The www.1400Miles.com for Prostate Health – Free Beer Ride #1

Today’s ride on Strava – with more pictures

Short video of roll out of today’s ride

1400 Don't Fear the Finger
Don’t Fear the Finger!

Taint Misbehavin’

Today I went on a 22-mile bike ride with the 1400 Miles whose motto is “Probing the Conversation on Prostate Health.”  Their slogan is “Don’t Fear the Finger” (which for women who don’t know, stands for the DRE, the Digital Rectal Exam).  OK, I can tell by the perplexed look on your face and the tilted puppy dog head that I need to spell it out for you.  A DRE is when a doctor sticks his (or her) digit (finger, not an actual number – that would be weird) up your butt to feel your prostate gland.

As the recent recipient of this lovely procedure, A Dude can say it’s not pleasurable.  But then, neither is prostate cancer, so the DRE is one way to screen for it.  I did not sing “Moon River” a la Chevy Chase in the 80’s classic movie Fletch (which I’ve seen a dozen times with my brother).  Nor did I ask the doctor if he was using the whole fist or say he should at least buy me dinner.  But he did know the scene, so that’s good enough for me to trust him.  What does the perineum have to do with biking?  Well, alot if you put in as much T.I.T.S. as I do (remember, it’s T.ime I.n T.he S.addle).

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After 104 Miles, 50 Are a Walk in the Park

Lois:  Have you designed any buildings in New York?

George Costanza:  Have you seen the new addition to the Guggenheim?

Lois:  You did that?

George Costanza: Yep. And it didn’t take very long either.

                                — Seinfeld, “The Race”

After last month’s personal best of 104 miles in one day, it turns out that going on a 50-mile social ride isn’t that exciting to do or write about.  The century ride took 10 hours, and it took a lot out of me at all levels.   I expected fatigue and a bit of a let-down emotionally, so I was glad for the break.  After two days completely off the bike both before and three days off after that 130-mile week, including the Hill Country Ride for AIDS, I still put together a decent 105 miles the next week, including the 50-miler.

This was with the Bike Austin group that rides on Sundays from The Peddler, and it was notable for four reasons: Continue reading

My First Century: 104 Miles Biked for AIDS Charities

Friday, April 29, 2016, 10:16 am – The Day Before

It’s less than 24 hours to the biggest bicycle ride of my life, and A Dude Abikes is rushing around in order to relax. I’m getting a massage and reflexology treatment with my friend Richard. First I have to go to work to borrow a car; I’m not biking the day before, especially in the rain. Later, after the painfully pleasant massage, mostly on my legs, Richard offers to discount the rest of his fee if I’ll pick up a used recliner at a second-hand store. The lure of easy money is irresistible, plus I like to help. With the savings I pick up two necessities at a bike shop on the way — a rain jacket for the downpour forecast for the morning, and sunproof arm sleeves for the hot and sunny afternoon predicted to follow. But being stuck in Austin traffic stresses me out, and undoes alot of the relaxation. Whatever, my legs feel great, like heavy weights have been lifted from them.  Little did I know how important the session would be for my lesgs, tight from 1,600 miles of training since January.  Something major is coming.

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The Wheel of Life: Biking with the Ghosts of AIDS

To donate to my Hill Country Ride for AIDS effort on April 30th, please email me at <ADudeAbikes AT gmail >

The Wheel of Life

It’s early morning on a cloudy Sunday in the Hill Country town of Dripping Springs, Texas.  Fifty cyclists trickle into the empty school parking lot slowly, as if arriving at a wake.  They spill out of Subarus and Priuses (Prii, my high school Latin teacher’s voice echoes from the past), weird clowns in brightly colored costumes, but tight and made of Spandex, shoes not floppy, clicking on the ground.  Aliens looking down would be perplexed by this bizarre parade.  Their faces still show signs of sleep, coffee tumblers clutched closely in hands that would soon be covered in fingerless gloves.  There was banter and hugging friends, and talk about the chance of rain, while mentally they were each preparing themselves for 22 or 44 miles of relentless pedaling up and down country roads.

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The Hill Country Ride for AIDS “Joy Ride”, they call their training outings.  But underneath the frivolity and anticipation of just another weekend sporting event being replicated around the world, an air of solemnity hung over this group.  Despite my staunch atheism I can’t help but shake an eerie feeling.  It’s as if the ghosts of people lost to that damn fucking virus — so many lives lost, and still without a cure — are also gathered in that parking lot with us.  Brothers, sisters, lovers, husbands, wives, partners, mothers, sons and daughters.  They were there, watching and waiting, their energy drawn to the event, simply by virtue of being remembered.  I imagine a silently cheer emanates from the ghosts of HIV victims past, urging the living riders to go on in their names. Continue reading

1,000 Miles in 75 Days: Patience, Pedaling and Persistence

The Long and Unwinding, Hilly Road
The Long, Unwinding, Hilly Road… to Lovely Manor, Texas

    Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not: nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not: the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.

-Calvin Coolidge

     1,000 miles:  that’s how far my GPS app Strava tells me that I have bicycled in 2016 as of March 15.  Not too shabby, if you ask me.  If you’ve been reading this blog since the beginning (if you haven’t, you really ought to!), you know my first words were 3,000 miles.  That is the distance I estimated biking in 2015.  (Truth be told it was probably closer to 3,500, but that was pre-Strava.)  So with 20% of the year gone, I’ve already achieved 25% of my goal of 4,000.  At this pace, I will reach 5,000 miles.  Whatever number I reach, I’m on track (so to speak) to bike pretty damn far for me. Continue reading

On the Economy of Words and Pedal Strokes

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Snack of Non-Champions

< = + (Less is More)

One of the local authors A Dude Abikes met at One Page Salon (see my last post) is Natalia Sylvester.  I’ve just checked her book Chasing the Sun out from the Austin public library and look forward to reading it sometime I’m not working or biking.  Not only was she brilliant of mind, beautiful of visage and generous with advice, she was kind.  Clearly she has not hit the stereotypical writer’s bottle just yet.  Here’s a blurb:

Andres suspects his wife has left him—again. Then he learns that the unthinkable has happened: she’s been kidnapped. Too much time and too many secrets have come between Andres and Marabela, but now that she’s gone, he’ll do anything to get her back. Or will he?

     Nice, right?  Tight, to the point, to the point.  Taking a look at Natalia’s blog, I was struck by how economical she was with her words, something I have yet to master.  But I know it’s the sign of a good writer.  This is a rest day from the bike, after yesterday’s 24.9 miles (total for the day on Strava) – I missed 25 by that much, although that did not include my new short commute).  So I thought I’d try to emulate that and just put pen to paper.

Riding, like writing, is another example where less is usually better.  The fewer pedal strokes you take, the more energy is conserved.  And the less energy wasted the better. A Dude is no athlete, not in perfect health, and is no spring chicken either, so he feels every mile.  So constantly shifting gears help ascend the hills and descend the dales. Downshifting by not even biking for a day or two, or just going on a short recovery ride, is akin to shutting the hell up and being a good listener.  To wit:  sometimes the best answer to a stupid question is no words at all, just a wry smile. ;~}

“Regardless of how much money you have, your race, where you live, what religion you follow, you are going through something. Or you already have or you will. As momma always said, “Everybody’s got something.”

-Robin Roberts, Everybody’s Got Something

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47 mph Downhill, 5 Up & One Page Salon

Surviving Spicewood Springs

After a work retreat Monday, A Dude Abikes was at the top of this serious hill between Mesa and Loop 360.  I’ve always feared it, and yet since becoming serious about biking, I’ve wondered if I could bike up it.  It’s not called the Hill Country for nothing.  So after bragging to some co-workers that I was going to do it, I went ahead and just did it.  Without stretching, warming up, wearing my stretchy jeans with a full back-pack.  I admit it was a little insane but as Helen Keller said (who was a good and actual socialist, by the way): “Life is a grand adventure or nothing at all.”

I don’t have any witnesses, and Strava didn’t record it right, but I achieved my top speed to date:  47 miles per hour. The downhill was awesome, and one missed rock or a wrong move and I would have been a bloody mess on the ground requiring an ambulance ride. But I made it down without incident — just alot of adrenaline — and then stopped to look up.  I hoped the woman in the car stopped at the light would look at me like in a movie and say, “What, are you going to bike THAT?  Are you nuts?!”  But she didn’t notice I existed.  This is my Little Engine that Could moment and you’re ignoring me?  What a bee…yootiful day for a bike ride!

Spicewood Springs
Spicewood Springs Road looking downhill, west, toward Loop 360

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The Daily Grind (Bike Commuting Blues) & Hill Country Ride for AIDS

February 14, 2016 – Happy Valentine’s Day!

A Dude Abikes has not blogged for a while, but he’s back with a vengeance. He succumbed to Austin’s annual “Cedar Fever,” in which Hill Country juniper trees poison the Austin area air with a horrible cloud of yellow pollen which comes out of the body as green mucous. It envelopes the city and pollutes the lungs of its denizens like a big huge smelly fart that brings tears to the eyes and lingers — for three months. In addition, A Dude had to move due to rising rents without a similar increase in the filthy lucre from his daily labors. He’s looking for a new crib after his temporary place kicks him to the curb. So, he’s busy.  To make up for it he’s including alot of photos from recent rides.  Hopefully you’ll enjoy them.

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