Saturday, May 10, 2008

More Ramblings

Well, a few days have gone by and still I haven't written anything new. It's not that I haven't got anything to write about, I just haven't felt "inspired". Oh well, looks like you guys are just going to have to suffer through another one of my old ramblings.

Guys, if your wife ever complains about your wardrobe choices, just print this out and leave it in a conspicuous place; it should help to get you off the hook... for a little while anyway. You're welcome!


Been There, Done That, Got the T-Shirt!

Some things in life are very predictable and I seem to be one of them. Whenever my wife and I are getting dressed to go out she seems to feel the need to inform me to “wear a shirt without writing on it!” Now some people might feel that their fashion sense is being called into question, but I have to admit that when she makes this statement, nine out of ten times I’m just poking my head through the neck hole of a t-shirt that looks more like a billboard than apparel. I guess after twenty-two years she knows me pretty well.

However, the odds of being right are stacked heavily in her favor. I think about 90% of my upper body attire fits into this category. It started out as a handful t-shirts commemorating events and physical accomplishments in my life and just grew out of control from there. My collection now includes polo shirts, button-downs, tank tops, hats, jackets… you get the idea.

I didn’t set out with the goal of becoming a walking advertisement, it just sort of evolved that way until, eventually, it took on a life of it’s own. The spark was lit by those little logo key chains that everyone gives away and tinder was provided by hats and charity ride t-shirts. The bonfire was then brought to full glory in the form of brightly colored cycling jerseys. One might think that the next logical step is to re-paint my truck with the image of my favorite beer label (this thought has been considered and rejected).

Unlike my wife, however, I don’t see this as a bad thing. I like to be surrounded by little reminders of the important events in my life. A lot of the souvenirs that we collect just end up shoved to the back of shelf or stuffed in a box in the top of a closet, never to be seen again. I get to wear my memories every day. They are a constant reminder of the good times, the hard fought battles and the people who fought beside me.

They also serve as conversation starters at times. Some one will see one of my charity ride shirts and ask, ”Hey, where did you get that?” This opens the door for me to reply with something like, “I had to ride 160 miles to get this shirt!” Then we are off and running, swapping war stories and sharing the pride and pain that are attached to this special garment. Let’s see an off the rack Izod shirt do that!

This effect isn’t limited to the event shirts in my collection. One evening I was standing in the airport waiting for my luggage sporting a “Fat Tire Ale” shirt when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and was immediately greeted with a handshake and a big “thank you” for choosing to wear the logo proudly. It seems I had been spotted by a district manager for New Belgium Brewing and he felt the need to acknowledge, and encourage, my un-solicited advertising of his products. We had a brief but interesting conversation, shook hands again and parted ways, both a little uplifted by the chance meeting. Another positive human interaction brought to you courtesy of a ”shirt with writing on it.”

Now, I’m not saying that logo wear is the key to world peace. That would be too broad of a statement. The world has a delicate balance that must be maintained. For every good there is a bad; every positive has a negative… you know, the old Yin and Yang thing. The opposite of the apparel that I wear would be the kind that displays collage and professional sports logos. I have seen more than one fight started by the flashing of the wrong crest in the wrong bar or arena. Just try wearing a U of A jersey to an ASU game and see how long you last!

So what’s the final word on this subject? I don’t think there is one. The bottom line is that I like my logo apparel. I enjoy wearing it and sharing it with others. I realize that it’s not always the best choice based on the venue we will be visiting and I am trainable. Now, when we are getting dressed to go out, I’m usually the one questioning the dress code.

“Honey, are we going to a ‘no writing shirt’ place tonight?”

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

I'm Lazy, So...

Well, I still haven't written anything new so it looks like it's back to the old. This was written about 3 years ago after a non-cyclist asked me what a recover ride was. It got my brain perking, thinking about what it meant to me as opposed to the general population. Enjoy!



Recovery Rides


If you hang around cyclists long enough you’ll hear the term ”recovery ride” used quite often. The conversation might go something like this:

“So, how’d you do today?”

“I had a nice easy ride… very relaxing”

“See anybody else out there?”

“Yeah, at one point some loser on a piece of department store junk blew by me, but I just let him go. If I wasn’t on my recovery ride, I would have hammered it and dropped him like a bad habit!”

So, what is this recovery ride they speak of? It all depends on who you talk to. Most cyclists will tell you it’s an easy spin the day after a hard ride, like a century or a race; or maybe you spent the previous day climbing mammoth hills or doing intervals. The recovery ride works out all of the byproducts of the metabolic process and gets the kinks out of things. For me it’s something different.

Now before I can give my definition, I need to tell you a little about me and why I ride. I’m forty-something and not the best physical specimen around. I’ve been riding bikes off and on for most of my life, but didn’t get very serious about it until I was closing in on my 30th year. Up to that time, riding was just another way to get from point A to point B if it wasn’t too far and I didn’t feel like driving. The bike spent most of the time on the back porch and my butt was behind the wheel of something with more horsepower. That changed thanks to good old Phoenix traffic jams and unreliable vehicles.

I was living on the west side at the time and working downtown at one of the hospitals. The traffic on the way home was always very slow. It was stop and start, taking several cycles to get through lights, and just generally frustrating. Then, just to add insult to injury, car problems set in. I hated riding the bus, so the bike became my primary mode of transportation by default.

During this stint as a bike commuter I discovered a couple of things that surprised me. First, it usually took me 40 to 45 minutes to drive home in the crush of cars that clogged the streets in the afternoon… it only took me 27 minutes on the bike! The second thing I discovered was even more surprising. By the time I cranked myself past all of the poor helpless souls trapped in their stalled, smoking boxes on wheels and rolled into the driveway at home, the stress of the day seemed to have disappeared. I was literally burning off all of the bad energy clouding my brain and infecting my body. What started out as a negative situation was having a positive effect; I was becoming a happier person.

Do you remember what it was like as a kid when you learned to ride a bike? For me, it was my first real taste of freedom. The bike was my magic carpet, taking me to places that were previously out of reach or required parental participation. In commuting by bike, I had rediscovered that freedom. I was no longer confined by my petroleum-fueled prison. I could feel the wind flowing over me and see the world unobstructed.

Emotion became my fuel of choice now. I could take all of the anger, frustration and disappointment, stress… whatever was nagging me, and concentrate the energy, focus it on the pedals and fly! I’d spin like a man possessed, burning away the blackness until all that remained was the pure joy of being one with this fantastic machine that had given me such a gift… and this brings me back to where we started.

So, what’s my definition of a recovery ride? Well, when you consider the mental and spiritual benefits I reap every time I climb in the saddle and set the wheels in motion, there can be only one answer… every ride is a recovery ride!