Save the Date: Brewery 100 5.0ish is June 21st-ish Colorado

We finally picked a date! And a state!

There had been some suggestions that we do the Brewery 100 in Iowa this year, but we are not going to. Instead, we will return to Colorado for some malty-shit-show-bike-riding fun.

For some folks (the Mayor), riding two centuries is the way they get ready for Ragby, so it's important that we get it in (twss), and a bit early this year.

If you don't know what the Brewery 100 is, you can read about it:

Brewery 100 1.0

Brewery 100 2.0

Brewery 100 3.0

Brewery 100 4.0 Spectator Report

Brewery 100 4.0 Ride Report

The idea is to do a century ride around the front range, between Longmont and Fort Collins, stopping along the way to refresh ourselves with some of the country's best craft beer.

We are great for the first 60-miles or so, staring early, enjoying the sunshine and scenery, and riding our bikes like responsible adult human beings. Then, things fall apart.

What it has become is a progressive shit show that features rain, being lost, falling off bikes, crashes, flat tires, urinating in public, and general mayhem. Though, it is a lot of fun.

However, we have promised ourselves to be good this year. No more than one pint per brewery (somewhere between 6-8 brewery stops). And, we are going to actively work on avoiding the shit show.

If this sounds like something you might enjoy, you should join us!

Did I mention it is incredibly flat? Less than 1,500 feet of climbing over the course of 100 miles.

Not interested in doing the full 100? That's okay. We can typically make arrangements to allow for shorter rides in the afternoon (less miles, more malt).

There's no entrance fee, just the cost of your beer and increased medical insurance premiums.

See you this June!

Fitness Assessment Results Part 2

Last Sunday I got the official results from my fitness assessment with Tomoko. You read about the subjective results here, I am sure. 

Isn't Tomoko nice?

I am pretty pumped that my cardiovascular and strength ratings were high. I guess all the working out is actually working?

Results

I never thought of myself as inflexible, but apparently that is a place for more focused improvement.

We didn't do weight, which I didn't even think about until after the fact. Though, I suppose this could be a good thing. It seems healthier and happier to focus on fitness and general health, rather than just weight numbers.

Fail? Wimp Out, or Strategic Reconsideration?

Oh man. This is hard to blog. So hard that I have been procrastinating writing this. And, I have been procrastinating writing this so long you have probably already figured it out, but here goes:

I am not going to Ride the Rockies.

Ugh. There. I said it.

I don't feel great about this decision, but I think it was the right one.

I am kicking myself because, yes, I could have made it work. And, it would be been an amazing challenge, and I entered that stupid contest in the first place. And, I never win anything! Part of me really, really feels like a big loser about this.

Yet, here's why I am not doing it.

I talked to Tomoko about it. I wanted to get her professional opinion. I told her my concerns, that I wasn't sure I would be ready, and I didn't want to make a complete ass of myself.

She listened, and sympathized, and then gave me this advice.

Ride the Rockies is not what I had planned on doing this summer. I planned on the Copper Triangle. If I want to do RtR, I can! But, how about next year? And, if I really want to do it next year and I don't get in, well, I can do the Tour of Colorado instead (I've never heard of that one but she said the lottery is not as competitive.)

I thought it was sound advice. Yes, it was be awesome, and if I could pull it off, it would be quite the coup. But, I would have to do it by myself. And, spending a week suffering alone in Colorado wasn't that appealing. And, it would be a whole week out of a summer that is not that long. I want to be sure I am doing the things I really want to do, rather than just sort of happened into.

I'd way rather go to Utah and suffer with Ranger Dave, which is what I think I will be doing instead.

I contacted O'Dells, and they were really nice about it. And, I am sure they will find some fit Coloradian who will appreciate the spot.

Happy Birthday to the Tiger!

Today is the birthday of the White Tiger! 

The Tiger asked me to write a series of blogs that told the tales of our trip to Belgium last summer, but I feel like the beer-drinking/cheese-eating side of that equation way outweighed the bike-riding so I wasn't sure it belonged in this space, but in honor of the Tiger's birthday, I will tell one story.

We were back in Amsterdam, just hanging around the city with our friend Keri. We just had a couple "must-do" things on our Amsterdam list, which included the Rijksmuseum, some local "culture," and the Heineken Brewery.

Like a fish to water.

The Tiger had been on the Heineken Brewery tour back in the 'oughts, when he backpacked around Europe for six weeks and said it was fabulous. 

We paid an outrageous admission fee and entered the "experience." Like most modern, mega-breweries, the tour is updated and mostly unstaffed, with lots of technology and cool exhibits. A halogram of the guy who invented the yeast speaks through a hole in the ceiling, and there are a few tasting stops along the way, but since they don't actually brew there anymore, there's not a lot to really see.

After the "become the beer" video-experience we exited the theater and found our way into a room with multi-media exhibits. We poked around, touching screens and turning dials, when over my shoulder I hear a "what's this?" 

The Tiger stepped onto a platform, hit the button, and went on a "ride" to the top of the staircase. "Cool, a beer elevator," he said excitedly. 

And it didn't even cost a Euro!

In reality, it was a wheelchair platform.

But, here's to a guy who knows how to make fun out of the most unlikely scenarios. 

Happy Birthday Tiger!

Fitness Assessment Part 1

Last Sunday, I got out of bed early and braved the snow and yes (f-ing Iowa) to do my initial fitness assessment with Tomoko. 

Soooo cold.

Tomoko lives way on the south side, past Easter Lake and Ewing Park, my old stomping grounds. It was fun to drive down there and see the new dog park and all the improvements to the south side. 

It was pretty chilly, so Tomoko gave me a coffee and I sat by her fire and we chatted about my numbers from my doctor's consultation. 

She hasn't finished computing the results, so this is the subjective results.

Cholesterol = good

Then, we got down to business. First we did the resting heart rate. She said that was good. 

Then, we did the step test, where you step up up down down on a step bench for three minutes to a metronome. It's not that hard, per say, but it is kind of a mind-f. Up up down down. Then we took my heart rate again.

Then we did the push up test. On the knees. I got 29. I probably could have done more, but I sort of wimped out.

Then we did the curl up test where you curl just slightly so your fingers go from one piece of masking tape on a yoga mat to another one. I did the required 25 in the minute, also to a metronome, and she said that was good.

We did a stretch test. One stretches forward. I got between 11.5 and 12.5. Don't know what that means. And found that my "hammies are tight," but "don't worrry, we will fix that." 

Tomoko measures my thigh length to find the right spot to pinch.

She also took some measurements that included some scary looking calipers. I had never had the caliper test before, so that was exciting.

Straight from the 50s. Coffee table straight from the 70s.

And, that was about it. We talked a bit about healthy eating, chia seeds, etc. 

Oh, whoops, Tomoko forgot to have me sign the waiver and consent form. I happily signed it afterwards. 

Then, I drove home. 

I did this test before, with Gwyn, way back in 2010, so I remembered the drill. 

I am heavier now than I was then, but it is kind of cute to see where my fitness has taken me since then, which, by the way, was before my first ragby. 

It is kind of funny that my hip issues started way back then. It only took me four years, two back throwings out, and many, many physical therapy sessions to figure out why. 

When I get the real results, I will post them post haste.

Happy Birthday to the Deb!

Today is the Deb's birthday! Happy birthday mom!

The Deb looking fresh in tie dye!

The reason why I mention it here is because my mom is kind of a bad-ass. She's really taken the fitness-bull by the horns in the last couple years, and she continues to impress and inspire me. 

Also, she also has a tendency to over do it and hurt her self in her physical fitness pursuits, which make me feel like my own foibles are at least hereditary. 

In honor of the Deb's birthday, here are some of the awesome things she has done with her body over the years. (Along with some of her awesome disasters.)

As a kid--she was a gymnast, and a pretty good one. But she was also kind of a dare devil. So, one day she decided to walk along the top beam of a swing set and she fell off and smashed her elbow, ending her gymnastics career. 

As a young adult--when I was a kid my mom always played league softball and some league volleyball with the people from work. I remember this because it was pretty much a party league. And, I remember my mom giving me the advice that if I was going to take a cooler to a softball game, I should fill it with grapefruit and vodka because the umpires wouldn't be able to tell it was booze. Also, the softball team would always celebrate at La Pizza House on the south side with pizza and beer, and I loved their cheese bread. 

Chilly afternoon glass of wine in Eureka Springs, Arkansas

Later--Lots of the women in my family have been into swimming. My grandma swam her whole life. My cousin swam for one of the Illinois state schools, and my mom swam and encouraged me to swim, both for the YMCA and for one year in high school (oh, how I miss my guns from back then). 

Somewhere along the way the Deb got into water aerobics. Of course she couldn't just take a water aerobics class. She had to teach them. Now she is a popular water aerobics instructor at the fitness center near her home in Arkansas. 

Just a bit later--I don't know where she got the idea to start running, but she did. And, of course, she couldn't just do a 5k like a normal person. She had to do the Tower of Terror Ten Miler in Disney World, an overnight run through the park. 

Somewhere in the middle of her training, though, she hurt her foot/ankle and had to change her routine to power walking. (Disney has a 16-minute mile limit and will toss you off the course if you are slower than that. They don't wan the back-of-the-pack zombies straggling in when families are just starting their day at the Magic Kingdom.)

Her first year, 2012, she did great. You can read about how she did, and how I hurt myself that year here.

The second year she went back and sh!t hit the fan. I got a text in the middle of the night from my cousin that said, "your mom is in a wheelchair." Apparently she couldn't walk anymore so they stuffed her in the sag wagon and drove her to the end. She was pretty mad about that situation.

Getting on bus for first ToTTM

Nowadays--In the middle of all this running and water aerboics-ing, she golfs, takes out kayaks, and does who knows what. 

On Facebook, I mentioned wanted to learn how to stand up paddle board this summer (I just can't bring myself to use "SUP"), and she wrote, "I did it last summer with my friend Barb. It's quite a core workout but lots of fun. I recommend a beer as a warm up so you relax." (Now, you know where I get it.)

Last year she and the Dale bought bikes. She flirted with the idea of going on ragby last year, but bailed after a crash left her a little gun-shy. She doesn't like riding with people, she claims. So, Ragby should be fun....

This year, she has signed up again, and she's bringing the Dale with her. I am so excited for her to join us. As you can tell, she's a pretty good time and she's not afraid to sacrifice her body. All stellar Team Beaver requirements.

Of course, she is also training for her third Tower of Terror Ten Miler (give it up already, right?) and she is trying to convince me to do the Tap and Run (uh, no, if I am going to chug beer, I am going to do it from the comfort of my bicycle). But, she and the Dale have been out for several rides down in Arkansas, and I am pretty sure she is going to love ragbrai. 

And, so, like I said, now you know where I get it, both my love of combining booze and sporting events and my innate ability to get injured. I am so proud to have a mom that is out there, scrapping it up, trying new things, and staying fit. She is a bad ass and a true inspiration.

An original G, if G is short for Grandma

 Happy birthday mom!

Back in the Day Friday: Pink Bike Winning!

Saturday, March 15, was a big day. I took my first outside bike ride of 2014! 

(Don't judge me. It is freaking cold here. The two nice days we had last week I was knee deep in midterms. And, except under rare circumstances, I have a 40-degree limit.)

It was in the upper 50s and windy as a mother, but the sun was shining and the roads were clear. I heard tons of people complaining about the state of the trails, so rather than risk my skinny tires on detritus and potholes, I took the Mother Trucker. 

Mother Trucker outside our hotel in Bruges.

I don't know how far I rode. The Tiger took my computer off the Trucker before we went to Europe, and he hasn't put it back on yet. It doesn't really matter. I had my Trucker-mentality which is slow and mellow. 

First, I went to Back Country to drop off a bowl A.Z. left at our house during Mardi Gnaux. Jay snapped a picture of me. He tease me for being over dressed, but I hate being cold. I was wearing mostly all BCO. An Ibex short sleeve tshirt, a half-zip mid-layer from Icebreaker, then the Ibex Shak jacket, and my Mountain Hardwear G-50 jacket (rated "warmer than it looks). Plus my Ibex El Fito pants and a wool hat. Go buy all that stuff from Back Country Outfitters, not online. You'll love it.

Then, I rode over to Ashworth Pool and hopped on the trail. Conditions were pretty good, I have to say, and I saw lots of folks on bikes and running. I decided to do the Waterworks Park Loops, just to see what was up. On the back side of the park, I stopped for a guy in tennis shoes walking a road bike. He had a flat, but he had used his last tube and CO2 the day before and hadn't repacked his seat bag. 

The tires on the MoTro are fat, so I knew I wouldn't have a tube, but my repair kit was pretty well stocked, so I offered him a patch kit and a pump. (I have never felt more like a bagger). He declined. He had a ride coming. And, he said, "it was a nice day to walk." 

Wearing cycling shoes probably ups the ante when it comes to the patch + ride vs. walk + call for help equation. 

Then, I rode into the beast of the headwind over to Confluence Brewery. I was hoping they still had Milkman on Nitro, but it was gone. I had an Irish Twin and sat out in the sunshine on the back deck and enjoyed my beer. As I was the only one out there, I will have to say I probably wasn't over dressed. 

It was a great first ride. The Trucker is nice this time of year because you can wear a bunch of layers and not worry about where to put them if you get hot. And, I can hide my hands behind the handlebar bag when they get chilly. 

And, for this edition of Back in the Day Friday, I want to brag even more about the amazing feats of the Mother Trucker in its inaugural year. 

First, she won the Coolest Bike in Town: Tour Division last May (also at Confluence Brewery). Just ignore the fact that there was only one other bike in the category, and it was an old recumbent touring bike.

Looking pretty.

For that, she won a spot in the Bike Collective Calendar. February, obviously.

Overbuilt bikes are soo romantic.

Unfortunately, the Bike Collective is better at bikes than they are at copy editing because they got my name spelled both right and wrong in the copy.

Loren's simple instructions: proofread, yo.

Though, considering the number of errors in grammar and spelling and punctuation in this blog, I probably shouldn't judge.

The Trucker also had a big day last November when I entered the annual Cranksgiving event at the Mars Cafe. It was the coldest freaking day of the year, and one of the fast ladies in town was riding in the women's category, so I figured I wouldn't do very well, but I wanted to at least participate. 

When you have to wear a down coat while cycling, you know it is cold.

I had a different strategy this year, than last year, and with the ease of throwing things in the bags on the trucker, and stashing the receipts, I made it back to the coffee shop before all the other ladies. Boom! 

Full disclosure: the fast lady I had seen earlier changed categories. Her boyfriend, who was not entered, was pulling a Burley and that is where she was stashing her goods. She changed to the family division, to be fair. 

So, that was exciting and unexpected.

It was a good year for the Trucker, and if I can get my sh!t together, and perhaps buy skinnier tires, I hope to take it on some big adventures this summer--the ride out to ragby anyone?

Medals in their place of honor on the peg board.

T.R.X.X.X.: The Good, the Bad, and the Strappy

Two Mondays ago, Goldie, Masinga, and I tried something new. Well, sort of new. New to us. 

We went to Tomoko's TRX class. 

In hindsight, this was probably a mistake. The class starts at 5:10am, and it was daylight savings, so when I got in Goldie's car, the dashboard read 3:48am. And, the clock in the TRX room read 4:08am. And, our bodies were like: "wtf?"

In case you don't know what TRX is, here's how they sell it to unsuspecting fitness seekers:**

**Full disclosure, I did TRX way back in the day with Gwyn and I couldn't walk for three days.

What they don't tell you is that T.R.X. is sooo hard. It is like Cirque du Soleil, only you are not a cir-performer. You are just a regular schmuck. And even just getting into the damn straps at 5:10/4:10 in the morning is a challenge. 

(Masinga gets extra shout out because she did something similarly challenging on Friday night: pole dancing--for fitness, not for dollas. Masinga, you rock.)

The Good: I like using the T.R.X. for my squats and lunges. I have a hard time keeping good form and balancing, so having the straps to hold me up lets me get a deeper and more effective movement. 

The Bad: I don't think Tomoko is super good at keeping track of time, so she would set us doing one-leg lunges, and we would just keep doing it for some seemingly arbitrary amount of time. Then she would tell us to stop, but there didn't seem to be much rhyme or reason. 

The Ugly: Push-up with a pike. Your feet are suspended in the air. You do a push-up, then you do a pike. This is pretty ugly on my end of the gym because I have a hard time holding a plank for more than about 15 seconds with my feet in the air. The push-up with pike is particularly hilarious. 

Me, Tomoko, and the straps of torture in the background.

Tomoko even came over to check on me last Monday. "Are you okay," she asked.

"Yes," I replied, face flat on the mat, "I am just really bad at these."

T.R.X. is so hard that I think I have a hard time getting a good workout because I am just so bad at the movements. It would be like trying to get a work out while riding a bike, while you are still learning how to ride a bike.

But, I am accepting that there is a learning curve, and it is going to be particularly steep in this case. And I am trying to remind myself that hard, super-stupidly, disgustingly hard, is probably good. It is a sign that I am challenging myself. 

Of course, Goldie loves it. 

Goldie loves hard things (twss)

Last Monday, I felt infinitesimally better at T.R.X. I could feel my ads working like crazy. Maybe by the next day light savings, I'll be able to do the "human saw" for more than 30 seconds. Low expectations!

My hope is that we can add T.R.X. in once a week to our strength training regime. 

Monday: T.R.X.

Wednesday: heavy weights

Fridays: Masinga's magic body weight strength training

Post Script: The Extra Ugly. Don't get me wrong. I love the YMCA. I love their facilities. I love their members. I love their workers. I love it. But, I have to say, that asking for service beyond the swipe the card/pick up a towel at the front desk rarely goes smoothly.

Maybe it is because when I got to the gym, early in the morning and on the weekends, they don't have their A-team working behind the counters. You'll remember the incident of Steven's spin class? 

Well, in order to attend T.R.X. you have to pay a bit extra. There is a punch card system. You buy a punch card at the beginning of a 6-week period. You have to use all your punches by the end of the six-week period. The punches are like 5$ a piece and include things like kettlebells, T.R.X. and hapkito. 

We tried to buy our punches before class last Monday, but the system wasn't working, so they said we could do it after class. We went after class and it was a hot mess. First, they had to put everyone's name in the system. Then, they couldn't figure out how to do two punches. So, I got one punch on my name and one on the Tiger's name. (wtf?!). Masinga and Goldie both paid cash for just one punch, but that was still pretty confusing. And it took about 20 minutes. We were promised that they would figure out how to do it so we could get our punches the next time we come in, but I have my doubts.

W.O.W.

Remember the 90s? Well, the end of the 90s at least? 

I started college in the August of 1999, and the University of Iowa welcomed me, and Marthy, and H-Bomb, and Frankie to the campus with what they called "Weeks of Welcome." The idea was to have lots of fun events to get freshmen to leave the safety of their dorm rooms, meet one another, and have lots of good old fashioned wholesome fun. 

A group of us even took the CamBus to Carver Hawkeye Arena to see the Black Eyed-Peas, before they had Fergie. Yeah, it was a while ago. I know. 

The signs for Weeks of Welcome were all over the place, and they featured a huge W, an O, and another W. Get it? I think it was probably H-Bomb who started it, but we decided to replicate this sign, and illustrate the fun of Weeks of Welcome, by holding up three fingers on both hands on either side of o-shaped mouths. 

You can't make the second W if you are taking a selfie.

It was like a gang symbol for nerds. 

The reason why we are taking this little gaunt down memory lane is this: I am hereby declaring March 3 through March 7th as the Week of Wallowing. Hence, the lack of blogging. It is hard to reach a computer from the wallow.

Obviously, Week of Wallowing is less fun than the week of welcome, but it felt good to at least give it a name and put a limit on it. My thinking is that if you designate a week for wallowing, well, then you can get all your wallowing out of the way and move on. 

Why was I wallowing you ask? Well, let me tell you. 

Wallow 1: Sunday, March 2 was Mardi Gnaux, which was not a cause of wallowing. It was really fun. Except that it was extremely cold, like -1 was the high, which made the parade something of a Shakletonian effort. But, it was a long, long, long day. I got up at 6:30am to start cleaning and preparing, and our last little beaver didn't depart until 9:30pm. So, Monday, March 3rd, I was pretty tuckered out and out of my head. 

Wallow 2: Tuesday March 4 all the sh!t that is going down over at Some Girls Prefer Carnations Land really hit me. I felt sad. I felt helpless. I felt confused. I felt angry. But, I am not great at feeling my feelings, so it was kind of inside my head. 

Wallow 3: I got sick. Those of you who know me know that when I get sick, I like to play this game called, "oh, I'm not sick. I just have allergies." I hate to admit to being sick, and I don't want to feel like I am getting everyone else sick, and I don't want to stay home from work, so I just pretend that I am fine and not contagious. It only sort of works, so I was congested and phglemy and my brain wasn't working all that well. Not the best Rice. 

Grade, sniffle, repeat.

Wallow 4: Did I mention it is still cold as balls around here?

The way that you celebrate a Week of Wallowing is to sleep a lot, though, you will wake up often coughing and adding to the pile of soiled tissues, take crying breaks in the middle of grading papers, get behind in said grading of papers, and spend evenings comatose on the sofa with a glass of wine. 

Thankfully, that's over. 

Week of Wallowing came to a close when I decided that I didn't care if I was sick, I was going to go to Burlesque Bingo on Saturday, dammit. And, I went to burlesque bingo. The Tiger, Dick-Stew, and Masinga came with me. And, every time someone bought a round of shots for the bar ($10 and the proceeds went to something good, I think), I took one! And, I won a round of bingo.

I won a pair of tickets to the Des Moines Playhouse and a free drink. What did I get for my free drink? Well, I asked the cute (gay) bartender at the Saddle what was his most expensive drink. He looked at me, acknowledged my inherent silliness, and then shrugged and said, "Patron, I guess." 

"One Patron, with lots of ice and lime," I said and left him a big tip. 

Then, I went to the Library with the Tiger and Dick-Stew, where, understandably, I was pretty sassy. Then I insisted I get dropped off at Goldie's house, where she was entertaining some ladies. There I drank a bunch of wine, ate a bunch of chips, did some light burlesque dancing of my own, and horsed around with Sam-I-Am, Goldie's small one. If you are going to disgrace yourself, at least do it in the safety of a friend's home. 

If you are going to tie one on, I decided, you might as well do it when you are already sick, sad, and cold, because the after effects are just so much less noticeable. 

On Sunday, I switched gears and went from Week of Wallowing to Week of Mid-term-Holy-Hell (WoMTHH)  to Week of Break of Spring (WOBOS). Which is where I am now. I am still cold, and still sad, but I think I got that sickness and need to wallow out of my system. 

Robins going bat-shit in the park.

Today, I Prefer Carnations, Too!

Today is Mardi Gras, but I don't feel like celebrating. Instead, I am really, really, really sad. My dear friend, Heather Allen, got some bad news over the weekend.

She has cancer, again. Again!

Heather is my age. In fact, I sat behind her in AP Biology. I sat next to Steven. Steven and I helped Heather pick out her outfit for her first date with the man that would become her husband and father of her two amazing daughters. Heather lived two floors below me in college, so we have been friends for-ev-er.

In 2010, she was diagnosed with inflammatory breast cancer. Which is completely unfair. The world needs Heather. She is so-smart. She has a PhD in microbiology, so she is actively trying to save the world. She is a vegetarian. She recycles. She buys local. She eats her vegetables. She rices her bike to work. She has dance parties in her living room on a regular basis. She has the most infectious and insane laugh that you have ever heard. The world needs more people like Heather, but we also need her in particular.

She beat that breast cancer, but now, it is back. And, it seems pretty bad this time. Heather explains all of this in her amazing blog, Some Girls Prefer Carnations. She is a scientist, so she is practical and objective, and explains everything with incredible lucidity. If you aren't a regular reader, get over there.

Heather is really the first person in my life who has gone through an experience like this, and I just don't know how to feel or what to do. I am just very, very sad.

I wish I had the blog-influence or the fundraising power of the Fat Cyclist today, so I could do more, but all I have is this little blog, so I am going to reach out to you, gentle readers. If you'd like to help, send some good vibes towards Ames today.

Or, if you want to do more than good vibes, chip in to her "pay for Heather to have a housekeeper because no one should have cancer and have to clean the toilet fund."

If you'd like to do even more, I am organizing a care-package collective. My friend Martha organized one the last time around (I can't believe I have to say that), and I think Heather really enjoyed having something to open during the drudgery of chemo. You can sign up here, and email me if you have questions.

And, if you are so inclined, share Heather's story.

I would like to put on a fundraiser of some kind, so if you have ideas for ways to get people to open their wallets, I am willing to do about anything. Just pop your suggestions in the comment box.

I know that cancer is never fair, but this cancer is so super-duper-unfair.

Thanks, and keep your fingers crossed that le bon tons are ahead for us all.