Back in the saddle again

Just like a clockwork universe envisioned by Voltaire, Jefferson, or Anthony Burgess, after Labor Day the mornings are cool enough to bike to work. It's a great time of year, possibly my "favorite" if I have one. There is still enough light in the evening to do somethings outdoors after work, and the temperature extremes have given way to warm days and cool nights that make Gven and me think about taking our act to San Diego or Melbourne, where it's ALWAYS like this. Is that possible? Or desirable?

Summertime is great, of course, but mornings were too warm to cycle even the four miles from Om Shanty in the leafy suburb to the big glass, concrete, and steel office building by the interstate. If I were serious, disciplined, and had all the Boy Scout virtues I'm supposed to have, early to bed and early to rise blah blah blah, I could have left the house at the crack of dawn when it was still cool and biked in to work all summer.

But I'm not, and I didn't, so fall is the ticket. Now I can ride in a tee-shirt, get a 20-minute workout, and sit down in my cube already caffeinated and oxygenated for a day of sedentary work. Then go home all pumped and aerobicized for whatever the indulgent, pleasure-seeking evening activities happen to be.

Yesterday was the first such ride of fall, and I could tell coming up the hill from Alumni Creek on County Line Road that I wasn't yet conditioned for it. The thighs were slack and the abdominals were abominable. But it already felt better this morning, so it won't be long before I'm in biking shape - if I stay with it.

That's the thing. Heart, lungs, and muscle fibers are unforgiving, as any athlete can tell you. Once or twice a week is not enough, and desire doesn't make it either, when you're halfway through mile five and you've trained for four. They call that "oxygen debt" for good reaon, and when you've exhausted your resources, you're done.

My friend Gorm is running a marathon later this month at a beautiful location up in northern Swing State. I've got to respect anyone my age (actually he's about a month younger) who still chooses to pay his dues all year to be able to keep delivering ATP to muscles for four hours of running. When was the last time I did anything physically demanding for FOUR HOURS? Shudder.

Go Gorm!