Tuesday, 14 June 2011.
The initial leg of my commute from home is often a source of misjudging how the ride will go. Since it is downhill through my crossing of the Monument Avenue bridge, it's easy to feel strong and fast. This morning was no different on the descent to the river, and it was during the route along the Mad River that I thought my legs feel like iron weights, and not at all like powerful steel pistons. After the exhilarating ride with Jeff Collier yesterday, my body today was exercising some grudge against me, avoiding any successful push to reach again the higher performance level.
Every aspect of a bike ride has its yin and yang. Today, as I approached and slowed for the Airway Boulevard crossing, an auto driver from the east slowed, stopped, and waved me forward. There were no other cars from either the east or west, so I resumed my spin and waved and mouthed a Thanks! to her as I crossed. Then as I slowed to approach the Burkhardt Avenue crossing, a black sports car from the east also slowed without clearly intending to stop, and I applied reverse pedal effort to stop my fixed gear before reaching the marked crossing. The car continued its slowed traverse of the crossing, the driver glared. I read his license plate "LTH 1" clearly as he continued to the west.
The last leg of my route, perhaps the most sociable part, is where I often meet the most people that I know by name. Today Millie was walking south to bring Gladys to their morning walk, and Paul (who I had fictionalized his name as Double-Dog-Jason) was heading north with his two dogs. Today's ride included a short errand off the bikeway—a jaunt across three parking lots to a Shell gas station to buy lottery tickets. One of my past lotto numbers was a winner of a whopping $2. So no retirement nest egg from the last purchase.
Ride conditions
Temperature: 54 to 59°F at 07:55, 64°F at 10:00
Precipitation: none
Winds: calm
Clothing: Skinsuit, ankle socks, open-finger gloves.
Bike: Lotus Legend fixed gear
Time: 00:45:35 for 12.30 miles
Heart rate: 124 bpm average, 143 bpm maximum
Bikeway users: 4 cyclists, 6 pedestrians, 4 dogs
Here is a playback of the ride.
Showing posts with label Millie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Millie. Show all posts
14 June 2011
25 May 2011
Bike-commute day 30—to work
Today was to be a sprint day, but my body wasn't into the ride at all as I pedalled along the lower river bikeways. It wasn't a time to push myself because of basic tiredness. Maybe a contributing factor is lower than optimal hydration. I remember thinking as I climbed into bed I should grab another glass of water; no, I want the juice-water mix, and it's too much trouble... and I was asleep.
So this morning I bought an 8-oz "juice beverage" to mix with a full styroglass of ice and LaCroix water for an all-day sippie. Perhaps I'll feel up to sprints this afternoon, though the bikeway may be too congested to do them. Maybe the best plan is one sprint on the curve from Woodman to Woodbine, another sprint up the hill near the frisbee golf course, and a third near the Kettering apartment village—all before I get to the gym and on less-used bikeways.
Three notable things happened this morning: several geese were conducting an école maternelle for about 35 goslings at the Green Bridge, I saw Millie and Gladys out on their walk for the first time this year, and I assisted a young woman who had taken a wrong turn and didn't know where she was.
Millie and Gladys are in their 70s, both with husbands at home who are affected by long-term health issues. I've known Gladys for perhaps three years, and Millie for at least two. Gladys lives in the area bounded by the bikeway and Woodman Avenue, somewhere a little south of Woodbine. Millie lives just west of the bikeway and about a block north of Woodbine. They walk together along the bikeway, and I usually see them in the stretch from Woodbine to Linden. Gladys is by far the more devoted to her morning exercise, and she is always the more forthcoming in what is happening in her life and the more inquisitive in how I'm doing. Millie has had periods off from walking, to allow recuperation from torn ligaments in her knees and the apparently poor surgical repairs to them. I described and performed several knee exercises for her this morning, which I prefaced with an explanation that they help strengthen the tendons that hold the patella in place and relieve achiness at the top and inside of the front of the knee.
While we three jabbered on the bikeway, a woman in her 20s passed us, going south. I had never seen her before in the morning, and her passing made me aware of the need to eventually get to work, so I said goodby to Millie and Gladys soon after. As I approached Woodman, there was the woman looking first at the bikeway signage, then up and down Woodman. As I passed I asked, "Are you lost? There aren't many ways to go here." She laughed and said, "Well, I think I really am lost. I rode from the Beavercreek hub this morning and went into Dayton. But I must have taken a wrong turn when I came back—I don't know how, though. And I really don't know where I am now." So I turned around, and told her that she mised a turn at the trestle, which she recognized as a landmark. Then I told here the simplest way back to the correct way home would be to turn back, cross two streets, and turn right at the T intersection beyond the trestle. She remembered the graffiti wall, and I used that as a landmark to place Linden Avenue for her, and to relate the trestle as being a block's distance north of Linden.
She seemed confident in the correct way home, so I took off for the remaining 2 miles of my commute.
Ride conditions
Temperature: 62°F at 06:55, 66°F at 07:55, 68 to 70°F at 10:20
Precipitation: none
Winds: calm to 5 mph from the southwest
Clothing: Skinsuit; ankle socks. Open-finger gloves.
Bike: Trek 850
Time: 00:45:33 for 11.89 miles
Heart rate: 132 bpm average, 147 bpm maximum
Bikeway users: 12 cyclists, 5 pedestrians, about 35 goslings
Here is a playback of the ride. 14th Garmin day.
So this morning I bought an 8-oz "juice beverage" to mix with a full styroglass of ice and LaCroix water for an all-day sippie. Perhaps I'll feel up to sprints this afternoon, though the bikeway may be too congested to do them. Maybe the best plan is one sprint on the curve from Woodman to Woodbine, another sprint up the hill near the frisbee golf course, and a third near the Kettering apartment village—all before I get to the gym and on less-used bikeways.
Three notable things happened this morning: several geese were conducting an école maternelle for about 35 goslings at the Green Bridge, I saw Millie and Gladys out on their walk for the first time this year, and I assisted a young woman who had taken a wrong turn and didn't know where she was.
Millie and Gladys are in their 70s, both with husbands at home who are affected by long-term health issues. I've known Gladys for perhaps three years, and Millie for at least two. Gladys lives in the area bounded by the bikeway and Woodman Avenue, somewhere a little south of Woodbine. Millie lives just west of the bikeway and about a block north of Woodbine. They walk together along the bikeway, and I usually see them in the stretch from Woodbine to Linden. Gladys is by far the more devoted to her morning exercise, and she is always the more forthcoming in what is happening in her life and the more inquisitive in how I'm doing. Millie has had periods off from walking, to allow recuperation from torn ligaments in her knees and the apparently poor surgical repairs to them. I described and performed several knee exercises for her this morning, which I prefaced with an explanation that they help strengthen the tendons that hold the patella in place and relieve achiness at the top and inside of the front of the knee.
While we three jabbered on the bikeway, a woman in her 20s passed us, going south. I had never seen her before in the morning, and her passing made me aware of the need to eventually get to work, so I said goodby to Millie and Gladys soon after. As I approached Woodman, there was the woman looking first at the bikeway signage, then up and down Woodman. As I passed I asked, "Are you lost? There aren't many ways to go here." She laughed and said, "Well, I think I really am lost. I rode from the Beavercreek hub this morning and went into Dayton. But I must have taken a wrong turn when I came back—I don't know how, though. And I really don't know where I am now." So I turned around, and told her that she mised a turn at the trestle, which she recognized as a landmark. Then I told here the simplest way back to the correct way home would be to turn back, cross two streets, and turn right at the T intersection beyond the trestle. She remembered the graffiti wall, and I used that as a landmark to place Linden Avenue for her, and to relate the trestle as being a block's distance north of Linden.
She seemed confident in the correct way home, so I took off for the remaining 2 miles of my commute.
Ride conditions
Temperature: 62°F at 06:55, 66°F at 07:55, 68 to 70°F at 10:20
Precipitation: none
Winds: calm to 5 mph from the southwest
Clothing: Skinsuit; ankle socks. Open-finger gloves.
Bike: Trek 850
Time: 00:45:33 for 11.89 miles
Heart rate: 132 bpm average, 147 bpm maximum
Bikeway users: 12 cyclists, 5 pedestrians, about 35 goslings
Here is a playback of the ride. 14th Garmin day.
08 March 2011
Bike commute day 3, to work
Temperatures: 34°F at 07:10, 36°F at 09:10
Clothing: Top with 3 layers (longsleeve poly-Spandex Reebok shirt, longsleeve skinsuit, closely-woven wool-acrylic cycling jacket); Bottom with 2 layers (skinsuit, Lycra tights); ankle socks; quilted gloves. (Cool, but comfortable body.)
Time: 0:53:xx for 12.5 miles
I opened this posting at 07:10 or 07:15, knowing I need to speed up my preparations to get out the door and on the bike. I had awakened this morning still tired, from a weird dream where my family doctor Barry was encouraging me to compete in the Gay Games coming up, in raquetball or swimming, and Chuck to compete in cycling. Still groggy, I struggled to slip off the wrist supports that I sleep with and shushed Howard from his snuffing and sneezing at my bare legs. Then up to tap off the alarm and pee, followed by my daily weigh-in. "Damn! 169 pounds, it says." So I pick up the 10-pound dumbbell beside the scale, step on again, let it register, step off and set down the weight, and step on again to see that the reading is now 168.0. I take that as the most accuracy I can get—"gotta get a more reliable scale," I think, write it on the weight record, and pull on some gym shorts and a tee. After I let Howard out of the bedroom and turn on the poster light over the stairs, I accompany him downstairs and to the kitchen. It's 05:39, time enough for the routine of turn on WYSO for Morning Edition, make a double latte, let Howard out, cut a slice of bread for toast, let Howard in, let Howard get the Wall Street Journal, sit and read the paper and take my daily pills and feed Howard in four portions of kibble, make another double latte, take Howard out to poop, bring him in and treat his ears with a fungus cleanser-preventer, treat him to a chondroitin, sit at the computer to check my email and record the morning temperature in the draft my blog. And today's routine has an added trip upstairs to place a bill on the printer-scanner, back downstairs to scan it to a file, enter the bill information in my spreadsheet, send the bill's due date and amount and scan to Chuck, and check for any recent payments that Chuck has made. That's why I sat writing at ten minutes after 7, "I've gotta hurry up if I wanna ride today. I still need to poop and dress for the ride. I've been tired this morning, not enough to keep from riding today, since it's supposed to rain tonight and tomorrow." So I pushed out of the chair, headed upstairs for—as they said in the 18th Century—"my toilette" that includes putting in my contact lenses, the poop, flossing and brushing teeth, applying D+T ointment, and trading the gym clothes for the riding kit. Downstairs, I assemble any stray items and cash into my backpack, decide what layers I need to wear and which to pack with, roll the bike out to the stoop, and close the door. Whew! finally ready, at 07:34 today, about 15 minutes later than what I think is optimal and about 10 minutes earlier than what I think is a point of baling out on the ride.
The clock times given are about 20 minutes off, as given on my bike computer.
07:55—departing from home. At my corner, a school bus was stopped to pick up students. I entered the intersection and turned to continue on Princeton, but stopped for the school bus. The driver waved me on, and pulled in his stop sign, which he realized was my reason for stopping. What a nice gesture.
From the Monument Avenue bridge, the Miami River level was a bit lower than yesterday. The forms of the flanks of the low dam were discernable underneath the flowing water. This has become a usual path during the flooding: the gravel path under the YMCA, sidewalk to the Main Street-Monument intersection, through Riverscape Park. The railing down to the river was flooded only to 2 feet above the bikeway.
08:08—passing the zig-zag up from the Mad River Bikeway. This is a notable minute less than yesterday—but an approximate time, since I noticed the computer only after about a quarter mile past the checkpoint. The Mad River bikeway was flooded again, but only to a point where the bikeway was just visible under the muddy water. Of course, still nothing to bike through. The Monument Avenue route had moments of disgusting truck exhaust, where diesel engines were idling at the Rumpke plant and other places. About a quarter mile after Findlay Avenue, after I signaled to turn onto the grass that leads to the above-river bikeway, a chugging hatchback driver ignored or misunderstood my signal and passed me. No big deal, since I noticed he had been on the left side of the road most of the long block, to avoid the big divots that Winter had taken out of the road.
08:22—passing the west gate to Eastwood Park. A minute more than yesterday. Run-off from the hills above the transition at Smithville and Springfield was completely fluid across the bikeway. No cross traffic at Airway, and extremely light traffic at Burkhardt.
08:35—passing the trestle remains at Linden. A minute faster than yesterday. No traffic at Linden. Beyond the graffiti wall, I saw one of the regulars that I've come to know over several years of bike commuting. We've never stopped to talk, but I call him Double-Dog-Jason. This dark-haired man in his late 30s always has two dogs towing him along, and he always has a pair of flightline headphones that usually don't prevent him from saying hello. I've seen him walking south on Woodman, in part of the same circuit, and he is relatively exact in the timing of his walk. His return to a routine reminded me of others who should be again on this part of the bikeway soon: Millie and ...Ethel, Eunice? (two women in their 70s or 80s whose husbands have various health issues; at the moment the one who is more easily brought to visualization is withholding her name in my memory banks), Becky (an owner and walker of a pack of rescue dogs, including an old Lab and a St. Bernard), Gary and Amy (a father and daughter who make a daily tandem out-and-back to the Riverscape from this area). My thoughts have stayed with me to my crossing at Woodman, which had no traffic, and brought me to remember other unnamed regulars who I have frequently seen in the quarter mile from Woodman to Founders. The section seems easier, quicker, almost downhill, and I think that the ease comes from having had 40 minutes of warm-up riding. Something that I never learned to use while I was competing in my early 40s.
08:48—arriving at work. Two minutes earlier than yesterday, and a minute less through the overall route. I've taken the ride up a bit in intensity, and still feel good, not drained.
Clothing: Top with 3 layers (longsleeve poly-Spandex Reebok shirt, longsleeve skinsuit, closely-woven wool-acrylic cycling jacket); Bottom with 2 layers (skinsuit, Lycra tights); ankle socks; quilted gloves. (Cool, but comfortable body.)
Time: 0:53:xx for 12.5 miles
I opened this posting at 07:10 or 07:15, knowing I need to speed up my preparations to get out the door and on the bike. I had awakened this morning still tired, from a weird dream where my family doctor Barry was encouraging me to compete in the Gay Games coming up, in raquetball or swimming, and Chuck to compete in cycling. Still groggy, I struggled to slip off the wrist supports that I sleep with and shushed Howard from his snuffing and sneezing at my bare legs. Then up to tap off the alarm and pee, followed by my daily weigh-in. "Damn! 169 pounds, it says." So I pick up the 10-pound dumbbell beside the scale, step on again, let it register, step off and set down the weight, and step on again to see that the reading is now 168.0. I take that as the most accuracy I can get—"gotta get a more reliable scale," I think, write it on the weight record, and pull on some gym shorts and a tee. After I let Howard out of the bedroom and turn on the poster light over the stairs, I accompany him downstairs and to the kitchen. It's 05:39, time enough for the routine of turn on WYSO for Morning Edition, make a double latte, let Howard out, cut a slice of bread for toast, let Howard in, let Howard get the Wall Street Journal, sit and read the paper and take my daily pills and feed Howard in four portions of kibble, make another double latte, take Howard out to poop, bring him in and treat his ears with a fungus cleanser-preventer, treat him to a chondroitin, sit at the computer to check my email and record the morning temperature in the draft my blog. And today's routine has an added trip upstairs to place a bill on the printer-scanner, back downstairs to scan it to a file, enter the bill information in my spreadsheet, send the bill's due date and amount and scan to Chuck, and check for any recent payments that Chuck has made. That's why I sat writing at ten minutes after 7, "I've gotta hurry up if I wanna ride today. I still need to poop and dress for the ride. I've been tired this morning, not enough to keep from riding today, since it's supposed to rain tonight and tomorrow." So I pushed out of the chair, headed upstairs for—as they said in the 18th Century—"my toilette" that includes putting in my contact lenses, the poop, flossing and brushing teeth, applying D+T ointment, and trading the gym clothes for the riding kit. Downstairs, I assemble any stray items and cash into my backpack, decide what layers I need to wear and which to pack with, roll the bike out to the stoop, and close the door. Whew! finally ready, at 07:34 today, about 15 minutes later than what I think is optimal and about 10 minutes earlier than what I think is a point of baling out on the ride.
The clock times given are about 20 minutes off, as given on my bike computer.
07:55—departing from home. At my corner, a school bus was stopped to pick up students. I entered the intersection and turned to continue on Princeton, but stopped for the school bus. The driver waved me on, and pulled in his stop sign, which he realized was my reason for stopping. What a nice gesture.
From the Monument Avenue bridge, the Miami River level was a bit lower than yesterday. The forms of the flanks of the low dam were discernable underneath the flowing water. This has become a usual path during the flooding: the gravel path under the YMCA, sidewalk to the Main Street-Monument intersection, through Riverscape Park. The railing down to the river was flooded only to 2 feet above the bikeway.
08:08—passing the zig-zag up from the Mad River Bikeway. This is a notable minute less than yesterday—but an approximate time, since I noticed the computer only after about a quarter mile past the checkpoint. The Mad River bikeway was flooded again, but only to a point where the bikeway was just visible under the muddy water. Of course, still nothing to bike through. The Monument Avenue route had moments of disgusting truck exhaust, where diesel engines were idling at the Rumpke plant and other places. About a quarter mile after Findlay Avenue, after I signaled to turn onto the grass that leads to the above-river bikeway, a chugging hatchback driver ignored or misunderstood my signal and passed me. No big deal, since I noticed he had been on the left side of the road most of the long block, to avoid the big divots that Winter had taken out of the road.
08:22—passing the west gate to Eastwood Park. A minute more than yesterday. Run-off from the hills above the transition at Smithville and Springfield was completely fluid across the bikeway. No cross traffic at Airway, and extremely light traffic at Burkhardt.
08:35—passing the trestle remains at Linden. A minute faster than yesterday. No traffic at Linden. Beyond the graffiti wall, I saw one of the regulars that I've come to know over several years of bike commuting. We've never stopped to talk, but I call him Double-Dog-Jason. This dark-haired man in his late 30s always has two dogs towing him along, and he always has a pair of flightline headphones that usually don't prevent him from saying hello. I've seen him walking south on Woodman, in part of the same circuit, and he is relatively exact in the timing of his walk. His return to a routine reminded me of others who should be again on this part of the bikeway soon: Millie and ...Ethel, Eunice? (two women in their 70s or 80s whose husbands have various health issues; at the moment the one who is more easily brought to visualization is withholding her name in my memory banks), Becky (an owner and walker of a pack of rescue dogs, including an old Lab and a St. Bernard), Gary and Amy (a father and daughter who make a daily tandem out-and-back to the Riverscape from this area). My thoughts have stayed with me to my crossing at Woodman, which had no traffic, and brought me to remember other unnamed regulars who I have frequently seen in the quarter mile from Woodman to Founders. The section seems easier, quicker, almost downhill, and I think that the ease comes from having had 40 minutes of warm-up riding. Something that I never learned to use while I was competing in my early 40s.
08:48—arriving at work. Two minutes earlier than yesterday, and a minute less through the overall route. I've taken the ride up a bit in intensity, and still feel good, not drained.
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