Trivi-AL Pursuits

Well, another training update here. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo, right? Anyway, the Als did a nine-er this morning before heading into the factory. Nice run. We warmed up with a mile at 9 and then trimmed down to low 8s for the remainder.


Dismiss-AL

Your hero, Al Bangorhard, pulled a fast one and slipped out of work today. (Yes, this is after coming in late due to my long run.) I dismissed myself and headed to Shea. Where I spent 6 innings swallowing as much as I could (beer that is). Then I headed home thinking, " a bad day at Shea is better than a good day at work."

Land of the Vines

A strange occurrence happened here in Auburn, California this last few days. For some unexplained reason, a storm veered off tract and instead of slamming into the North Eastern States as usual, it passed right through Northern California. What the hell. This is April. We rarely get rain here in God's country and never in April. Temps should be in the upper 80's by now. So as expected after a gully washer, the trails were muddy as heck.

Sunday was the 17th running of the Napa Valley Dirt Classic mountain bike race and Heywood's first. Big Cat, Heywood, and The Cook made the two hour drive through a torrential downpour in the wife's gas guzzling SUV to the town of Angwin, just a stones throw from Napa. Upon our arrival we found nothing but beautiful rays from the sun shinning on the muddy trails. These conditions were going to make for a delightful race. This race draws a large crowd and even a few pro's like Mark Weir to name a few.

So with the firing of the gun, the race was off to a fast pace. Started with a few muddy climbs that were rideable and then the WALL came into Wood's view. This short steep hill was most likely walked by all racers on the course this year. Once atop the hill it was back on the bicycle for some fast, muddy terrain. Trying to stay upright was made very difficult due to all the mud that accumulated on the tires. While on one of the early descents, Wood took a nasty crash on a gradual left-hand bender. Not very technical, just unable to get any traction until I hit the large stump just off the trail. No worries, still riding. There was some of the most beautiful single track that I have ridden for the next few miles. Lots of turns, tight, ups and downs. Just amazing until.... the big climb.

Now Heywood does not have one of those computer things on his bike. You know, the kind that show you how far the bike has traveled. So at about mile 15, came this climb that has to be longest, steepest, longest climb Heywood has seen while aboard a mountain bike. It just keep going. Right when you thought it was over, you turned a corner and it got steeper. Never seen so many people pushing there bikes up a hill. Wood tried to stay on top of his bicycle as much as possible but had to walk a few spots. The mud made it even more difficult than this climb should have been. Believe the climb lasted about 4-5 miles before finally leveling off. From there, just a sprint to the finish.

So with a time clocked at just under a day, Heywood Jablome crossed the finish line. Was he first? Nope. But he did set a personal best time. More importantly, Wood beat the guy on the unicycle. Thank God. Will do this race next year fo sho.

Lessons learned:
1. Use tires more suited for mud when riding in mud.
2. Don't use brand new cycling shoes for the first time during a race.
3. If you do violate lesson number 2 (above), bring mole skin for the blisters.
4. Don't drink a 40 before the race.

Fred Dualey

Hang down your head, Fred Dualey
Hang down your head and cry
Hang down your head, Fred Dualey
Poor boy, you're bound to die

Moveitfred squeezed in a dualey today by:
a) Running one mile with the daughter this a.m.
b) Transitioning onto the bike for a hard two hours with multiple hill repeats
c) Lacing back up the sneaks for an easy three

Moveitfred spent what was left of the day sprawled out on the soccer sidelines watching his kids boot the little white ball and getting the top of his melon burned to an even red.

Makes Moveitfred feel like singin'.

first day with the new wheALs

Could it be? Yes it could!
Something's happening, something good!

Here Comes the sun...doo..do..doo...do



Wow what a morning to ride!!! The weather is just gorgeous. And after this shit spring, we deserve it! I popped on the new wheels for the first time, and away I went.





I did some big wheel grinding and pounded out 25 miles at a good clip. WHOA! These wheels are fast. They spin like tops. And it doesn't hurt that they're up near 130 psi. After the ride, I slung that little aero rocket into the back of the truck and ran a 5 miler. Nice du-AL workout for my saturday morning. Weather was so nice, I didn't want to stop.

On another note, who's gonna teach me how to change a tubular? I don't expect a flat, but I'm fucked if I get one. 'Bout all I know is it involves no tools and some glue. Nothing good can come of this.

FlashFred

First shorts day for Moveitfred. This annual event is completely outside the realm of understanding for Heywood Jablome, however those of us out here in these parts know. There comes a time in the spring, often swept onto our doorsteps by abrupt climatic change, when we get to strip off the warmers and dance like we've never danced before (more on this clever allusion in a moment).

Moveitfred, off from the factory for the entire day, skipped out on an early group ride and delayed his planned cycling until the noon hour in order to experience the full enjoyment of this glorious day. Of course we also know that first shorts days mean electric white legs exposed for the world to see for the first time in the new year. One must tune out the relentless catcalls from motorists and simply endure the ridicule for a few weeks until the pigments darken.

However this brings Moveitfred to his intended topic this day, one that, ironically, combines material above such as warmers and the striking image of white-hot leg exposure.

Last evening, while settling in for a round of ab work on the stability ball and flipping channels to find some good bun-burning inspiration, Moveitfred experienced a Flashback of gargantuan proportions. There, just starting up on the "Movies that Rock" segment on VH1, was a golden reel from Moveitfred's past: Flashdance.

Flashdance helped shape Moveitfred's world view at a significant developmental moment in his life. From the fluffy mane on that tasty little milkbone Jennifer Beal, to the titillating off-the-shoulder fashion, the warmers, the athletic tape, the sweat, the inspirational 80's hits...the entire package was a 10.

However, dear reader, do not think Moveitfred is stuck in a 1983 time capsule. Moveitfred has matured and is capable of now viewing these cinematic events under a new lens. What Moveitfred didn't remember from the old days is the significant environmental statement Flashdance presents to the viewer. Consider reader: Pittsburgh, steel town, filth, factory exhaust--our protagonist Alex toiling away under the heat of a Quiet Riot mask by day. At night, however, raw human sexuality, fitness, and power.

And--now follow along carefully because here is where Moveitfred ties all the threads together--what visual device allowed our protagonist Alex to bridge these two worlds?

The bicycle.

That's right, the bicycle. That Alex chick OWNED those mean streets of Pittsburgh on her bike. To/from work, a trip to the gym, off to the ballet company--Alex pounded out life with a Gewilli-esque passion for the clean-burning machine. What many remember from Flashdance is only the image of that bucket of water splashing down on our heroine, however what Moveitfred appreciates now is the timelessness of that other important message:

"You work all your life for that moment in time,
It could come or pass you by
It's a push of the world, but there's always a chance
If the hunger stays the night"

If Moveitfred could pass along one message to this confused and yearning world of ours it would be: Embrace the hunger.

10 Mi-ALS

The weather is improving and the boys are chomping at the bit. May the 7th is the Long Island half for Al K and I. We'll use this race to jump start the tri season.

Yesterday, we banged out a nice 10 as a training run. The Als went out in 9 minute miles. We just kept a nice slow pace and stretched out the legs. At the turn around, we trimmed down to 8s and finished with low 7s (final mile at 7:10). It was a nice run...I'm really looking forward to the upcoming Triathlon season. Our first tri will be an Olympic distance on 6/9 up in CT.

How Al Killed a No Hitter

So last night I'm watching the Mets beat up on the fish with Dontrel Willis on the mound. John Maine was fantastic, and in the sixth he was still hitless. Like a real dickhead, I call my dad (who I knew was out to dinner). "Dad," I say, "get your ass into the bar. Maine is pitching a no hitt--" BANG! Just as the words are coming out of my mouth, Miguel Cabrera swats a soft single to right center. Why couldn't I keep my fucking mouth shut? Well, at least the fish and Willis got their asses handed to 'em by my Metropolitans. And Maine looked great!

Megitfred

For years Al, Heywood, and fred have dished out big, honkin' spoonfuls of love and respect to the tempestuous Meg and her creaky knee. Now, after all that selfless support, Meg has finally, FINALLY seen fit to link the Bicoastals on her blog (in the NE section which kinda leaves Heywood outside the loop, but that's kinda where he belongs anyway).

In honor of this momentous occasion, Moveitfred pays his respects to one of the great TRANSPLANTED Mass (which is near NH, as far as Moveitfred knows) bloggers of renown. Posted below is Moveitfred's favorite image of the stunningly beautiful and complex Meg (and JD, you understand what Moveitfred means....)

Moveityogi

Al Bangorhard, in a fit of bewilderment and peevishness, recently chided Moveitfred for not posting any workout descriptions or data. For Al, and the other loyal reader, here, in a nutshell, is what Moveitfred accomplished Monday night (in this order):

Samasthiti
Surya Namaskara A
Surya Namaskara B
Padangushtasana
Padahastasana
Utthita Trikonasana
Parivritta Trikonasana
Utthita Parshvakonasana
Parivritta Parshvakonasana
Prasarita Padottanasana A
Prasarita Padottanasana B
Prasarita Padottanasana C
Prasarita Padottanasana D
Parshvottanasana
Utthita Hasta Padangushtasana
Ardha Baddha Padmottanasana
Utkatanasana
Virabhadrasana (A & B)
Dandasana
Paschimattanasana (3 types)
Purvatanasana
Ardha Baddha Padma Paschimattanasana
Tiriangmukhaikapada Paschimattanasana
Janu Shirshasana A
Janu Shirshasana B
Janu Shirshasana C
Marichyasana A
Marichyasana B
Marichyasana C
Marichyasana D
Navasana
Bhujapidasana
Kurmasana
Supta Kurmasana
Garbha Pindasana
Kukkutasana
Baddha Konasana
Upavishta Konasana
Supta Konasana
Supta Padangushtasana
Ubhaya Padangushtasana
Urdhva Mukha Paschimattanasana
Setu Bandhasana
Urdhva Dhanurasana
Paschimattanasana
Sarvangasana
Halasana
Karnapidasana
Urdhva Padmasana
Pindasana
Matsyasana
Uttana Padasana
Shirshasana
Baddha Padmasana
Padmasana
Uth Pluthi
Shavasana

Al, yoga is 90% mental and the other half is physical.

Hypothetic-AL

AP: "Agassi inadvertently hits wife with racket, Graf requires stitches"


Think anyone would buy me "inadvertently" swimming, running, then biking over Mrs. Bangorhard?







In reference to your query (in comments) Freddy, here are the tires I'd be using.

Moveitfred sez

Paris-Roubaix is not a summer race.

Fahkin' dusty cattle stampede.

Yawn.

Shelter From the Storm

The New York Times (herald of all things urbane and seminal) is calling the gathering disturbance out Moveitfred's window perhaps "the worst storm since 1992." Right now it's just rainin', but apparently several forces of great resolve are synchronizing into a potential catastrophe of historical proportions. In preparation for all this, Moveitfred ran out of the house this morning and down to the local Fourbucks to get himself a to-the-top venti house blend. No cow, no crystals--just straight up black brew. Moveitfred recommends all y'all take it stiff, soupy, and black.

All of this talk of "worst storm since '92" reminds Moveitfred that he was not privy to this last early 90's right coast disaster as he was living out his halcyon days on the left coast, schooling the young Heywood Jablome on the art of the full-throated, celebratory life and basking in the glow of Newport Beach sunsets. Then, in a turn of fate, Moveitfred accepted a position as the new kid in an aging right-coast factory operation in need of a young mind to propel the assembly line into the 21st Century. In time Moveitfred met the perplexing Al Bangorhard, and nothing has been the same since.

Why all this reflective meandering this morning? Boredom, really. Mrs. Moveitfred and Moveitfred's daughter are away west of these parts at a county swim meet where Moveitfred's daughter is undoubtedly schooling the others in her age group in the 50 Breast. Moveitfred's son is intent on assembling a new bow and arrow project in the other room. And Moveitfred...well, he's content nursing his black brew, watching the gathering storm out the window, and posting just a few choice bits of tail to remind him of those warm, glorious Cali days of old.

du-AL

Al eats, drinks, and make merry
I went out last night with a number of my man friends (all except Fred who isn't aloud out on weeknights and doesn't have permission to travel to the big city without adult supervision). We went to the world's best steak house, Keen's Chop House, Manhattan. I had a great meal and a number of great beers. All was good.


This morning was completely screwed for AL.
This morning was another story. I had a food hangover and was a bit dry (couldn't seem to find the damn cat that slept in my mouth, though). Freddy and I were supposed to do a road ride this AM, but that got F'ed because I had to run to the airport to pick up a family member.

After the airport, I used some well placed whining and pissing to get myself out of a b-day party for a family friend's 5 year old. The mrs. gave me a pass and took the kiddies. YEE-HAWWWW!!!

So I made my own little duathlon in the 2 hours I had. First, I trucked over to my circuit course at Cedar Creek and pumped out 20 miles on the Cervelo. A bit windy but lovely riding weather. Then I did a quick transition and busted through a 4 mile run. Damn, I felt good. I thought I would be in a world of hurt after the dual heapings of abuse I've given my insides this week (Met's home opener then the chop house last night). But I was good to go (after a visit to deuce-ville, of course).

Now I am going to sit back and re-hydrate while watching the Mets play the Nats. "Nothing could be finer.."

I got a Rash!

Heywood at your service, kinda

With the weather so stunning out here on the west coast, it is pointless to stay inside while letting the body decompose on the couch. So Heywood and Big Cat hit the trail to knock out one of IMBA Epic trails, the South Yuba. With the ladies in agreement to shuttle us to the top, Heywood’s reliable blue truck was strategically placed at Edward’s crossing. The shuttle service, consisting of two fine-looking ladies and an excellent mode of transportation, drove the boys to Highway 20 and Omega road where our Epic was to begin.
Heywood has one small problem that plagues his life while living in the foothills of California. Poison oak. For what purpose did God place this dreadful plant on Earth for? To devastate Heywood’s life? More on this later.
First few miles, a fun downhill ride on fire road to the town of Washington. The folks of this small mountain town believe the Civil War has not finished and are cheering for a victory for the south. Needless to say, the two boys never made eye contact with a soul and rode a quickly as possible to the safety of the trailhead.

While on the trail, the views of the river were astonishing. Water had a beautiful turquoise tint too it while the clarity was truly amazing. The South Yuba trail is a well built trail to say the least. Most of the next 20 miles or so consisted of slow winding single track through the dense foliage of this ecosystem. Nothing too technical to speak off, just not a very fast trail. There are half a dozen stream crossings; most of them have a newly constructed bridge so the feet stay dry. Although the trail drops in elevation overall, there are lots of climbs to get the heart rate pounding away above the lactate threshold. At one point the trail is a few yards away from the river. Then the trail rises a few hundred feet above making for a fun downhill to follow. This rise and fall repeats itself numerous times during the journey. There are also numerous swimming spots along the route. Just a spectacular day on the bike. But, there was one problem looming over the head of the two boys the entire ride. Poison oak. This shit was everywhere. There is no riding around it, ducking under it, or trying to avoid it by any means. This shit was everywhere. Never seen so much poison oak on a trail in all the days spent here on Earth. Now Woody did try to come prepared with Tecnu, baby wipes, and long sleeve shirts but, that just was not enough. By the end of the ride, Heywood appeared to be going into anaphylactic shock. The 3 Bicoastal Boys would have been the 2 East Coast Boys if not for the quick thinking of Big Cat who apparently caries preloaded syringes of Epinephrine and Benadryl in his pack. Big Cat was begging to try mouth to mouth to help Heywood out. Sure glad the Benadryl worked. That would have made for an uncomfortable ride back to the car.

So five hour after starting our trip, we located the truck that had a little surprise waiting for us. Life is good!

Fantastic-AL

4/9 Mets Home Opener: What a DAY! Al blows off the factory, downs some brews on the train, eats some pizza, and watches the boys of summer on a sunny and cool Spring day. Ah, baseball is back!

Well, beat the drum and hold the phone - the sun came out today!
We're born again, there's new grass on the field.
A-roundin' third, and headed for home, it's a brown-eyed handsome man;
Anyone can understand the way I feel.

CHORUS:
Oh, put me in, Coach - I'm ready to play today;
Put me in, Coach - I'm ready to play today;
Look at me, I can be Centerfield.

Well, I spent some time in the Mudville Nine, watchin' it from the bench;
You know I took some lumps when the Mighty Casey struck out.
So Say Hey Willie, tell Ty Cobb and Joe DiMaggio;
Don't say "it ain't so", you know the time is now.

CHORUS

Yeah! I got it, I got it!

Got a beat-up glove, a homemade bat, and brand-new pair of shoes;
You know I think it's time to give this game a ride.
Just to hit the ball and touch 'em all - a moment in the sun;
(pop) It's gone and you can tell that one goodbye!

CHORUS CHORUS Yeah!

Today, on the other hand, was less than fantastic. Screaming headache this morning. And lots of shit to do at the plant. Gorgeous afternoon, though. I ran a nice six with 6 1/4 mile repeats up the hill at Bethpage Park. Good leg workout. Burned out all of yesterdays toxins.

Let's Go Mets!

Met-Al Madness!

Bwwwwwwwwhaaaahaaaahaaaaaaaaa! Moveitfred done went and stole a prime-time title out from the clutches of Al Bangorhard!

Our hero, Al, and a factory co-hort, Benny Wonderlick, blew off the assembly line early today in order to catch the Mets home opener at Shea. Moveitfred will leave the tales of heroic athletic feats to the loquacious skills of Mr. Bangorhard, however Moveitfred would be remiss if he did not explore with some detail the bag o' Met gear that Al stashed under the sagging, torn seats of his piece o' shit Camry.

Al, for you other two readers out there, is, indeed, Mr. Met.

Moveitfred pulled into the factory parking lot this morning and found a space next to Al's ride, thereby enabling him to take inventory of all the Met gear stashed into a grocery bag. Al has the Mets baseball cap, the Mets t-shirt, the Mets official warmup jacket, the Mets pants. (Al also has a big o' fucking head like the real Mr. Met). Al even has big Mets shoes, which are like clown shoes that honk every time he takes a step.

Al, Moveitfred will be rooting right along with you through the dog days of summer in order to propel the home team right back into the fall classic where they belong!

In other news, as Heywood mentioned so correctly, Moveitfred and family spent an idyllic spring break in the wilds of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. In all, standard American fun that is just all too boring to retell in any meaningful way.

So, on to still other news. Moveitfred experimented with a full tri workout today. Running, cycling, and yoga. Tri, right Al?

Get Busy Living, or Get Busy Dying!

Heywood checking in:
We’re back. I do ask for forgiveness from the loyal listeners (Solo) regarding the recent lack of posts from the 3 bicoastal boys. We have all been busy. Out on the east coast, there was a temporary work shutdown for Al and Fred. They both did what any great American would do with a few days off, take a well deserved holiday. I hope those two enjoyed themselves. Both those birds are unaware of the technical advances recently made with laptops so they are unable to post while away from their houses. Come on guys, it’s the nineties, get with it!

As for me, I have been hanging out with the family in So Cal and spending some much needed time with the wife and dogs. Wood likes to keep a tiring schedule most of the time with riding, backpacking, and dog training. Sometimes the wife takes a back seat although she never complains about it. In fact, she usually encourages me to do it all. “Get busy living or get busy dying,” is what she tells me. And so I try, in large part due to her never ending support though all my endeavors, to truly LIVE life.

So pretty soon I get accustomed to her ways and start to expect such behavior. Many days surely pass without Heywood even noticing how special she truly is. Sometimes it takes a very stressful moment to realize what you have. These past couples of weeks have been filled with some extreme stress. The kind of stress that every family unfortunately faces every few years. And with all this stress surrounding the Jablome’s, there was my wife, solid as a rock. And it’s this stress that forces me to step back and appreciate what I have at home. So this past week was with my family. No computers. No blogs. No riding. Just family. Sure it was stressful and hectic. But it was also one of the best weeks of my life. I got to know my wife all over again and I loved it.

Now forget about all this mushy shit and get to the real shit with this blog. Heywood got a new ride. Wood owns a Santa Cruz Blur and loves the way it eats up single-track. It climbs fast, descends like a dream, and handles magnificent. But it lacks the 6.5” travel desired for some really big hits and fast downhill that Heywood loves to do. So last month, great wife #1 gave Woody the OK to purchase a new Santa Cruz Nomad. Unexpectedly, it came in just four weeks. That has to be an all time record for Santa Cruz. So I got a chance to take the beast out on the trails today and I am impressed. This bike just rocks! So while riding with Big Cat and Oscar the grouch, we decided to mix it up a little today. There is a local OHV/mountain bike park that splits the days between the two sports. Saturday was for the vehicles without engines so we gave it a try. Not knowing what trails to take, we just rolled the dice and tried a trail named Murderers. Sounds innocent enough, right? Hell no. This shit was balls to the wall, straight down with large boulders and drop offs and Wood loved it. This is kind of terrain used on downhill races. The Nomad was eating the trail up giving Wood a smile from ear to ear. I know what you’re saying, how tough could it be. Well at the bottom, the three of us run into the YETI-Fox downhill race team with Jared Graves. Yeah, the team was testing out equipment for the upcoming Sea Otter Classic next week in Monterrey, California. These guys had there team manager shuttling them up over and over in some big Ford Diesel with FOX plastered all over the sides. And in between runs the team mechanic wrenched on the bikes in the 30’ toy-hauler while they each received messages from the Swedish bikini team. These guys are the real deal and there fine tuning there downhill rigs for next weeks race on some trail that I just happened upon. Wood’s got no armor on, no full face piece and one very small set of balls. What the fuck was I doing here? These FOX dudes are going down these trails with some protective covering stolen from a medieval knight.

Somehow the trio survived the ordeal without a scratch. Luck was on our side. Will there be a next time? Yeah, I will give it another go around I guess. Like my wife says, “Get busy living, or get busy dying.”

Circ-AL

This morning it was colder than your best friend bangin' your significant other (while wearing your slippers and drinking your last Heineken).



I was out at 7:30 AM on the Cervelo for some laps around the closest thing we have to a velodrome around here...Cedar Creek Park. There's a central circuit of blacktop at the park that rings the playground, tennis courts, and ballfields. It is a bit more than a mile around and has a hill with some banking that is velodrome reminiscent in one spot.



In short, it is a quiet, smooth circuit that is good for some mile pumping. But when I got out, the temp was reading 30 degrees. And this does not account for the wind. Cedar Creek is on the water, and it was a-blowin' this morning on the Great South Bay! I shivered my way through 4 laps and scooted back to the car where I put on another layer and a third pair of gloves. This made it workable on the side where the wind hits your back. On the flipside, I hunkered down on the aeros and pumped on through.

I was hoping to see some of the riders who frequent this loop. But I was alone for the first 18 miles. (YOU PUSSIES!) Then a guy with a QR aero bike pulled up. But by the time he was unpacked and layered up, I was on mile 23 of 25. If it were a few miles earlier, I would have hooked up for some loops. But, at that point, I just wanted to finish. I pumped through my final two loops and called it good with 25 chilly miles under the belt.



In other news, Moveitfred is back from his outting to Virginny. (Freddy, hope there were no incidents involving buggery and banjoes.)



And, finally, a big shout-out to Heywood. Woody, much love brother. We're thinking of you here in NY.

Bangorhard OUT!

gastrointestin-AL

First, An Apology:
To our loyal and devoted readers (all 3 of you), I must apologize. I've been absent from these pages lately. I'm sorry.

Now, the Poop:




I must confess, I've got some issues (I know, Fred, you're saying, "no shit"). My guts give me trouble from time to time when I run, and it ain't pretty. I've reported on this before, but it continues to trouble me. It seems that running is quite "motivational" for my bowels. This is especially true of my morning runs (no pun intended) when I haven't had a chance to fully "download."

I've tried lots of things to deal with this...especially on race day. I've employed coffee, extra early wake ups, extra fiber, no fiber, oils, unguents, and once, I shudder to admit this, a pre marathon enema (that was a disaster as it led to more stops not fewer). The bottom line here, nothing has worked except for waiting to run until after the "clear out."

Well, this morning I did not have the luxury of a post dump run. Al K and I had an 8 on tap and we both had to be at the coal mine by late morning. We were kicking off at about 9, so the schedule did not accomodate my needs too well.

Things began nicely. It was a gorgeous, sunny, earlry spring day, and we were loving it. We trotted through the first 2 miles at a leisurely 8:30 pace. Then the cramps started. I warned AL K at about 2.75 that things were not good. At mile three I knew that "Houston, we have a problem."

I peeled off from Al K, hoping to walk back and find a bathroom or, if it came down to it, a big tree to grunt behind. I started duck walking the almost 3 miles back to Al K's house just praying for some divine intervention: LOOK, A MOBILE PORT O POTTY! No such luck.

When I was a mile from base camp, I saw a movie theater--DOOR LOCKED! Then there was a service station--NO BATHROOM! Squeezing my sphincter muscles for all they were worth, I shuffle-stepped to the deli across the street--OUT OF ORDER! At this point, I began to have that feeling one gets from time to time (besides the "oh god, I'm about to shit myself" feeling). I had that feeling that, somewhere above, someone was having a good laugh at my expense.

At this point, self-fouling seemd imminent. But I saw a last bastion of hope ahead: the train station. Like a power walker trying to hold a clementine in his ass while striding (I'm told this sort of thing goes on), I legged it the last quarter mile. As I approached the door, I had a horrible thought: I'm going to pull on this door and it will be locked. Then, in about 5 seconds, I'll be standing here in my own filth. But oh! Sweet reversal of fortune. The door swung open and there, ahead of me, was a Men's room.

I sped inside and dropped 'em. There was no time for a prophylactic papering, so I went into squat and squeeze mode (which, of course, was more of a squat and spray).

What a difference a few moments make! How is it that some simple (though severe) intestinal pressure can so dramatically effect one's whole worldview? I went from struggling in despair, defeated and despondent to exultant, rejoicing in my victory in just seconds. So simple, so silly.

See you on the road.

Half the man he used to be!

From ADA

"Did You Know?
Obesity is a chronic disease with a strong familial component.
Obesity increases one's risk of developing conditions such as high blood pressure, diabetes (type 2), heart disease, stroke, gallbladder disease and cancer of the breast, prostate and colon.
Health insurance providers rarely pay for treatment of obesity despite its serious effects on health.
The tendency toward obesity is fostered by our environment: lack of physical activity combined with high-calorie, low-cost foods.
If maintained, even weight losses as small as 10 percent of body weight can improve one's health.
The National Institutes of Health annually spends less than 1.0 percent of its budget on obesity research.
Persons with obesity are victims of employment and other discrimination, and are penalized for their condition despite many federal and state laws and policies."

So what is the big deal and why is Heywood Jablome boring all of the faithful readers of the bicoastal boys with this crap. Many of you may have missed the changes taking place with Moveitfred. The last time Heywood visited Fred was 5 months ago. Fred was a pathetic blob of fat cells barely recognizable as a human. Fred was better suited for the circus on display next to the bearded lady and a midget. The bike is not a place for a thing of his size. Fred was no longer able to keep up with his friends while hitting the pavement. He was the anchor of the group. Racing was out of the question. Zanconato was trying to figure how to build a bike that could withstand the loads of fat ass Fred. Fred was loosing confidence with every kilogram he gained while depression was sneaking its way into his life. Sickness was a way of life. The energy level was at an all time low. Something needed to change before he was dead or divorced from his love, the bicycle.

Then one day while watching Denise Austin in the morning, he thought to himself, "self, I can do that." So there it started. Soon Fred was rising early every morning to workout with Denise and get his sweat on. Food was no longer used as a way to kill time but rather a way to fuel his machine at work. Fred cut the crap out of the diet and started eating foods that more closely followed the FDA pyramid. Soon the pounds started to come off at an alarming rate. The faster they came off, the more inspired he became.

Now Fred is almost down to his fighting weight in college. He feels good, he looks good, he is good. Hills are now his friend on the bike. He dances on the pedals as he gracefully climbs the mountains of the east while caring half the weight he once did. He is truly a changed man. This year Fred will be one bad ass MoFo on the race course. I am very proud of my pal Fred and look forward to getting my ass kicked by his new slim, mean body, if you know what I mean.

These Girls Want To Know

What happened to the Bicoastal Boys?

One Down

While the majority of you were lounging at home complaining about the awful weather or the declining stock market, Heywood was out there doing it. Last Saturday, Woody competed in the 15th annual Cool mountain bike race. Cool is located about 6 miles south of God’s Country (Auburn for those of you who were wondering). Known for its mud in the winter, this year was surprisingly dry compared to years past. The temperature was in the mid 70’s with clear skies and no wind to speak of. The route consisted of two laps of a 10 mile loop. 70% fire road, 30% single track or double track. There are two really tough climbs with the rest of the course mostly rolling hills. What a perfect day for racing on the west coast.

Wood was a little anxious and did not want to be underdressed.

Me friend BIG CAT chose to wear his lucky suspenders.

Dust was in the air as 400 racers sprinted to the first turn.

Approaching the conclusion of each lap the riders faced a choice; take the easy route to the right which contained a muddy quagmire to slow down the pace or the jump to the left which got you over the swamp quickly as long as both wheels remained upright.

BIG CAT selected the bog. At least he was not overheating to any further extent.

Jablome took the jump.

While Wood did not finish 1st as previously premeditated, he did manage to stay clear of the dreadful DNF. This leaves lots of room for improvement for next year. Cheers!

Ides Of March

Al here. What's with everyone killing himself lately?

Anyway, Freddy Boy and I blew off a production meeting at the mine and pumped out some miles. It was overcast and breezy (through one section of the ride it was downright WINDY). Freddy and I did a nice 30 miles keepin' the pace up for a good portion of the ride. I'm getting more and more used to the aero rig. I feel fast on the thing, but I miss the classic geometry of my old Lemond Zurich.

Blowing off the Bronx 1/2 this Sunday. I probably could do it and be all right, but I just think it will be wise to wait a little while (allow a little more recovery time) before competing.

HEYWOOD!

Good Gawd, Man! Get your ass down south and save Moveitfred's West Coast digs!

time tri-AL

Well folks, I feel Good! Today was my first "real" workout in weeks. (I am feeling like I'm about 90% recovered which is a big improvement. I've been pretty sick for the last 2 months.) Today, Freddy and I took to the roads. It was the first warm (er) day up here in a while. We started early, so it was still chilly at our start (prolly 35 degrees). By the time we finished, it was a nice and sunny 45. I got my first real ride on the TT bike, and it was great.



The aero positioning took some getting used to. I found it strange to be steering with my elbows, shoulders, and back muscles. This was a real adjustment. At first, I noticed a good bit of weave when I pedaled. It took me a bit to get the right balance and positioning. By mid ride, I felt pretty confident. There was only one scary moment for me...The bars started to shift on a down hill when I was tucked down tight. This was a bit freaky: I'm pressing down in the tuck and the bars are rolling down on me...eeek! But all was cool after a bit of roadside tightening. (Nothing quite as dramatic as Solo's mid ride gruppo install / hemorrhoidectomy--eyes closed and only a rusty leatherman.)

We only had a shortish chunk of time this morning, so we did some nice flat (sorta fast) pace work for about 22 miles then finished with some hill repeats. I died on the 4th hill repeat. But pushed on for one more. It'll take me a few weeks to build back up after all the illness, I guess. The new and improved (slenderized) Moveitfred was tough. He pressed on for another one after I said "mommy." Now if we can only do something about his riding attire.