Oh, and 20

We finished packing tonight for the trip. That means we loaded everything into our suitcases, measured them to make sure we are within the physical size requirements of the airlines (62 linear inches, BTW) and then had to weigh them. The big bags have to be under 50 lbs. each.

How do you weigh a suitcase? I tried to just put the suitcase on the scale. When I did, however, I couldn't read the number. So I had to do it the other way.

You know. The one where you weigh yourself first and then weigh yourself holding the suitcase and do the math.

Urgh.

My new number to think about is 20. I'm up 20 pounds from my previous normal weight.

And that sucks.

Truth? I feel it. I feel all of it. I feel it in my thighs. In my stomach. In the tightness of my clothes. In the self-consciousness of my shirt tugging.

In my boobs. (That might be the only "good" thing.)

I also feel defeated.

I no longer feel invincible. I no longer feel strong, in control and confident.

It's time to get real. Be honest. Walk the walk. Stop acting like exercise allows me to eat whatever I want, whenever I want.

I have to live the life that gets me the life I want.

Does that make sense? It's up to me.

69, 120, 300, 365ish

I've got a few important numbers to talk about.

69: In 69 hours, our ship will leave the port in Vancouver and head to Whittier, Alaska. We have our suitcases started ... the clothes are all in. Nothing but grubby underwear and non-Alaska-bound outfits for work this week. Have to run to town tomorrow night to get a few last-minute things, pack the electronics and snacks and weigh everything to make sure we're in compliance.

120: I put 120 miles on my bike last week by starting with the Trek outing. And that's a week that had two days off ... no riding on Sunday (rest day) and Wednesday (rain). I was feeling pretty good about that ... cocky even, until I heard about ...

300: That's the number of miles my cousin will cover on her bike in July during a SIX-DAY tour. She and a friend will be rolling through the north woods for 50 miles a day, six days in a row, camping each night. Holy crap! Three-hundred miles sounds almost impossible to me. And it kicks 120 in a week in the ass! I am so impressed by her! And so intrigued. So I went online last night and found a couple of similar rides, mentioned them to my girl today at our Father's Day lunch and she said she would do it with me next year! I am so excited I can hardly stand it!

365ish: Depending on which ride we pick (there are a couple in the north woods and I found one that does the coastline of Door County), I have 365ish days to train. What a great way to spend a week with your kid, right? A week of just us, hanging out, complaining about our sore butts, picking on Jim when he's not there to defend himself ... making memories. When your kid has to split time between two sets of parents, you sort of automatically only see them half as much for holidays, birthdays, and other big events. Then your kid grows up and has a job and school and a life, it's harder still to get as much time as you want one-on-one. This will be such a great thing for us and I truly cannot wait. I'm holding you to this one, Kati!

Got a number you want to share?

The Vacation Plan

Jim and I are less than a week away from the biggest vacation we've ever taken.

We're heading to Alaska for two weeks of adventure. (I'm telling you this because I trust you to not break into my house while I'm gone. The alarm will be activated and the neighbors have guns ... just sayin'.)

We'll do a week on a cruise from Vancouver to Alaska, with stops in Ketchikan, Skagway, Juneau, Glacier Bay, College Fjord. We get off the boat in Whittier and travel by train to Mount McKinley for a couple days and then move to Denali National Park for a couple more before winding up in Fairbanks.

I'm terrified of being contained in a floating all-day buffet. I'm concerned that one of the best ways to explore new surroundings is to eat your way through the experience. I'm struggling enough right now with eating too much as it is and, simply put, vacation presents a challenge.

You may remember my first vacation in my new body. (See the posts from February 2011 ... like this one: http://carsickcaravan.blogspot.com/2011/02/igualito-tito.html) I was pleasantly surprised that I could maintain my new weight by making sure I got a workout in each day and by eating mindfully. It worked. I didn't gain anything.

I've since gotten pretty lax on my eating. I actually exercise more now than I did then (farther, faster). But I still worry.

So as a countermeasure, I have booked a bunch of high activity excursions. These are things designed to keep us moving and burning calories so we CAN eat our way through Alaska.

We're going to sea kayak. And bike ride. Pan for gold. Take a helicopter to a glacier. We're going to ride horses and ATVs. Plus, the ship and both resorts have exercise facilities.

I sure hope it's enough. I'm also happy smoked salmon is good for me.

Willing to bet we'll hit lots of cloudy days and not so many
bright sunny ones like this, but I'm going to hold out hope. 

The Best Rest Stop Ever

"This is the one ride that you can actually gain weight on," said Jon McGlocklin, as we lined up at the start line of the Trek 100 on Saturday morning.

And, boy, was he right!

But he failed to mention that the rest stops would be more than just food!

So, as I mentioned yesterday, JC and I skipped the first stop around Mile 9 or 10. Per my expert tour guide, it was the busiest and biggest stop on the ride which can be fun, but also congested. We chose, instead, to stop at Mile 20. By then we were both starving.

Picture this:

A lovely, quiet country road. Out of the countryside springs up a storybook cream brick two-story farmhouse with freshly painted white trim. And a porch. And a tree lined driveway with red barns and outbuildings in the back. Every single thing is perfect and well-manicured. There's a cow pasture on the left side of the driveway.

The cows were glowing. Well, they probably weren't. But in my Trek-drunk memory, they glow. In fact, I'm pretty sure they all looked like this:

Awwwwwwwww!

As we turned up the gravel drive, we could see the tents. They were right behind an enormous oak tree that looked like this: 

Can you hear the harp music? It was like heaven!

A nice man greeted all riders as they came in and dropped their bikes under the big shade tree. "Healthy snacks ahead on the right. Water, Gatorade behind that," he said, pointing to tables heavy with bananas, quartered oranges, energy bars, individual snack packs of nuts and chocolate chip cookies ... all the normal suspects. 

It looked like this: 

The big tree I spoke of is to the right of the striped tent. I ate 1.5 oranges and
swiped an energy bar to put in my bike jersey pocket for later. 

Our tour guide continued. "There's burritos over here," he said. "Beef, bean and chicken. The cows respectfully request you eat the chicken." That's right. You heard me. They had burritos. At the rest stop. Lots of 'em! 

That's JC in the center. The burritos were flippin' delicious ... we split a
chicken version. Yum! Thank you Fiesta Cancun in Oconomowoc. 

And then I hear it. 

It's a band. A live band, under yet another tent. Playing some kind of music that I can't actually identify, but I know all the coolest college kids listen to when they sit in cafes, coffee bars, brew pubs and indie venues.  

They even had a bongo drum.  Like I said, cool.

Utopia, right? Food, music, shade. I could have stayed all day and had a great time. It just could not have been more perfect. 

Or could it? 

We finally decided it was time to hit the road. I told JC I was going to use the porta potty before we pulled out. I made the walk back to the big, blue, plastic box, took a deep breath as I always do when I enter one of those things. My goal is to hold my breath the entire time, to involve as few of my senses in the experience as possible and ...

I noticed that both toilet paper rolls still had their outside wrappers on. 

I was the FIRST PERSON to use that unit!

  

Life just doesn't get any better than that. I smiled as I exited. Sad to be leaving this beautiful spot, but happy to be back on my bike and ready to finish the ride. 

Trek 100 Tribute

(Warning: I think I am falling in love with my bike ... again. And this euphoria may be affecting my general outlook.)

The Trek 100 is an epic bike ride.

The only thing I don't like about it is that it's over. Well, that, and the fact that it won't happen again for another year, which means I have a whole year to wait.

I hate waiting.

Let me set the scene: Trek HQ in little Waterloo, WI, an employee parking lot filled to the brim with volunteers, people on bikes and tents of all shapes and sizes. On the docket for the day, four rides: 100 miles, 100 meters (62 miles), 36 miles and 19 miles. The longest two had a start time of 7:30 a.m., with the second two kicking off at 9:30 a.m.

I arrived at 8 a.m. to on-site register. The deal is you have to pay your entrance fee ($55) and raise a minimum of $2/mile for whatever race you are going to do. (This is a fundraiser for the MACC Fund and next year I promise to do a better job of raising more.)

JC hard at work. 

My Lexa S bike got a quick tune-up from my brother-in-law and Trek employee Juan Carlos and his friends in the on-site bike mechanic tent. They determined that I should probably get a new shifter and cables in the next few weeks, and offered me a demo bike to ride for the day if I wanted one. I didn't. Dance with the one that brung ya, you know.

We lined up and the volunteers split us into waves. Former Milwaukee Bucks player and MACC Fund leader Jon McGlocklin got the event started with Bucky Badger. He talked about the hundreds of millions of dollars that the 25-year event has raised and introduced a rider in the crowd who had ridden all 25 years. I shed more than a few tears as a mom who lost a child to cancer spoke about what the MACC Fund had done for her family. I shed a few more when two teens, cancer survivors, told their stories.

Then the UW Band played as each wave rolled out.

There were bikes and riders of all shapes and sizes. Young and old (87!). Fit and not. Some decked out in serious bike gear. Some out for a leisurely Sunday roll.

The little girl on the right enjoyed the ride on a pull-behind. I also saw many
bike trailers with one or two kids inside. Number 2172 brought his dog. 

The ride itself was hilly and challenging enough. We rode out of Waterloo, around part of Rock Lake and into Lake Mills. We wound around on Highways 89 and S, back around the lake again, then back to Waterloo.

We rode for a while with the guy who had ridden in all 25 rides. He was 82 or 83 ... I can't remember now what he said. "I think I might be addicted," he said and smiled. "Maybe you ought to give it a couple more years to know for sure," I grinned back.

JC and I skipped the first rest station at about Mile 9. We stopped at the second one, at Mile 20. It was spectacular. I'll tell you about that tomorrow. There was another at mile 32-ish, but we didn't stop there either.

As we rounded the final stretch, volunteers lined the finish line chute, waving pompons and cowbells. Some of the 100-milers who left 2 hours before us were finishing at the same time. We'd been on the course for about 2.5 hours, which means we probably averaged 14 mph ... and they were averaging more than 22 mph. For 4.5 freaking hours!

Truthfully, I think my legs could have gone another 10 miles (if I was being chased by zombies or something), but my butt and my shoulders had had enough.

The party afterward was worth the price of admission. A huge food tent with pulled pork, chicken and a dozen other things. Capital Brewery had a tent with free beer, Starbucks and Pepsi were there. Two massage schools were representing with big tents of their own, rubbing out your sore spots. There were merch tents, bike tents, freebie tents.

Lots of tents. Music pumping. Cleats clicking. People smiling.

The whole day was so organized, so well run, so smooth. The course was fantastic, the volunteers were plentiful and helpful. The party was awesome.

I'm totally going back next year.

And I think I might ride my bike to work every day this week in preparation. Never too early to start.

You know you're in Wisconsin when the Sausages show up. 

Tomorrow We Ride ... 36 Miles

Tomorrow is the first official bike ride of the year. It's the Trek 100 http://www.trek100.org/ in Waterloo, Trek's HQ.

I'm riding with my brother-in-law and Trek employee, Juan Carlos. We had the option of 19-, 36-, 62- or 100-mile routes. Thankfully, he chose the 36-miler.

I'm pretty sure I'm not ready for anything more. In fact, I'm not sure I'm ready for 36. The 8 miles into work and 8 miles home, two times a week, is not actually "training." It's better than nothing, but it's not a sustained 16 ... which is HALF of 32.

Math. Gotta love math.

I'm going to finish. I want the jersey.

P.S. The ride is a fundraiser for the MACC Fund (Midwest Athletes Against Childhood Cancer. If you'd like to donate, there are forms on the website to do just that.

11 Tips for Summer Workout Safety

Well, I think it's safe to say that spring has officially sprung. Finally. Honestly, did you wonder if it would ever come?

I know I wasn't sure.

Now that it's here, I am amazed at how many people are out and about. It's almost like we were caged up indoors and just waiting to get out.

Oh wait ... we were.

But I'm noticing something else, too. People must be so drunk on fresh air and sunshine that they've completely forgotten how to behave in the great outdoors. In fact, I find myself yelling at them from my car  in an effort to save them from themselves. 

I know it feels good to be "free" again. But please don't forget that you have to think about what you're doing, where you're going and how you get there!

11 Tips for Summer Workout Safety
1. Walk and run AGAINST traffic. You want to see the cars coming at you,  not have them sneak up behind you. There's a group of high school kids that walk in my neighborhood three wide that drives me bananas. And I see runners on the road in a bike lane, moving with traffic. Think you can hear a car coming? You're crazy. You can't hear them coming with any reliability. Think they'll get over when they see you? Ba ha ha ha ha! 

2. Bike WITH traffic and follow the rules of the road. Stop at stop signs. Use your hand signals. Move to the middle at intersections so cars know you're intentions. Don't make them guess ... because they'll guess wrong and hit you. 

3. Make yourself SEEN. Wear fluorescent colors ... and something that flaps a little in the breeze. If I run early in the morning, I start with a long-sleeve fluorescent shirt. As I warm up, I take it off and tie it around my waist. When I ride in on my bike in the morning, I need the long sleeves on. On the way home in the afternoon, I tie it around my waist instead of tucking it in my backpack ... so there's something bright -- and moving -- to catch someone's eye. Avoid dawn and dusk. Use reflectors and lights. Be smart! 

4. Carry your phone, ID and pepper spray. Goodness willing, you never need any of it. But better to have it and not need it than vice versa. On the bike, there's your helmet, of course, and I also carry $5 and a Kleenex. Just in case. 

5. Don't go anywhere without water. Even for a short 3-mile jog. 

6. Let someone know where you are going, when you leave and when you expect to be home. Better yet, put one of those apps on your phone that allows your significant other to track your whereabouts. Sound a little paranoid? Maybe. 

7. Ride/run/walk single file on the roadway. To those of you all decked out in spandex bikewear and those long pointy helmets as if this is the Tour who ride three abreast on country roads as if you own them ... get over yourself and don't give cars a reason to hate us all. The best way to be treated with respect is to follow the rules of the road. 

8. Lead by example when you're in a car. See that bike or runner? SLOW DOWN and give them plenty of room. Show other drivers what the right way to behave is. Maybe, just maybe, they'll make a note of it and give you or someone else the same treatment when roles are reversed. 

9. Thank those drivers, walkers, runners, riders who do right by you. I always give a wave and a nod to the drivers who give me a lot of space when I'm running. I nod and say "Thank you" to the guy who makes his pitbull sit as I ride my bike past on the bike trail. I loudly and clearly say, "On your left," as I approach walkers on the trails because I don't want to startle anyone. We're all in this together and a little nice goes a long way. 

10. Wear sunscreen. 

11. Always give cars the right-of-way, even when they're wrong. In the end, they win.