March 2021 – The Spoke And Word™

March 28, 2021 Jhciacb

My Time Machine And The Sloppy Mosaic In My Head…

This is my 116th post since I began this page in December 2018. Twenty-eight months in, I still ride a bike every day, spend most of my seat time thinking about everything from my childhood to the day after tomorrow, and each evening, I still sit down and write about those thoughts.

Riding a bike is like being on a time machine. Each day I get to revisit different periods from my life and relive conversations and experiences from as far back as I can remember. Along the way, I reconnect with a variety of accomplices and have another view to landscapes and backdrops from my past.

The time machine goes forward too, just not as often. I imagine what my life might be like the day after tomorrow, the week after next, or in 2062 — should I make it into triple-digits. I contemplate things that might consume me well into my future. It’s chasing memories though, where my time machine does its best work.

The pattern in which those memories show up is completely random. The whole process sets up like a mosaic of memories, sloppily crafted by the drunkards in my head. I get to steer the bike, but memories drive the time machine, and they each steer a course of their own.

And it’s not just memories and thoughts of the future that consume me when I ride. Thoughts of the moment weave their way in-between all the other thoughts as they flicker in flash. All the usual suspects show up — politics, social issues, religion, existential doom, business concerns, financial matters, family issues, etc.

As chaotic as that might seem, all that thinking is therapeutic. It’s a big part of why I ride each day. When I sit down each evening though, to write about my thoughts from the ride, it becomes noisy — sometimes painfully so. Perhaps this is because I’m trying to recall so many things at once, or because I’m trying to create structure from thoughts that have no real order. I dunno, but it hurts when I write.

I’ll never get sick of riding, I find value in all the thinking, but I’m beginning to get a little sick of my own voice each night as I attempt to sort things out and form them into something to be shared. I confess, it often wears me down.

I’m not tapping out and have no intention of shutting this page down. This just something I’ve been thinking about lately, on and off the bike — and this seems like the best place to share that.

Anyway, this is what I think about when I ride… Jhciacb

This week by the numbers…

Bikes Ridden: 7

Miles: 195

Climbing: 8,100’

Mph Avg: 15.0

Calories: 11,044

Seat Time: 12 hours 57 minutes

Whether you ride a bike or not, thank you for taking the time to ride along with me today. If you haven’t already, please scroll up and subscribe. If you like what you read, give it a like and a share. If not, just keep scrollin’. Oh, and there’s this from The Waterboys . Enjoy…!

March 21, 2021 Jhciacb

Lunch Lady Man…

Some thoughts enter my head and exit without leaving a mark. A thought may come and go so quickly, I only know it was there, but never really know what it was.

Others thoughts grasp my attention for a moment, but exit before I can make sense of them. I might recognize them as something of interest, but it’s a straight shot in one ear and out the other. Gone before I can even make out their form.

Then, there are those thoughts which stick around for a while, sometimes for days, weeks, or longer. Those are the thoughts that show up most when I’m riding. They may appear and disappear as I ride, depending on the volume of other thoughts on a given day, but they identify themselves clearly and I dwell on them. More that that in a minute…

At least part of my riding time is about planning the most immediate things I need to take care of once I get off my bike. Chief among those needs, is making sure my mom gets a prompt and healthy dinner. Well, prompt anyway.

Mom doesn’t have a big appetite these days. Because of that, I don’t really cook. I prepare simple meals for her or heat up already prepared foods I buy at the market. Most evenings, regardless of what I serve, she eats roughly 30% of what I feed her. Her tastebuds are fading. Salt and pepper are often more important than what’s beneath them.

Among the most common meals I feed her are, not necessarily in order…

– Grilled cheese sandwich

– Hotdog

– Pizza

– Chicken noodle soup

– Cheese on toast

– Tomato soup

– Quesadilla

– Peanut butter on crackers

Okay, so those wouldn’t be headliners on the menu of your local organic restaurant. Hell, any one of them could be the ‘early bird’ special at Coco’s. I make sure though, each of those entrées is accompanied by a side-dish of mixed vegetables, canned or fresh fruit, and a single square of Hershey’s chocolate for dessert.

Speaking to Trudy the other night, I mentioned that mom‘s dinner that evening would be a grilled cheese sandwich — with peas in butter on the side. The night before, I explained, was chicken noodle soup with mashed potatoes. She paused for a second and said…

“My God, Roy, you feed her lunch lady food…“

We laughed. I guess deep down I’ve known that for a while, but hearing Trudy frame it that way, well, that’s one of those thoughts that’s going to stick with me for a while — Roy “Lunch Lady” Cohen.

I had no defense for her comment because it’s was true as it was funny. The only things missing from my kitchen life are the hairnet, plastic gloves, flabby arms, and the wart on my left cheek.

I’ve spent most of my adult life teaching healthy exercise and proper eating habits to people of all ages. I ask every client, prior to each session, what their last meal was and what they had for dinner the night before. Not as a form of judgment, but it promotes dialogue about healthy eating in support of their exercise. My own mother though…? She gets lunch lady food.

By the way, Wednesdays are mac & cheese days here at the Contemplative Fitness kitchen for seniors — mixed vegetables on the side, and the canned peaches are to die for.p

This is what I think about when I ride… Jhciacb

This week by the numbers…

Bikes Ridden: 6

Miles: 166

Climbing: 6,800’

Mph Avg: 15.0

Calories: 9,400

Seat Time: 11 hours 05 minutes

March 14, 2021March 14, 2021 Jhciacb

About The View…

It was a spectacular week of riding in San Diego’s North County. Back-to-back pacific storms passed through last week in typical spring fashion. The broken skies that came with these storms highlighted the beauty of the area in ways a solo blue sky just can’t. I rode six out of seven days last week, with rain making just one day too prohibitive to ride.

I was reminded last week of a travel tenet that’s proven true my entire life. As I age, and as I look for more meaning from simpler things, I’m coming to appreciate that this rule of travel is just as relevant even when I’m not far from home…

The best and most enduring moments, when I reflect back on any of my travels, have been just taking in the view.

As I rolled past acres of freshly turned soil waiting for tomatoes to be planted, as I saw snow covered mountains with citrus orchards and avocado groves in the foreground, and as I saw skies of blue highlighted by clouds of black, gray, and white, I thought about my late client and friend, Otis.

Otis was as well traveled a man as I’ve known. He had lived in South America early in his life, set foot on every continent except Antarctica, and could discuss the history, politics, and geography of any region in the world, with locals and travelers alike. Sometime around 2012, Otis took a 3-week cruise through some of Pacific islands. When he returned, I asked him what he enjoyed most about his trip. His response took me by surprise…

“The fact that I never left the ship…”

Wait, what…? A three-week Polynesian cruise and he never left the boat…?

Otis explained that he spent his sea days reading, occasionally looking up at horizon and taking in the magnificence of the ocean. When his ship was in port, rather go ashore and do touristy excursions — that were generally crowded and exhausting, he stayed behind to sit on the veranda of his cabin, still reading and intermittently looking up at the magnificence of the surrounding landscape — and all the people scurrying on the streets below.

“Each port of call was like a different television channel…“ he told me, “or like a painting of a different landscape…“

Hearing Otis describe his enjoyment of just sitting, taking in the view, and being entertained by the activities below, got me thinking about my own travels.

Just a few weeks after that conversation with Otis, I found myself on a ferry from Athens to the island of Mykonos — a 5 hour journey, stopping at a half-dozen lesser islands along the way. That remains one of the best days of my life, though I never left the boat. I just sat on the deck of the ferry, all day long, with my feet dangling over the side, taking in the view. The beauty of the Aegean sea and the aesthetics of the many islands we passed along the way were all the entertainment I would need. I was in Greece for three weeks, visited many of the more popular archaeological sites, and a handful of the lesser ones, yet what I remember most are the views from the ferry that day.

I’m not a globetrotter, but I’ve had the privilege of visiting all 50 states, some very pretty places, and a few foreign lands. When I think about any of my travels though, the moments which stand out to me most aren’t the things I’ve done — the buildings I’ve visited (ancient or modern), the foods I’ve eaten, or the even people I’ve met along the way.

When I think back on any of my travels, my fondest and most enduring memories are the many views I’ve been blessed to enjoy. Views of lakes, hills, rivers, deserts, coast lines, and so-on, remain as memory shots, etched in my mind forever. Pick a vehicle — train, jet, ship, car, or bus, and I’ll be perfectly content just staring out the window. There may be something waiting for me at the destination, but I’ll remember the view the most.

Of course travel is all about experiencing different cultures, languages, foods and entertainment, and I’ve certainly done all of that. However, the view from the hotel room, from the restaurant patio, or from the ridge overlooking the canyon or the horizon, is what has captivated me most, often stopping me in my tracks and sending chills down my spine.

And from this rolling perch I get to ride each day, I get exercise, mental clarity, and even burn some calories. The best part though — the best part of riding a bike is the view. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. And my own front porch…? That view ain’t too bad either.

This is what I think about when I ride… Jhciacb

This week by the numbers…

Bikes Ridden: 6

Miles: 161

Climbing: 7’300’

Mph Avg: 15.0

Calories: 9,200

Seat Time: 10 hours 45 minutes

March 7, 2021March 7, 2021 Jhciacb

The Needle And The Damage Done…

As a precautionary measure, after receiving my second dose of the Moderna vaccine on Friday, I chose not to ride that evening. The instances of people experiencing flu-like symptoms within hours of their second shot has been high enough that didn’t want to take a chance.

Spending two-hours with an accelerated heart-rate might have brought on any would-be side effects even sooner. Notwithstanding, I wanted to be available for my mom, who received her second dose when I did, should she experience any side effects.

Other than being a little tired at the end of the day and not sleeping well, I woke up Saturday with no fever, no chills, and no headache. Because I’d made it through the night and 15-hours had passed without any symptoms or side effects, I decided to ride early yesterday. I had already missed two days last week, and I haven’t missed three days of riding in one week since 2018.

It was chilly when I left the driveway — 45° or so. I dressed in layers because I expected it to be in mid-60s by the time I returned. Grateful that I dodged the bullet on vaccine side effects, I chose a fast route that began with a six mile downhill stretch from Fallbrook into Bonsall.

Despite wearing three longsleeve shirts, one of them thermal, about three miles in I felt unusually chilly. After another few miles, I adjusted my helmet because it felt too tight — putting excess pressure on the front of my head. Shortly after that, I began sweating. That’s when I realized the chills, headache, and sweat were side effects from the vaccine. I considered turning around, but none of it seemed too severe.

After riding 8-miles on Highway 76, I was past the point of no return for my chosen route. That’s when I began shaking. I sipped some water in hopes that hydration would minimize the symptoms. It did not.

At the turnaround point I got off my bike to take a picture, eat a banana, and drink more water. My knees were weak and I felt bodyaches from head to toe. I got back on my bike and just charged home. The headache got so bad on my return, that I took my helmet off and strapped to my shoulder bag. Through ignorant determination, I completed the 6-mile climb back into Fallbrook, but my breathing was shallow and my stamina was noticeably lessened by the other side effects.

Once home and while I still had some strength, I made my mother a lunch of peanut butter on saltine crackers, a couple of Girl Scout cookies, and a Coke. I spent the remainder of the day on the sofa, underneath 2 blankets, sleeping on and off, and mumbling incoherently as though it were my last day on earth — which I believed it was. I hadn’t felt flu-like symptoms this severe since having the H1N1 virus in 2010.

Just after 8pm last evening, the fever broke and the chills stopped. With nothing planned to write for the week, I thought I’d share this story with you — about a man so committed to riding a bike each day, that he was willing to risk his health to do it. And in a little while, I’m going to do it again. Wish me luck.

This is what I think about when I ride… Jhciacb