As I push the mileage, my pre-ride prep is changing. I have to pack more "fuel" (power gels, bananas, etc). I have to think about things like getting a flat 20 miles out in the country. I have to check out the sunset time and plan for that - including the extra time spent on a potential flat. I watch wind speed and direction, think about traffic patterns at different times of day, consider what dogs might be let out as the owners get home from work, try to come up with something new to think about for two hours.
I also have to wear a medical alert bracelet, carry the medical emergency card that goes with it, and make sure I have identification and insurance cards - just in case.
My ride yesterday had me focused on the medical alert bracelet. One of the benefits of my cancer treatment is that I now carry a strange "allergy". The Bleomycin that I was treated with left me with the potential to die from... oxygen. There are some case studies in which people given high levels of oxygen, as in surgery or scuba diving, ended up with severe damage to the lungs that resulted in death. Oxygen. The stuff we need to live. It could kill me. So I wear this annoying bracelet just in case I wipe out, and am taken, unconscious, to a hospital, and along the way, they decide to strap on an oxygen mask and crank it up.
And while I was thinking about how strange all that was, it dawned on me that the little clinking noise I was trying to track down on my bike was coming from my bracelet. And the mystery of how the dogs all seem to know I'm coming was solved. Those yippy little beasts listen for the clinking with their ratty little dog ears, call each other to meet in the bushes, setting up the ambush. Well, Rat Pack, I'm on to you! I will silence my bracelet and you can wake up from your slothy sleep to the sound of my bike whooshing past your am-bush. See ya!
Friday, March 23, 2007
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Crazy days
I made my first biking video yesterday! Make sure you have the speakers cranked! I have a hard time watching it - it makes me want to get out and RIDE! Dawn had a hard time watching it - she said it brought her back to "that day".
I read an article today that talks about the increased risk that Hodgkin's survivors have for secondary cancers later down the road. Now there's something to look forward to. If cancer comes looking for me, I'll be out for a bike ride.
Check out Cliff's blog. Cliff is a real hero. Another Hodge-kicker, he just passed day +150 from a bone marrow transplant and is out grabbing life by the horns. While you're at it, check out his biking videos on youtube. I especially like "The Spin", "Lucky Man", and "Heart of Gold."
Well, the weather is great today. I think I'm heading out early for "a meeting". Shhhhhh!
I read an article today that talks about the increased risk that Hodgkin's survivors have for secondary cancers later down the road. Now there's something to look forward to. If cancer comes looking for me, I'll be out for a bike ride.
Check out Cliff's blog. Cliff is a real hero. Another Hodge-kicker, he just passed day +150 from a bone marrow transplant and is out grabbing life by the horns. While you're at it, check out his biking videos on youtube. I especially like "The Spin", "Lucky Man", and "Heart of Gold."
Well, the weather is great today. I think I'm heading out early for "a meeting". Shhhhhh!
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Headwinds...
Tons of riding lately. I'm just trying to log some serious mileage. My legs are good, but my butt doesn't like the saddle time. It'll get used to it.
I knocked off work early yesterday to get a ride in. I went for the 20 miler out-and-back on Old West Point Road. Some friends were in town and we were meeting them, so it had to be a fast one. So a 20-mile sprint it was.
This road bike thing is so different than mountain biking. There's so much time to think. Everything on the road is a reason to think. I think about the people in the houses I'm passing, the cars that are driving by, the emmisions I'm breathing, how many hamburgers can be made with the cows in the pasture, when the last time the lines on the road were painted.
But every challenge on the road is a link to cancer. "Persevere" has become my mantra for hills, sprints, headwinds, and just plain tiredness. The ride out yesterday was fast. I could feel the blood swelling my leg muscles by mile 5. I felt good. I felt mad. Mad? That's a new one. I had to think about that. And why not - I mean I'm riding, right?
Brian lost a friend this week. Skye just wants her husband to support her. Anne-Marie would settle for the strength to get through a day. I'd settle for her being cured. Damn this disease. It's a headwind - and a mean one at that. It's a headwind, on an uphill, at the end of a 20-mile sprint. It's ruthless.
And that's what I was thinking with that headwind, going up that hill, on the last mile before my house. "Persevere." "PERSEVERE!" I guess I can be a bit ruthless when I want, too. Thanks, Hodge, for a good workout. And just so you know, I'll be looking for a more worthy training partner.
I knocked off work early yesterday to get a ride in. I went for the 20 miler out-and-back on Old West Point Road. Some friends were in town and we were meeting them, so it had to be a fast one. So a 20-mile sprint it was.
This road bike thing is so different than mountain biking. There's so much time to think. Everything on the road is a reason to think. I think about the people in the houses I'm passing, the cars that are driving by, the emmisions I'm breathing, how many hamburgers can be made with the cows in the pasture, when the last time the lines on the road were painted.
But every challenge on the road is a link to cancer. "Persevere" has become my mantra for hills, sprints, headwinds, and just plain tiredness. The ride out yesterday was fast. I could feel the blood swelling my leg muscles by mile 5. I felt good. I felt mad. Mad? That's a new one. I had to think about that. And why not - I mean I'm riding, right?
Brian lost a friend this week. Skye just wants her husband to support her. Anne-Marie would settle for the strength to get through a day. I'd settle for her being cured. Damn this disease. It's a headwind - and a mean one at that. It's a headwind, on an uphill, at the end of a 20-mile sprint. It's ruthless.
And that's what I was thinking with that headwind, going up that hill, on the last mile before my house. "Persevere." "PERSEVERE!" I guess I can be a bit ruthless when I want, too. Thanks, Hodge, for a good workout. And just so you know, I'll be looking for a more worthy training partner.
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