Bike Trail Fever

Last Sunday, while the White Tiger was out golfing (weird), I went for a bike ride. It being Sunday, I had a handful of chores and errands I wanted to accomplish, so I didn't plan to be out too long, but then, I got consumed with road, or trail, fever.

There's a sign at the spur trail where I hop on the Neil Smith to go north to Saylorville or south to downtown. I'd been to every destination listed on the sign, except one, Big Creek State Park, 21.25 miles away. It seemed so distant, so remote, so unattainable, like riding to the moon. I yearned for the day when I would get there.

Sunday, I got there. I wasn't planning on riding that far. First, I planned to ride for three hours, but when ninety minutes showed up on the computer, I wasn't ready to turn back. Then, I was going to ride twenty miles out, but by the time I got to twenty, I was so close to Big Creek, I figured I might as well go all the way.

Trail's end at Big Creek State Park is exactly 25 miles from my house. As I got closer and closer, I imagined the beach at Big Creek would be bustling with activity, like Coney Island. I was dreaming the corn dog or ice cream I would have as a mid-ride snack. Alas, the whole park was virtually empty. A couple teenagers were cleaning a boat at the marina and talking about ultimate fighting, but that was it. I ate my granola bar and turned around.

When I got back to the spur trail, I checked my phone and found that the White Tiger was at a baseball game. Despite the fact that I was wearing bike shorts and did not bring my "inside" glasses, I decided to join him, so, instead of going home, I rode downtown.

All in all, I rode 52 miles. I'm not going to lie, I bit off more than I could chew. I was brain-dead for the rest of the day, which was not helped by the copious amount of beer I drank at the game and the High Life. I also absolutely required some Snookies ice cream. I sunburned my lips and a hilariously straight line of leg above my knee, but I had some fun. There's something meditative and magical about riding a bike. The time seems to fly by with the scenery. I am feeling more confident about my RAGBRAI training.

This month, I've also been doing some writing about bicycling and attending various Bike-Month events. I've been watching fixie-porn, which have completely brainwashed me into thinking I need a fixie. (I know, I know, I don't.) And, I've read a few pieces by the Bike Snob, which are absolutely charming and fun to read. I am a little scared for my bank account. I am a gear-geek and cycling seems like a dangerously expensive and all-consuming habit, but I've got that wonderful smiley, sunshiney feeling being about to delve into a world I am going to really enjoy.

Days Until RAGBRAI: 71
Miles in my Ride: 52, four hours, 13.2 average
Total Training Miles: 125
Miles to Go: 875
Calories Burned: 3345

A Tale of Two Pizzas

Balancing weight loss and good-times continues to challenge me. Last night, the White Tiger and I met some Metlife friends at Kathy's on Hickman. One drink turned into several, and after eating light all day, and missing dinner, both of us were starving when we left the bar at 10:30pm. Neither one of us wanted to cook, so we stopped at Dahl's and got a frozen pizza.















Boy, how the calories add up. I don't even want to tell you about the liquid-calories; let's focus on this pizza. So delicious, so bad for you. One sixth of this pizza has 360 calories, 15 grams of fat--yikes. And, completely lacking any will-power and forgetting completely about my goals, I ate 810 calories worth of this pizza.

But, it didn't have to be that way. On Tuesday, I thawed a loaf of 100% whole wheat bread dough thinking we would make our own pizza. Instead of eating at home, we went downtown and had some drinks and tapas with some friends. We didn't make this pizza last night either, obviously, so this morning, thinking that the bread dough wouldn't last much longer in the fridge (yeast some some wacky stuff), I whipped up what I am calling a homemade ghetto-pantry pizza.















The White Tiger and I love pizza, and we especially love Hawaiian pizza--salty ham, sweet pineapple, savory onions--oh, so good. We had everything we needed.

100% whole wheat bread dough 1170 calories
1 small can tomato sauce 70 calories, plus some spices.
3 gloves of garlic, minced 13 calories
6 slices of deli-ham 50 calories
1/4 cup parmesan cheese 110 calories
1 cup low fat mozzeralla 180 calories
1/2 cup onion 24 calories
1/2 cup pineapple chunks

The whole pizza has 1697 calories, compare that to the 2160 in the frozen-pizza. If we cut it up into 10 reasonable size slices that's only 170 calories a slice. Heck, two slices is only 340 calories, still less than one slice of Digiorno's.

In hindsight, I would have done things differently: two drink maximum, plus lots more water. I am sure my brain and body would love me a lot more at this point. We should have made pizza at home; it would have taken just as much time as stopping at the store, pre-heating the oven, and cooking the frozen calorie-bomb.

What have we learned? Booze makes me lazy and facilitates bad decisions. It's easy to forget my larger goals when I am taking a gin-bath. Cooking at home is not that hard or time consuming and the rewards are great. I'm not going to beat myself up, but I am going to let those dueling pizzas be a reminder that I have amazing alternative to eating crap that won't derail my goals.