Jhciacb

Uncritical Mass…

Anyone who began recreational or competitive bodybuilding in their youth and continued it well into their adult life will tell you, you don’t really learn how to train until you’re in your 40s. And for those who continue it into their 50s, with an emphasis on right-diet and consistent training, the results are often as good as men and women much younger.

To be clear, I’m talking about bodybuilding without pharmaceutical enhancement. No drugs. 

In 2013 I was 52, and coaching a female bodybuilder, among my other clients. Having let myself get out of shape, or what I call emphasizing loosely packed muscle, she remarked to me one morning about my “soft physique” and asked if I had “given up” on it. I assured her that with eight straight weeks of training and proper eating, I could get in the best bodybuilding shape of my life. When she snickered, I asked if she would put her money where her laugh was. A bet was made for $500 and I got to work.

In the coming weeks she saw my progress, and it became clear to her, possibly for the first time, I really knew what I was doing when it came to coaching bodybuilding and fitness. By the end of the eighth week, I was walking everywhere in town with my shirt off. When the day came for her to pay off the bet, her pocketbook was nowhere to be found. Cool. I proved my point. 

I maintained that shape for the next couple of years, until early 2015 when I returned from Colorado to California. That’s when I began to emphasize my cycling, loosened my diet, and the weight room became secondary. I still lifted weights 3 to 4 days per week, but not with the intensity I’d been maintaining since my early teens.

A couple months back I was reflecting on that bet I made in 2013, and the shape I got in as a result of it. With little fanfare, and no mention of it to anyone, I began an earnest attempt to get in, not just good shape, but possibly the best bodybuilding shape of my life. I retooled my diet, stepped up my strength training sessions, and began a course of supplementation I haven’t adhered to since I was in my 30s.

The only difference in my day-to-day training between 2013 and now is at that in 2013 my only cardiovascular activity was running 2 to 3 miles 5 days per week. Also, today I eat almost exclusively plant-based protein.  

After eight weeks of training — of grinding it out in the gym day after day, of increased supplementation, and a significantly retooled diet, I’m proud to say I have made no progress — none. To look at me, you might not even think I lift weights at all. I have muscle tone, but it’s the kind you might get by living in a Salvadoran prison for 18-years.

So what’s gone wrong…?

First, I’m on a bike for nearly 2-hours every day. It’s just something I’m not willing to sacrifice. The calorie expenditure and the lack of recovery that cycling creates, is completely inconsistent with adding muscle mass. In fact, my weekly photographs to disclose progress suggest my muscle mass might have slightly declined in the last eight weeks.

In 2013, I was sleeping a combined 6 to 7 hours every night. Not great, but adequate for exercise recovery. Today, primarily due to my caregiving responsibilities and my relentless addiction to 4am writing, I get 4 to 5 hours of broken sleep — on a good night. 

Also, I’m entering my 60s. Though it varies from person to person, male strength athletes tend to have a noticeable decline in muscle mass and muscular quality over the age of 60. This is largely due to a decline in the production of testosterone. This doesn’t mean that it’s not possible to maintain some degree of muscle mass and strength, but it’s unrealistic to expect the same results today that I was getting 10-years ago and 10-years before that.

Lastly, I began early — I’ve been in the weight room regularly since I was 12-years old. After 48-years of regular strength training, there’s no place for the body to really go.

So where do I go from here…?

I still enjoy being in the weight room — it’s my sanctuary. I value the physical autonomy that being strong provides me. I also know that strength training, done properly, promotes flexibility, balance, and slows down the inevitable loss of bone density — even if I do look like a Salvadoran prisoner.

I’m just slightly bummed that the guns of old and the quads that once popped with every step are beginning to fizzle. I’ve known though, for a long time, that I would get to this day. For now, I’m going to give it another couple of months and see what happens. After that, I may take my own advice and just strength train a couple days a week. The cycling though, is here to stay.  

This is what I think about when I ride… Jhciacb 

This week by the numbers…

Bikes Ridden: 6

Miles: 193

Climbing: 7,800’

Mph Avg: 15.1

Calories: 11,000

Seat Time: 12 hours 41 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 Sean Costello. Enjoy…

Jhciacb

Exhilarated…

Within minutes of posting this, I’ll be headed to the coast on a bicycle once again. It’s my Sunday morning ritual.

Morning rides are the best. In part, because they breathe life into me at a time of day when any exhilaration is welcome. I may get up at 4am, but I don’t come life until mid-morning. Spinning my legs and pushing my heart as early fuel for my day puts coffee to shame. 

I’ve been thinking about that word lately — exhilaration. While riding last Sunday morning, under a fading sunrise, I thought about as many synonyms for exhilaration as I could. The word that most closely resembled exhilaration, I thought, was joy. When I returned home, I used the Google to search for synonyms for exhilaration, and joy was among the first that came up. Funny though, every subsequent synonym would also be appropriate for what I feel when I ride.

I’ve been thinking about how lucky I am that I get to feel exhilaration most every day of my life. Of course that exhilaration isn’t with me all day, but it’s a great equalizer for other emotions that sneak into my day…

Sadness

Frustration

Rage

Fear

Anger

Depression

Confusion

Fright

On consideration, and if I’m being honest, there are more negative emotions which guide my mood in the course of a day than there are positive ones. The positive ones though, seem to carry more weight, and among them all, exhilaration carries the most.

And no, this isn’t a how-to about how you can build exhilaration into your own day. If you want it, you’ll find it — or create it as I do. I just can’t imagine living without a dose or two of exhilaration each day to fend off those lesser emotions which strive to bring me down.

I honestly don’t remember thinking too much about the word exhilaration before. I’m not sure it’s even crossed my mind until this week. My takeaway from this contemplation though, is this…

Without some daily exhilaration, my world would be a much darker place.

This is what I think about when I ride… Jhciacb

This week by the numbers…

Bikes Ridden: 6

Miles: 199

Climbing: 7,800’

Mph Avg: 15.0

Calories: 11,200

Seat Time: 13 hours 10 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 Leonid And Friends (Steely Dan cover). Enjoy…

Jhciacb

Independence Day…

Since beginning this daily cycling endeavor in 2016, a handful of recurring memories cross my mind when I ride. They might involve people, places, or situations I’ve found myself in. Some of those memories are negative, some positive, but if they are there at all, it means they’re indelible. There’s one memory though, that has visited me more than any other. It never stays long, but it shows up nearly every day.  

In 1967 I lived in Morris Plains New Jersey. My father, a marketing executive in the banking industry, was one of the original members of United Airlines 100,000 Mile Club. Dad often left town on Monday or Tuesday and would return on Thursday or Friday. It was just the way of life for the man in the gray flannel suit. 

Every so-often I’d need my dad for some kind of dad-chore during the week. If he was out of town though, I’d as my mom. If she couldn’t fulfill the request, she’d come straight at me with…

“You’ll just have to wait till your father gets back…”

That was always enough to dissuade me from badgering her further. If dad wasn’t around to do it, and if mom couldn’t do it, I usually found a way to get it done anyway. 

I was 5-years old and went to half-day kindergarten in the mornings. After school I usually hung out with my two friends, Ben and Gail — classmates from kindergarten and each lived a few houses away on my street. We would play on the swing-set in Gail‘s backyard, watch the black-and-white Zenith television in my rec room, and ride our small bikes on the street between our driveways. Among the many things Gail, Ben, and I had in common, were training wheels on our little bikes. 

One day, after Gail and Ben left my driveway back to their respective houses, I decided I didn’t want training wheels any longer. I went inside and asked my mom if she could take them off. That’s when I got the…

“You’ll just have to wait till your father gets back…”

My father was out of town and wouldn’t return until the weekend. I don’t remember exactly how long it took, but after my mom declined to remove my training wheels, I found myself in the garage — with my bike tilted up on one side.

I found a small brick in back of the garage. I held the brick with both hands and began striking the exposed training wheel to bend upward — until it would no longer be capable of touching the ground. It only took a few strikes. I then flipped the bike over and did the same thing with the opposite training wheel. Moments later I was on the street attempting to ride my bike with no training wheels — for the very first time.  

It didn’t go so well. 

I more or less walk/rode my bike several houses up to Gail’s house, where she and her dad were standing in their driveway. I showed them what I had done to my training wheels. Gail‘s dad stepped away briefly and returned with some wrenches. Within a few minutes, my training wheels were properly removed. A couple minutes later and Gail’s dad was holding my shoulders and helping me balance while I rode without training wheels for the first time. It didn’t take long before Gail‘s dad let go and I was rolling, however awkwardly, on my own. I never looked back. 

A few days later, when my father returned, I explained that Gail‘s dad had removed the training wheels. I expected him to be upset, but if he was, he showed no sign of it. After I told him, he took me outside and wanted to see me ride. I made a few passes up and down the street in front of the house. I clearly remember him clapping as he told me how proud he was of me. That is precisely where my memory of riding that bike stops. 

It was a small red and white bike, possibly a Schwinn. I have no memory of riding it after that day — none, though I’m certain I rode it most every day. A couple takeaways from that experience are these…

1- Along with my first visit to a weight room, that was probably the most significant day of my life.

2- I remember riding my bike that day, but I have no memory of riding any day after. It’s amazing, the things we remember — and the things we forget.

This is what I think about when I ride… Jhciacb

This week by the numbers…

Bikes Ridden: 7

Miles: 209

Climbing: 7,900’

Mph Avg: 14.9

Calories: 11,800

Seat Time: 14 hours 04 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 Joan Armatrading. Enjoy…

Jhciacb

Life Inside The Coin…

Last week I had one of those rides that made me feel good about humanity. Everywhere I looked, I saw social progress — man working toward the betterment of man. Don’t get me wrong, that almost never ends well, but the continuation of the process is what gives me hope. We keep trying. 

I love riding past the tomato fields of Oceanside. I find their aesthetic stunning. And beyond how they look, that millions of people get fed from tomato fields all over the world is also beautiful. And beyond that — beyond those large fields of tomatoes that feed millions of people and look so good doing it, they don’t just bring nutrition, they bring happiness. There’s happiness in pizza, and you can’t have pizza without tomatoes. 

And that highway I rode — alongside those tomato fields…? What an absolute miracle. Roads are the arteries that allow thousands of people, every day, to see other people, to get to work, to get to the beach, and to get away from home, if only for a while. And virtually everything I look at in my house, as I write this at 4am, spent time on a highway, just like the one I rode my bike on yesterday. Like tomato fields, roads and highways are miracles.

Not far off that highway is a sea of red ceramic roofs. These are little boxes where children grow up, come home to after school, have parties, kick balls in the backyard, and eat pot roast made by their mothers. Houses are aware sibling rivalries are formed, evening movies are enjoyed, and where the family pet is laid to rest under the rose bush in the backyard. Houses too, are miracles.

And above and below all of those houses with red ceramic roofs, there are lines of electricity, of water, and cables of communications that make all of this work. Those are the nervous system of social structure — a network of miracles. 

Of course it’s easy to be critical of monoculture tomato fields, of highways and the vehicles that fill them, of the houses we escape to each evening, and of power lines, sewer lines, and fiber optic cables. It’s been studied and documented for decades, that all of our advancements are lining up to destroy us. 

On some level though, to me anyway, they are still advancements and they are still miracles. Appreciating them — that takes work. On some level, I trust that millions of people, every day, are working hard to make all of those things better, cleaner, and more efficient, for all of us. Some of those people will certainly fail. Some though, will actually succeed — they’ll make the world a better place by contributing to the next lineage of miracles.

There are two sides to every coin, including the coin of humanity. On one side of the coin we have the slow biological evolution of the primate that is us. On the other side of that coin, we have the fast, increasingly complex evolution of social structure and all the trappings that go with it. And we — we who are living in this time and at this moment, are living our lives between two sides of the same coin.

This is what I think about when I ride… Jhciacb

This week by the numbers…

Bikes Ridden: 6

Miles: 184

Climbing: 8,800’

Mph Avg: 15.2

Calories: 10,500

Seat Time: 12 hours 08 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 Christopher Coleman. Enjoy…