Morning weigh-in: 174.5#, 10.5% BF
Gym last night, then hit Which Brew. A Three Monks side project was playing, pure jazz. I've been listening to Yes (also Jethro Tull) a lot lately, amazing stuff, was thinking that they's never let that kind of music be made nowadays...
Tonight is Tom's wedding (stayed home from work to get ready), tomorrow is Englishtown.
Morning weigh-in: 172.5#, 11.5% BF
I was planning to ride with the South Mountain Cycles ride in Emmaus, but they leave at 5:30 and I couldn't be there until 6:30, I would have to ride in (somewhat unfamiliar area), use the cell to find them so I blew it off. Good thing too, I was pretty tired.
My alternate ride was to go down the towpath to Bethlehem, then ride the trails behind St. Luke's before returning. Given 45-60 minutes to get there, ditto for the return, and I would have daylight minus two hours for "the real ride" (sun would set at 8:30, figure 9:00 for full dark). Leaving at 5:15 or even 5:30 would give plenty of time, at least for an abbreviated Sals lap... except I didn't actually start until 6:20...
I had no strength to hammer, my average was probably 14-15 mph and I crossed the Hill-to-Hill Bridge at 7:10, then rode in behind St Luke's, only got partway up the Spanky before I realized my time was running out and bailed. I got further than last Sunday, but still spent a lot of my ride on the intermediate/ATV trails rather than the new singletrack. Oh well, maybe next time -- like Friday.
Cruising home, I decided to skip the Palmer bike path, since it's a little less direct and would put me in some high traffic areas just as the sun went down; instead I rode back along the ruins of the canal, retracing my steps to Riverside Park. This would have saved some time... except that as I got to the new boat launch, there were two teenage girls sitting there who asked to borrow my cell phone. Turns out they lived nearby, had gone swimming, weren't sure how to get back, and were out of non-emergency (ie non-911) minutes on their own cell. They called their moms, but got no answer; I offered to show them back to the trailhead but I guess they were leery of walking off into the woods with a stranger as the sun went down... I gave them directions and wished them luck, then rode off.
A few hundred yards later my phone rings. One of their mothers had called back, so I rode back to the girls, and just as they were calling home one girl's brother bicycled up with his sidekick: "You are sooo in trouble! Mom's going to kill you!!" All was well once again, and the boys knew how to get them all home... Dealing with that little crisis put me home just a little after dark.
Morning weigh-in: 177#, 3% BF (damn thing probably needs new batteries)
Rode at the 'burg yesterday afternoon/evening. Myself, Rich B, Joe C, Curt, couple of other guys I didn't know; Joe, Rich, Curt and I were all on our singlespeeds. Hot day, hard and fast riding, I was soaked through and dripping sweat. Those guys really move. I felt sorry for one dude though, he was on his fifth ride ever, got himself a real baptism by fire & bailed a little early because he was whooped.
Dinner was Which Brew, beef & pork enchilada while the laundry did its thing.
Morning weigh-in: 177.5#, 8.5%BF
So I hear my old friend Joe flipped at Porters Pub, got himself thrown out... seems he ran into Pete (the other Pete, motorcycle Pete, mechanic Pete) who asked him where he's been getting his car worked on lately -- Pete works at Revelation Motors, where Joe used to get his oil changed... Joe owes them money over there and won't answer or return phone calls... Joe apparently exploded, got all in his face threatening violence, yelling and cursing, both at Pete and other patrons, until they tossed him. Maybe it's fallout from his father's death, but I think he just took a giant step closer to institutionalization, in one form or another. I feel bad for the guy, but I am so glad I don't have to deal with him, or be his apologist to others anymore.
Morning weigh-in: 174.5#, 10% BF
Friday night was semi-drizzly, so I didn't ride, then I stayed home and played with the computer: not an early night exactly, but definitely more restful than some of the alternate scenarios. I spent a lot of the time looking into how printing works, and things like lpstat & lpd, probably things I should have known a long time ago.
Saturday was a trip to Coffee Works, then to the gym, and then I went over to Bethlehem. Got a burrito at Tulum and met Dave at Salisbury for some trailwork. Nice stuff, I hadn't seen this particular trail yet, and it looks like it'll be sweet. I stopped over at Doug's on the way home, he and Lori were working on the tandem so I tossed my two cents into the project. They got a good laugh since I was apparently as filthy as a hog... Heavyweight Lunacy and then an iced coffee, hung out a while, then decided to clean up and meet them for dinner at Which Brew, very nice. I am not a seafood person, but WB has paella as a regular thing, and I hear it's awesome. Lori got it & loved it.
They left, but I spent a few more minutes before leaving myself, had a snifter of Prophecy and sat at the bar. Pete was there, but he seemed ticked off, his girlfriend was bartending and they had some kind of fight, and he just walked out. Great guy, very fun and interesting company usually, but I think I'll avoid him when she's around: their relationship is crashing and burning and I don't know him (or her) well enough to want to have to deal with it...
Sunday I got up reasonably early, rode the towpath down to St Lukes with the intention of doing some Sals riding, but got a flat and that was exactly the over/under, I went from "I have plenty of time" to "if I turn around now I won't be late," so the actual singletrack part of the ride was aborted. On the way back, some dude caught me napping, gave me the same "f--- you pass" I laid on that youngster the other day. So, uh, naturally I gave chase, grabbed his wheel, and he hammered away with me right there on his ass -- he would look over his shoulder every so often too, tried to be subtle about it but would hammer even harder after each time, wore himself out & slowed down each time as well, until we caught up with a few others riding slow in a narrow area. Rest and respite for him, but as soon as it opened up he took off in a sprint, and I uh, naturally stuck like glue. I could tell he was giving it everything he had, so I pulled up next to him and started a conversation... I followed him into the one technical section on the trail, a spillway made of little concrete squares, and he took it fast like he expected me to choke but I was still right on his tail. I think that was the last straw, he blew up immediately afterward. I passed him & asked if he wanted to grab my wheel but he just stopped and shook his head, panting like he was going to puke his lungs out. I'm such a bastard...
Kind of funny, I noticed he talked to no one else while he rode, maybe what I though was a "f--- you" was just social ineptitude -- I certainly would not have ridden as long as he/we did behind the slower group if I were alone, but would have announced myself and asked for a good passing opportunity; also, he didn't say hello to anyone we passed going the other way. Flat pedals, no helmet, full suspension bike, quick but clueless, I was getting some mixed messages. I wonder if I'll see him again out there.
I got home and bought a 2 liter bottle of Sprite at the corner deli, then found Dapper Dan next door and a bunch of other people working to remove the huge (approx 1500 lbs), 125-year-old player piano from their house. I got dragooned for a bit but I had to keep moving, had to go to Madison, NJ for my cousin's wife's memorial service. I'll have more on the service, but later.
