Sunday marked the conclusion of the nine stage Tour of Switzerland. Zdenek and I should have two weeks of television freedom until Le Tour begins. (Sunday also represented my first rest day after two straight weeks of running and biking, culminating with a tough 13 miles in the Saturday morning heat. I rewarded myself on Sunday by going for a delicious brunch with Caitlin and then splurging on two new pairs of shoes. Well, technically the shoes didn’t really have anything to do all of the running and riding I’ve done, but it seems better if I can say that I “earned” them in some way.)
One of the things I’ve learned to appreciate about cycling races is that they really have a way of separating the pack and allowing the most deserving winner to emerge. It seems that, after days and days of time trials and sprints and mountain climbs, the best man (and hopefully not just the most EPO’ed one) really does win. (I contrast this with football/soccer, in which the one of the highest rank teams can go up against one of the lowest rank teams, and yet still barely eek out a winning goal. Something seems remarkably unfair with a scoring system like that.) In cycling, I can’t imagine a scenario in which the lowest ranked rider (in the case of the Tour of Switzlerand, Noe Gianetti, whoever that is) would stand a chance against any rider finishing in the top 10. Indeed, no offence to Mr. Gianetti, who could kick my ass any day, but he finished about 90 minutes behind the lead group.
While Zdenek and I seem to have some sort of cycling event recorded on our DVR almost every day of the year, this year’s Tour of Switzerland made fantastic viewing for many reasons:
(1) Fabian took center-stage, at least for the first couple of days that he wore the yellow jersey, and even after that given that he was riding in his home turf. The camera took many long shots of him riding, eating, smiling, waving, giving the thumbs-up, etc. This is how all cycling should be televised.
(2) The field was outstanding. All but three big names (Contador, Basso, and Evans) were in attendance, and performances in Switzerland gave a good glimpse of who will be the big contenders in Le Tour. In fact, there are so many good riders this year that, on our ride yesterday morning, Zdenek excitedly talked for three or four miles about the strength of each team and who might stand a shot at the podium in Paris. (On miles 15-18, Zdenek relayed the saga of LeMond and Fignon for me, which certainly helped take my mind off the burning pain in my legs while climbing Harlem Hill.)
(3) The Swiss countryside is positively breathtaking and makes for beautiful screen shots. Unfortunately, every time Paul Sherwen commented, “We hope you’re watching these pictures in high definition,” Zdenek said, “No, we’re not, we’re watching it on a 1998 Sony Trinitron.” It seems certain that our July 24 move (which happens to be the final weekend of Le Tour) will entail the purchase of a big screen television -- a just reward for what I know will have been three weeks of dedicated viewing.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
The price I pay
Yesterday in New York it rained long and hard. Though the drizzly weather tapered off sometime during the night, the roads were still wet and marked with puddles when Zdenek and I headed out for our ride this morning. We cycled our first two loops hard, making good time and then even better time. Zdenek took the lead for the majority, and the wet conditions caused his back wheel to kick up a lot of slimy dirt on my legs, arms, and face. No bother -- I kept my eyes glued to his tire and drafted as closely as I could to maintain the pace. On the third loop, we eased up a bit and rode side by side, and I mentioned to Zdenek that I had taken a lot of muck to the face on the previous two laps. He apologized -- as if there were something he could have done about it.
Fortunately, eating dirt wasn’t the most memorable part of this morning’s ride. That came near the end of our third loop as we rode together casually, and I, without a back wheel on which to concentrate, was able to look around at the Central Park runners making their morning miles. I noticed one woman in particular simply because her legs were outstanding -- long, muscled, and lean. She moved quickly, smoothly, along the bridle path. I looked again. It was Paula Radcliffe, the women’s marathon world record holder. No surprise there -- Paula is known to be in New York this week to take part in the Mini 10K race in Central Park on Saturday (which Zdenek, Caitlin, and I will definitely be cheering on). She’s also currently ~6 months pregnant (along with Kara Goucher, who is also running in Saturday’s 10K), and sure enough, her round belly protruded a bit under her white shirt. But with her impeccable posture and smooth stride, she made carrying the extra weight look effortless.
And as Zdenek and I rode on, rubbernecking, watching the world’s greatest female marathoner out for her morning warm-up, once again I felt so lucky to have the world’s greatest playground at my doorstep. Eating dirt is a small price to pay.
Fortunately, eating dirt wasn’t the most memorable part of this morning’s ride. That came near the end of our third loop as we rode together casually, and I, without a back wheel on which to concentrate, was able to look around at the Central Park runners making their morning miles. I noticed one woman in particular simply because her legs were outstanding -- long, muscled, and lean. She moved quickly, smoothly, along the bridle path. I looked again. It was Paula Radcliffe, the women’s marathon world record holder. No surprise there -- Paula is known to be in New York this week to take part in the Mini 10K race in Central Park on Saturday (which Zdenek, Caitlin, and I will definitely be cheering on). She’s also currently ~6 months pregnant (along with Kara Goucher, who is also running in Saturday’s 10K), and sure enough, her round belly protruded a bit under her white shirt. But with her impeccable posture and smooth stride, she made carrying the extra weight look effortless.
And as Zdenek and I rode on, rubbernecking, watching the world’s greatest female marathoner out for her morning warm-up, once again I felt so lucky to have the world’s greatest playground at my doorstep. Eating dirt is a small price to pay.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Three's a crowd
Zdenek and I have a pretty awesome marriage, or so we like to think. Sure, we have our usual fights and disagreements, but generally we are best friends day in and day out. We share everything from habits and likes and dislikes to a single bathroom. I’ve been flattered to have several friends tell me that they aspire to a marriage like Zdenek's and mine, and I know that a few of his colleagues have told him the same thing. Of course, I also know that our marital bliss isn’t all our own doing, and we’re fortunate that our lives are generally stress-free: we don’t typically have financial issues (unless you count the stress over apartment hunting); we’re both healthy and fit; and we lack children, which I’m told is the quickest and surest way to put any relationship under strain. I’m certain the future will bring its fair share of challenges. But for now we’re content to be coasting along pretty easily, including those times that we’re running or biking in tandem.
On Friday, however, our marital bliss was challenged at around mile 10 of our morning ride. After seven consecutive days of pretty tough running and biking workouts, my legs were feeling a bit worse for wear, and so early on in our ride I tucked in behind Zdenek to ease my workload. Zdenek is an excellent teammate -- he’s always looking around to see where I am, and he’s careful to ease the pace if he senses that I’m falling behind. I don’t typically ask him to do this, but I obviously appreciate his help and attention. Of course, if he does happen to drop me (which is most likely to occur on a hill climb), I’m usually not that bothered, either. The way I figure it, we both suffer: he will have to eventually slow down to wait for me to catch up, and I have to work that much harder without the benefit of his slipstream. And occasionally (as on Thursday's third loop), Zdenek will make it clear that he just wants to go for it and really work to his maximal effort; this is also fine by me, because I can fully appreciate his desire to test himself from time to time, and it’s fun to watch from behind as he races away.
All was going smoothly on Friday until just past 100th street. As I followed Zdenek into the descent, we passed an extremely fit woman on a very nice road bike. She looked great (though I’d say, dangerously exposed) in a tight, small cycling jersey. Her arms and legs rippled with just the perfect amount of toned muscle, and her long, blond ponytail waved behind her as she rode. She was definitely a triathlete and no doubt a very competitive one, too. But as I followed Zdenek down the hill, she caught up and overtook me, and then moved in between my bike and his. Because I generally try to avoid crowds when descending at 30 mph on a curvy road, I held back a bit and let her go. Unfortunately, this meant that by the time we reached the uphill portion, I had lost most of my momentum and was unable to make the climb at my usual pace. And by this point, Zdenek was already 10+ meters ahead of me and gaining by the second, so I decided to just spin my way up alone. Meanwhile, Miss Rippling Muscles latched on to my husband’s wheel and let him carry her halfway up the hill!
Upon realizing what was happening and seeing me struggling near the bottom of the hill, Zdenek slowed down to allow the blond bombshell pass and me to catch up. A few minutes later, when he and I were again riding side by side, I commented, “I bet you didn’t fail to notice the absolutely killer body on that woman.” And suddenly, Zdenek became upset! I, unclear as to what I had said wrong, erupted back. We then proceed to yell at one another over the next three miles as all the other runners and cyclists turned to see where the ruckus was coming from. It was both frustrating and unusual. Finally, somewhere in the middle of loop three, we identified the source of our misunderstanding. Zdenek assumed that I had deliberately slowed down to prove some sort of point -- no doubt something related to the fact that a fit, blond woman was competing with me for my husband’s back wheel. Alas, the truth was far less exciting: I simply wasn’t brave enough on the descent to maneuver my way between the two of them, nor was I powerful enough on the climb to keep up. (And my comment about her body really did come from a place of awe and envy.)
Once we sorted out our misunderstanding, it was smooth riding again. I figure if our biggest disagreements revolve around cycling and hill climbing, then we’re doing pretty well. In fact, I think that all of the running and cycling Zdenek and I do together has taught us a lot about mutual encouragement, respecting one another’s abilities and limitations, and that an important part of any happy marriage is alternating who has to get out of bed first for coffee brewing duties in the morning. Most importantly, cycling with Zdenek has reinforced that whenever I should fall behind, he can always be counted on to wait for me -- and it will take a lot more than toned muscles and a nice bike for someone to come between that.
On Friday, however, our marital bliss was challenged at around mile 10 of our morning ride. After seven consecutive days of pretty tough running and biking workouts, my legs were feeling a bit worse for wear, and so early on in our ride I tucked in behind Zdenek to ease my workload. Zdenek is an excellent teammate -- he’s always looking around to see where I am, and he’s careful to ease the pace if he senses that I’m falling behind. I don’t typically ask him to do this, but I obviously appreciate his help and attention. Of course, if he does happen to drop me (which is most likely to occur on a hill climb), I’m usually not that bothered, either. The way I figure it, we both suffer: he will have to eventually slow down to wait for me to catch up, and I have to work that much harder without the benefit of his slipstream. And occasionally (as on Thursday's third loop), Zdenek will make it clear that he just wants to go for it and really work to his maximal effort; this is also fine by me, because I can fully appreciate his desire to test himself from time to time, and it’s fun to watch from behind as he races away.
All was going smoothly on Friday until just past 100th street. As I followed Zdenek into the descent, we passed an extremely fit woman on a very nice road bike. She looked great (though I’d say, dangerously exposed) in a tight, small cycling jersey. Her arms and legs rippled with just the perfect amount of toned muscle, and her long, blond ponytail waved behind her as she rode. She was definitely a triathlete and no doubt a very competitive one, too. But as I followed Zdenek down the hill, she caught up and overtook me, and then moved in between my bike and his. Because I generally try to avoid crowds when descending at 30 mph on a curvy road, I held back a bit and let her go. Unfortunately, this meant that by the time we reached the uphill portion, I had lost most of my momentum and was unable to make the climb at my usual pace. And by this point, Zdenek was already 10+ meters ahead of me and gaining by the second, so I decided to just spin my way up alone. Meanwhile, Miss Rippling Muscles latched on to my husband’s wheel and let him carry her halfway up the hill!
Upon realizing what was happening and seeing me struggling near the bottom of the hill, Zdenek slowed down to allow the blond bombshell pass and me to catch up. A few minutes later, when he and I were again riding side by side, I commented, “I bet you didn’t fail to notice the absolutely killer body on that woman.” And suddenly, Zdenek became upset! I, unclear as to what I had said wrong, erupted back. We then proceed to yell at one another over the next three miles as all the other runners and cyclists turned to see where the ruckus was coming from. It was both frustrating and unusual. Finally, somewhere in the middle of loop three, we identified the source of our misunderstanding. Zdenek assumed that I had deliberately slowed down to prove some sort of point -- no doubt something related to the fact that a fit, blond woman was competing with me for my husband’s back wheel. Alas, the truth was far less exciting: I simply wasn’t brave enough on the descent to maneuver my way between the two of them, nor was I powerful enough on the climb to keep up. (And my comment about her body really did come from a place of awe and envy.)
Once we sorted out our misunderstanding, it was smooth riding again. I figure if our biggest disagreements revolve around cycling and hill climbing, then we’re doing pretty well. In fact, I think that all of the running and cycling Zdenek and I do together has taught us a lot about mutual encouragement, respecting one another’s abilities and limitations, and that an important part of any happy marriage is alternating who has to get out of bed first for coffee brewing duties in the morning. Most importantly, cycling with Zdenek has reinforced that whenever I should fall behind, he can always be counted on to wait for me -- and it will take a lot more than toned muscles and a nice bike for someone to come between that.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
A place to move
Once again, it’s been a while since I’ve had the motivation to post anything here. The fact is, apartment hunting seems to have sapped every last bit of energy from me (and sadly, it’s still not over). Any free time I might have between traipsing around the UWS looking at too-small, too-run-down apartments seems to be better spent outdoors on my patio than indoors on a laptop. Indeed, it won’t be much longer before I have to give up that treasured little piece of Manhattan real estate forever, and I’m already mourning the inevitable loss.
And frankly, my running and cycling have been sub-par of late. I’m still putting in the miles and getting out there six or seven times a week, but my paces have been slightly “off.” True, the 25oC+ weather and 75%+ humidity are not doing me any favors, but I’m used to demanding -- and usually getting -- so much more out of my body. When it comes right down to it, aside from my impromptu purchase of Lady Gaga tickets in the middle of my run last weekend (long story, but the most important point is that we now have tickets to the July 6 show at the Garden), there just hasn’t been much to say.
But yesterday, I slept in longer than usual and found myself running in the Park, sans Zdenek, at a slightly later hour. Despite it being my third consecutive day of running and fifth consecutive day of early morning action, I felt surprisingly decent. My stride seemed smooth, the warm weather didn’t feel too horrible under the shade of Central Park’s leafy canopies, and I easily fell into a groove. So much of a groove, in fact, that somewhere along the west side bridle path, I almost (literally) ran into Caitlin before I recognized her as the girl waving her arms in front of me and trying to get me to stop. At the last minute, I did, and she and I enjoyed an early morning catch-up session before heading off our separate ways (I ran through my several current apartment options with her, and, in typical Caitlin fashion, she formulated a logical evaluation on the spot). It was the perfect mid-run break, and it got me thinking that Caitlin and I should really schedule the occasional run together -- in the same direction, of course.
Today, I rolled out of bed as the sun was rising, tired and somewhat cranky from a very poor five or six hours of sleep. But Zdenek and I haven’t been on our bikes since Sunday, so we were long overdue for a spin. I wasn’t expecting much out of myself, and said to Zdenek as we were heading out the door, “If you want to cycle on your own, please feel free.” But I had spoken too soon because, once again, I surprised myself. We rode three laps today, each one faster than the last, and I managed a good portion of the ride without any assistance. In fact, for some of the time, I even lead the way. I returned home happy and satisfied, and so pleased that my cycling legs may have returned.
So while my pursuit of indoor space continues to frustrate, I can at least be thankful for the renewed sense of energy in my outdoor pursuits. Once again, I've realized that New York is best enjoyed when moving quickly. It is a very poor place, however, in which to move.
And frankly, my running and cycling have been sub-par of late. I’m still putting in the miles and getting out there six or seven times a week, but my paces have been slightly “off.” True, the 25oC+ weather and 75%+ humidity are not doing me any favors, but I’m used to demanding -- and usually getting -- so much more out of my body. When it comes right down to it, aside from my impromptu purchase of Lady Gaga tickets in the middle of my run last weekend (long story, but the most important point is that we now have tickets to the July 6 show at the Garden), there just hasn’t been much to say.
But yesterday, I slept in longer than usual and found myself running in the Park, sans Zdenek, at a slightly later hour. Despite it being my third consecutive day of running and fifth consecutive day of early morning action, I felt surprisingly decent. My stride seemed smooth, the warm weather didn’t feel too horrible under the shade of Central Park’s leafy canopies, and I easily fell into a groove. So much of a groove, in fact, that somewhere along the west side bridle path, I almost (literally) ran into Caitlin before I recognized her as the girl waving her arms in front of me and trying to get me to stop. At the last minute, I did, and she and I enjoyed an early morning catch-up session before heading off our separate ways (I ran through my several current apartment options with her, and, in typical Caitlin fashion, she formulated a logical evaluation on the spot). It was the perfect mid-run break, and it got me thinking that Caitlin and I should really schedule the occasional run together -- in the same direction, of course.
Today, I rolled out of bed as the sun was rising, tired and somewhat cranky from a very poor five or six hours of sleep. But Zdenek and I haven’t been on our bikes since Sunday, so we were long overdue for a spin. I wasn’t expecting much out of myself, and said to Zdenek as we were heading out the door, “If you want to cycle on your own, please feel free.” But I had spoken too soon because, once again, I surprised myself. We rode three laps today, each one faster than the last, and I managed a good portion of the ride without any assistance. In fact, for some of the time, I even lead the way. I returned home happy and satisfied, and so pleased that my cycling legs may have returned.
So while my pursuit of indoor space continues to frustrate, I can at least be thankful for the renewed sense of energy in my outdoor pursuits. Once again, I've realized that New York is best enjoyed when moving quickly. It is a very poor place, however, in which to move.
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