For most bicyclists, winter is endured. Sure some of us adapt to the cold and the slippery conditions; others hibernate waiting for the first sign of spring. It seems silly to say this today because as I type this it’s snowing pretty hard here in the DMV. No worries because the first sign of spring is here. Today is the first day of the 2015 Errandonnee.
It’s pretty simple. Over the next 12 days, run 12 errands on your bike. Document them. And send the list in to Mary, Queen of Errands. If you complete the Errandonnee, you can get an Errandonee patch to proudly display.
I’m not much of a patch person, but the idea of the Errandonee is in my wheel house. I run errands on my bike all the time. So here are a few I will likely do:
Ride to work (twice)
Go to the bank
Ride to get lunch or coffee with friends (twice)
I have to come up with seven more. This may not be so easy since I have already used up a couple of errands (drug store, hardware store) in the last few days. I will figure something out.
The point is that now you have a little excuse to get out there on your bike. To ease out of winter and into spring.
I rode in the basement again. It is getting to the point that I read faster while riding than I do sitting still. I was hoping to ride in tomorrow but the Mount Vernon Trail remains icy and treacherous. I know this because I could see bike commuters riding slow and tentative this morning.
Tomorrow it is supposed to be pretty warm, in the 40s all day. It is also supposed to rain all day. In the wee hours of Thursday morning the rain is supposed to turn to snow for the better part of 15 hours. Accumulations are expected to reach as high as 8 inches. What joy.
It’s a really good thing that I don’t drink….much.
Thursday night my daughter is scheduled to fly into BWI so she can renew her driver’s license and go to the dentist. Fingers are crossed.
T. S. Eliot didn’t live in Boston but he kind of nailed it when he wrote: April is the cruelest month. It takes at least a week into April before any semblance of spring arrives. You can tell it is spring because the snow starts to melt and all the frozen dog poo thaws out.
So you can see why I moved to DC. Except in DC March is the cruelest month. We began March this year with one of my favorite meterological events, an ice storm. Here’s the front of my car. The rest of the car looked like a Honda Popsicle. As you might imagine, biking to work was out of the question. Just getting back to the house after retrieving the newspaper this morning would have made Shackleton bust his buttons.
So I drove. The temperatures rose well into the 40s for most of the day. This is what Arlo Guthrie calls “tanning weather in the Berkshires.”
I drove home looking for signs of ice and snow on the Mount Vernon Trail. Sure enough there were enough stretches of nasty stuff that I decided to drive tomorrow. I want to that the National Park Service for its stellar job of promoting cross country skiing in the region by not plowing the trail. The two people who skied on the trail last week must be badass Nords.
Speaking of Nords, Mrs. Rootchopper and I went to see Le Vent du Nord on Saturday night. This is a four-piece folk band from Quebec. They sing in French and sound a bit like the Chieftans by way of Paris. They played in a small venue in Germantown MD. We sat about ten feet from the edge of the stage. I had low expectations since my high school French is now hopelessly lapsed and I can’t understand most of the lyrics to the songs. It didn’t matter. The performance was one of the very best musical events I’ve ever seen. The fiddle player sat directly in front of us. He sang, played awesome fiddle, and kept a frenetic beat with his feet. I swear the man “ran” 10 miles during the two-hour show. The band also features a hurdy gurdy. I’d never seen or heard one before. Long story short, I can’t wait until they come back.
The forecast for the DC area calls for some subfreezing temperatures and rain, snow or sleet off and on through Thursday. Looks like the Honda is going to get some more use.
I thought February was going to be a big bust but it turned into a halfway decent month. I rode to work eight times, the same as January. All my commutes were done in the first half of the month on The Mule because the National Park Servcie steadfastlt refuses to plow or treat the Mount Vernon Trail. Their policy is that it is also for use by cross country skiers. This is bogus because cross country skiers rarely use it and it becomes unski-able once the snowpack turns to ice or starts to melt.
The most eventful thing that happened was my fall on the 10th. Also I was sick twice this month so I have excuses. (Lame.)
Oh well. I also did a 48 1/2 mile ride on Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent. Other than that there was were a couple of long hike/walks including yesterday’s in Arlington Cemetery. And an interesting evening of Thai massage and Reiki.
The total for the month was 439 1/2 miles. 247 was from commuting. 99 miles were done on Big Nellie indoors.
For the year I stand at 812 miles with 16 bike commutes. Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist, has barely been used. Only 18 miles in a single weekend ride so far. The Mule is doing the lion’s share of work, covering 572 1/2 miles so far. Big Nellie is taking up the slack with 131.5 outdoor miles in addition to the 99 miles in my basement.
After the March 1 ice storm and Monday’s doctor’s appointment, I hope to up the mileage a bit. March offers the Pi ride. (On 3.14 there are two rides for pie. This is math humor. I intend to eat some apple pie for a friend who is on a retreat that does not allow pie. Oh the humanity!) The Vasa ride is on 3/15 and I will do my usual 31 miles. I have never done the long ride, prefering to do the more social and less hilly medium length ride. (I will do neither ride if it is icy.)
I began the day with yoga, physical therapy, and pain meditation. Pain meditation is when you try to meditate and all the body parts that you hit with the lacrosse ball and the football (a substitute for a foam roller) were busy screaming at you.
It was in the 20s outside. Too cold for a bike ride (at least for me anyway) so I decided to lace up my hiking boots and head to Great Falls for a hike. Along the way, it occured to me that hiking in mud was not likely to be a whole lot of fun. I have been meaning to go to Arlington Cemetery for a while now (say, 25 years) so I decided to check it out. My first few visits resulted in discovering the graves of several famous people by sheer seredipity so I decided to follow the same strategy.
I began with a visit to the grave of JFK and Mrs. Kennedy and their two babies. On the walk away from these graves I happened upon Bobby’s and Teddy’s graves which are much more modest.
I hiked up the hill and in short order came upon the graves of Abner Doubleday, the apocryphal creator of baseball, and Stephen Vincent Benet, the author of John Brown’s Body, a book length historical poem of the Civil War. Except it was not that Stephen Vincent Benet because the author died in the 1940s.
I trucked around in a great counterclockwise circle hoping to find more famous names but failed miserably. As long as I was away from the perimeter of the cemetery, the only sound I could hear was the sound of my breath and the occassional jet ascending from National Airport. I walked past thousands and thousands of graves. They serve as a reminded sacrifices made by people over 250+ years. They also remind me of the repeated failure of humankind to live in peace with one another.
On the way out of the cemetery, I decided to check out the Women in the Military Memorial. I had heard that my kindergarten teacher, Lili Mai Kelly, was listed on the register. I went inside and checked out the exhibits for a while then turned to the register. Thankfully, it was computerized. I didn’t know her maiden name so I was hoping she was listed under Kelly. And after a few searches, I found her. Totally cool. (Sorry about the blurry picture.) She taught me and at least five of my six siblings. Over the years she became one of my mother’s closest friends. It seems she was in our house every week when I was growing up.
She signed up for the Navy WAVES in her mid-thirties to free up a man for overseas duty. She was stationed in New York City where by chance she met a serviceman while riding horses in Central Park. They married and had two kids who served as babysitters for my family for many years.
Many years later, we named our daughter Lily in her honor. (I had no idea of the spelling of her name until today.)
A couple of days ago I was somewhat concerned that Thai massage, followed by snow shoveling, and a physical therapy session, all withing the space of 17 hours would wreck my body. As it turned out, I made it through the Trifecta of Pain with flying colors.
The Thai massage (with a bit of Reiki at the end), although painful at times, was a very soothing experience. I don’t normally pamper myself like this, but I am glad I gave this a go.
This morning we had three or so inches of wet snow. I pulled out the wovel and went at it. Each time I use this gizmo I am amazed. Snow shoveling is one of the most stressful things you can put your back and heart. Woveling is a piece of cake. It is actually not much harder than mowing the lawn. And it makes quick work of the snow.
Later in the morning I went to my physical therapy appointment. We worked on my balance. To my surprise, after some awkwardness, I did most of the exercises without losing my balance. I don’t know if this gets me anywhere with my numb foot but it helped my ego quiet a bit. The PT folks were curious to hear about the Thai massage. I mentioned the pain I had with my quadriceps and IT band and that became the focus of the session. We used a foam roller to massage both areas. This was incredibly painful, much, much more so than during the massage. Then we tried using a lacrosse ball to work out the tightness in my IT band. This was not as bad.
And so the Trifecta of Pain is over. It was not nearly as painful as I had expected.
I have only had one massage in my life. It came at the suggestion of my friend Paul. We had just completed our first century (100 miles) bike rides as part of the 1991 Bike Virginia event. Paul was about 3 weeks removed from breaking his collar bone (yes, Paul is an idgit) and I was amazed that he had done the whole distance. I suppose you would call what we had a sports massage. It only lasted 20 minutes but it felt so good I laughed my ass off for the entire thing. Despite the experience, I have never had a massage of any sort since.
A few years back (2011, I think), my Argentinian friend Florencia approached me in Meridian Hill Park on a lovely summer day. Stress was strewn across her normally cheerful face. She began to tell me of the oppressive weight of her unhappiness. She had a job, an apartment, tons of friends, more interesting activities than any ten people that I know, but she looked exhausted. “John, I am thinking of quitting my job and going to Thailand.” After a half hour of discussion, I could see that she had thought this through. I don’t know that my approval mattered much, but a short time later she was on a plane for Bangkok.
Her first excursion took her, among many places, to the Thai Massage School of Chiang Mai. Once I started reading of her times there, it became obvious that she had made the right choice. During her subsequent travels that year she also learned Reiki in Mumbai.
Ever since, whenever she was in DC, she has offered to give me a Thai massage and Reiki but I declined. Over the past four years I have had so many orthopedic and neurological issues that the thought of someone pressing into my muscles and nerves was a real turn off.
About a month ago, after spending summer in Argentina, she returned and announced that she would be giving Thai massage “with a Latin touch” and Reiki. (Flor knows marketing too.) With my back feeling better than it has in years and only minor other aches and pains, I signed up for a two-hour session.
I met her at her place and after spending 15 minutes inadequately catching up on each others lives (we’d need 15 hours), she went to work. First, we discussed any physical issues that she should be aware of. After reassuring her that I trusted her (not that she needed to hear it), she began. She put on some soothing music and began by gently massaging my face. It felt wonderful. Then she moved to rest of my head. Nice. Then my neck, firmly stroking in up and down along one line then another. We were in Nigel Hufnagle territory now. (On a scale of 1 to 10, the neck massage was an 11.)
She proceeded to work on my arms begining with each finger, gently but firmly pulling each one. Then she worked her way up each arm in a straight line mostly pressing in discrete spots along the line. Once she reached my shoulder she would go back to my hand and start anew on a different line. Eventually, my upper arms and shoulder blades were pushed this way and that. Each of these manipulations was gentle but firm. It was clear to me that she was carefully looking for signs of discomfort and tightness from me. At this point I was a happy camper. My eyes were closed as I just let her do her thing.
She moved to my feet and things got interesting. The bottoms of my feet are extremely sensitive. She pressed against the lines in the bottoms of my feet along the plantar fascia and OW! (This also happened with my acupuncturist so I wasn’t surprised.) She continued but backed off on the pressure. All was good. Next came my notoriously tight calves. Her manipulations and pressings were a bit uncomfortable but nothing too unpleasant. When she reached my thighs she found my true weakness. Each time she pressed it hurt. She later told me she wasn’t pressing hard at all but after tens of thousands of miles of biking and running my thighs are super tight and sensitive.
Along the way some of her manipulations were done with her feet. She would press her foot against the inside of my thigh and pull on my leg with her arms. It felt wonderful. She did a similar manipulation with her foot on my back and pulling on my arms. Ahhh! (I don’t think I would have realized this was what she was doing had I not watched a few videos. This looked scary in the videos but really felt great.)
Flor Giving a Massage in Thailand. Photo by Flor
She turned me over and massaged my back along my spine, kneading my back in small circles and moving from my head to the base of my spine, one line after the next. This felt great except for some minor discomfort when she was working near my old surgery incision (which I neglected to tell her about).
Next she gently laid her hands on my back and stopped just for a minute. By this time I was so mellowed out I don’t remember what came next. I eventually was lying on my back and her hands were gently placed on my forehead, then face, then chest, then stomach. She later told me that this was Reiki. Feeling her warm hands against my face after the Thai massage felt incredibly calming.
I had absolutely no idea how much time had passed. She said she stopped after 90 minutes. She decided that because of the discomfort in my legs that she would forgo some of the leg work that would take up about 30 minutes time. “Better to do too little than too much.” During the massage and Reiki we spoke hardly at all. “Just relax and meditate.”
Given the fact that my body is a bit of a train wreck, I’d say my first experience with Thai massage and Reiki was a resounding success.
I rarely see my friend Flor in a serious setting such as this. The vast majority of our times together have been at picnics and bike rides, casual events. To be honest, I had misgivings about having a friend in my personal space for as long as two hours. Flor put me completely at ease with her calm, caring, professional demeanor. I would recommend her Thai massage and Reiki to anyone.
After the massage, it was time for goodbyes. Flor is off to India in a few days for yoga training. As always, I will miss her, but I look forward to the next chapter in the life of my friend The Impermanent Resident.
My body does not do change well. When I went snowshoeing the other day, it seemed fine while I was out and about, but my little excursion, only 1 1/2 miles, followed by woveling snow and slush gave me a sore iliotibial band at my left hip. The iliotibial band was invented by Satan to stabilize man’s outer thigh. It starts just above the point of the hip and extends to the tibia just below the knee. When it gets inflamed it is hard to calm and can cause serious pain.
So tonight I go for my first ever Thai massage. In keeping with my style I signed up for a two-hour session. yes, i am an idiot. Sam and Jeff, two #fridaycoffeeclub regulars, had Thai massages from the same therapist earlier this week. Sam loved it. Jeff liked some aspects but not others.
During Thai massage the client remains fully clothed. The massage therapist manipulates body parts and muscles using his/her body and forearms and such. It actually looks quite a lot like some of the manipulations my physical therapist does.
So I fully expect to be a little sore tomorrow. This is just as well because we are expecting snow overnight and I will likely be woveling again during the day. By something of a coincidence, I have a late morning physical therapy appointment.
So by about 1 pm tomorrow, I expect to be sore in places I didn’t know I had. This may make evaluating the Thai massage somewhat problematic. Stay tuned.
After spending riding in the basement this morning, I took a break for lunch and watched the snow fall. I looked on Facebook and saw a picture of my friend Flor wrapped up like Luke Skywalker on Hoth. Unlike Luke she was all in black and snow was clinging to her scarf, hood, and coat. She had a big smile on her face. What? She HATES cold. I figured if she was smiling, it must be pretty nice outside.
So as the snow fell I put on my bike commuting gear which is geared (no pun intended) for temperatures in the ’20s. Instead of my bike shoes, I put on my Goretex hiking boots. And Redfeather snowshoes. I bought the snowshoes after Snowmaggedon a few years ago. Finally, I had a chance to try them out.
At first they felt ungainly. I even fell when I crossed the snowshoes on some uneven terrain. Once I got the drift (sorry) of keeping my feet wider apart I was trudging along in comfort. My feet were at first cold but warmed up and stayed bone dry despite all the powder I was slogging through.
Since this was my first real foray on snowshoes I didn’t want to go too far. During the tumble I tweaked my left hip so that reinforced my sense of caution. I had to cross several plowed driveways which are actually harder to snowshoe on than powder. The snowshoes have metal teeth across the ball of the foot and these work best when they have something to bite into.
On my little trek, I watch a cyclists make his lonesome way along Collingwood Road near my house. He didn’t look like he was having a whole lot of fun.
At one point I tried a small uphill section and to my surprise found it easy as pie. I could really get into this!
After about a mile and a half I took off the snow shoes and broke out my wovel, which I wrote about almost exactly a year ago. There were about 2 inches of powder on the ground and the wovel made easy work of the driveways and sidewalks at my house and the house across the street. I find it fun to use and enjoyed having a reason to stay outside with beautiful flakes falling all about me.
Winter’s not half bad when you go with the Flo(r).
I’ve now logged three straight days of riding in the basement. The meditative calm of the first day has given way to stupefying boredom. This despite the fact that, while riding, I am reading Nick Hornby’s latest novel, Funny Girl, which is every bit as good as his others.
After yesterday evening’s “ride” both my feet went numb. This is a new one on me. I noticed that just before finishing my calves felt like bocce balls. I came upstairs and rolled them on a lacrosse ball, stretched my hamstrings with a belt, and did wall leans until they loosened up. And the numbness was gone.
Today’s spin was preceded my about 45 minutes of yoga mixed with physical therapy exercises, including the three mentioned above. I had no numbness at all in my feet. So after nearly four months I think I have this foot numbness thing finally figured out. I only wish I could make it go completely away. At least I have discovered some exercises that make my lower back pain free in the bargain.
Right now it’s snowing outside. From the looks of things we should get a couple of inches before it turns into an icy mess. Lucky for me, I bought tickets to a concert this evening in DC (a Christmas present for Mrs. Rootchopper) .So it should be an interesting night. (As I wrote the previous sentence the phone rang. It was Ticketmaster letting me know that the show will go on as scheduled.)
The rest of the car looked like a Honda Popsicle. As you might imagine, biking to work was out of the question. Just getting back to the house after retrieving the newspaper this morning would have made Shackleton bust his buttons.
A Few Spokes Shy of a Wheel 