On the road again, ready or not

Once upon a time—it feels like a hundred years ago though it's closer to twelve or thirteen—I reached a peak of physical fitness by bicycling to work, about six miles each way, through any weather Chicago threw my way.

Old Glory, ready to roll again. 
Depending on conditions, each morning I'd put on my black Spandex biking shorts, a black-and-yellow nylon shirt and a bright blue helmet, with reflective sunglasses to match, or bundle up in lined pants, jacket and gloves, and take off into the sunshine, rain, snow, sleet or whatever. My friends now wouldn't have recognized me.

Except for getting "doored" one time when someone was getting out of a car, plus couple of spills, I never had an accident. I got a cut on one hand one time and went to the emergency room for some minor patching but the next day I was at it again. Falling off my bike in front of others hurt nothing but my ego. 

My pace ranged from furious through bad weather to day-dreamy and leisurely, sometimes with my hands off the handlebar, when it was sunny and balmy, and racing through the bike paths weaving through Chicago's lakefront parks would have been an unforgivable affront to the gorgeous scenery.

I don't recall what triggered my pedaling frenzy, which lasted about three years, but I think it was more psychological than physical. I wasn't happy at my job and an hour of bicycling before and after work seemed to flush the toxins out of my head.

Now I realize there were great physical benefits too: My stamina gradually increased to the point I barely broke a sweat on my travels plus my weight dropped to maybe one hundred eighty five. One a six-foot-two frame, that made me damn near thin. 

Then came retirement. The bicycle I brought down from Chicago collected dust and lay buried behind other seldom used junk. But during my annual physical in San Antonio a month ago, the doctor broke the news: My blood sugar was elevated and I needed to lose about fifteen pounds through a reduced-carbohydrates diet and exercise. 

So out came the bicycle, dusty and its tires nearly flat, and off I went to pedal again on the paved road near our ranch. My maiden ride was a humiliating debacle. I could hardly ride for a mile without running out of breath and in fact—ouch!—had to walk part of the way home.

Could I be that old, fat and out of shape? Apparently, a resounding yes to all three.

So on a diet plus walking with the dogs for about a half-hour each morning, I've lost three pounds. Stew says he's lost six. I don't believe him.

I've cleaned my old bicycle and intend to get pedaling again. It isn't going to be easy and I'm going to wait for a few weeks before looking for those Spandex biking shorts.

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Comments

  1. Last time I measured, years ago, I was 6'3", and I currently weigh about 170. I like to call myself sleek or svelte. In 1980, I weighed 225. I took it off and kept it off. I'd love to have a bicycle now, but due to peculiarities of the location of my house, it's not practical. Pity.

    "Diets" are lousy idea. Just eat better and get moderate exercise. And keep doing that the rest of your life.

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    1. 6'3" and 170 pounds. That's past svelte, Felipe. It's downright thin. You better double up on the tacos.

      al

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  2. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly . . .

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    Replies
    1. That sounds like the Promises, which always come true if we work for them... Thanks.

      al

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    2. Deborah: I plead guilty to a charge of double-talking when it comes to animals. I really care for them and it turns my stomach to see a truck full of pigs and chickens on the way to the slaughterhouse. Yet they remain on my diet. I admire your commitment to vegetarianism (for whatever reasons, humane or health-related). Stew and I have talked about it but then say, nah, it's too complicated, especially at restaurants. I think in a bigger city like Chicago or San Francisco where you have more options, it would be easier. Any suggestions how you and your spousal unit (like that phrase!) handle it here in San Miguel?

      Thanks. Al

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    3. Al: If one frequents restaurants in Mexico often, being a vegetarian is a tough proposition. It's just not part of the culture, but you know that. If you really want a laugh, order a salad in 99 percent of Mexican restaurants.

      My sister-in-law, years ago, was invited to the home of a Gringo for dinner. The main course was a big salad. She later told my wife that ... all the vegetables were raw! She couldn't wrap her mind around the notion.

      You might consider buying a gym set from Liverpool or Sears. I'm talking about the full ride that has lots of options. I got one about six years back, and I use it regularly. Most people would not, of course, but I do.

      It's a great thing to have, but only if you use it regularly.

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  3. There is absolutely no ailment related to being the correct weight. Hats off to you!

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  4. Ya gotta use it or lose it. I'm slowly getting my old mother back in shape. Today she made another personal best in our walks, managing to have walked a mile with her walker. She's also getting more steady on her feet, and has also lost a few pounds.

    Where you are (out in the country, in Mexico), I'd highly recommend getting into and staying in shape, or you'll have to move some place you don't like eventually.

    Congrats on taking the first step. Or pedal.

    Saludos,

    Kim G
    Redding, CA
    Where we'd also recommend the book, "Eat to Live" by Dr. Fuhrman.

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  5. That's pretty impressive on the part of your mom. I think you'd mentioned that she was overweight, so any exercise and weight loss is welcome. I'll check out the Fuhrman book. Thanks.

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