. I've only tried clipless a couple of times, and any initial feelings of positive connectedness were quickly buried in the embarrassment and frustration of tumbling sideways when I simply wanted to stop. It was about three years ago, when I swapped bikes with a friend during a short ride. She told me I'd love it and I believed her. I fell once and she laughed at me. The second time, she seemed annoyed. The third and times thereafter, I managed to yank my feet out of the bindings. But the prospect of falling again stressed me so badly that I couldn't even focus. I spent much of the time riding unclipped, pressing down on those obnoxiously small pedals with my toes. I was still pretty new to biking, but that experience cemented a rigid aversion to clipless.

Now that three years have passed, and I have more than a passing interest in going faster, I probably should revisit the clipless pedal. But I still have a pretty limited frame in which I'm even interested in using them - only during the summer months, and only on my road bike. I can't even imagine trying to integrate them into winter cycling. First of all, I can't even clip into my cross-country ski bindings when they're really packed with icy snow. Secondly, I'd have to buy at least two different sizes of shoes to compensate for my varying thicknesses of neoprene and wool sock layers. Third, some snowy trail riding involves as much walking as cycling, and I have doubts that those skinny shoes can double as comfortable hikers. Fourth, some snowy trail riding involves as much falling as walking, and I need the confidence in my ability to bail. Fifth - in a word, overflow. I still haven't figured out a system to keep my feet completely dry in all situations. But if I was wearing clipless pedal shoes, I never would.

I know there are winter cyclists out there who use clipless pedals exclusively. Those cyclists are more hardcore than I am, and I would wager that they've had more brushes with frostbite. Besides, I like the flexibility of moving my legs and feet independently of the machine they're operating, of choosing my foot gear based on whatever suits me, of lifting both legs high in the air when I'm happy and coasting. Someday, I will make an effort to go fast. But for now, I just want to make an effort to go everywhere.