New Year's Thoughts

Well, it's mid-January, so the new year isn't quite so new, the holidays are long past, decorations stored, kids back at college, and we're pretty much settling in for the wait until spring.  There were lots of things on my mind as the calendar changed, though, so I thought I'd share them with you.

I noticed around November that the usual spate of "hey, the new year is approaching and you need to get in shape" ads seemed to start really early this time around.  Usually they don't really start hitting the airwaves until almost Christmas, because let's face it: admitting that you want to change yourself and get in shape and such is a bad idea before Christmas, and it wouldn't surprise me if there was some food advertising lobby that said to the fitness advertising lobby, "hey, back off, let 'em get fat.  You can have them after Christmas."  After all, the two sides can't peacefully co-exist, really, can they?

But this year it seemed like Weight Watchers, Nordic Trac, and all the other health ads were in full swing by Thanksgiving.  Please realize that I'm not a huge fan of the new year's resolution (that feels like it should be capitalized, doesn't it??), because it's too easy to blow it early and then figure you've messed up the entire year.  And I remember being at Weight Watchers meetings in January and hating them - really big crowds of people!  Sometimes it was like I was thinking, "hey, new people should have their own time; this is for the folks who have been here.  Most of you will quit in a month, anyway!"  And sadly that was true: I did think along those lines, and they did quit in a month.  So why shouldn't those ads be going as early as they were?  Maybe people should start on November 17 because it's November 17.

This idea even came up at the Christmas Eve service at our church this year!  Apparently overheard in a supermarket checkout line was a statement (hopefully not from someone from my church!) along the lines of "oh, it's Christmas Eve.  All the visitors will be at church tonight, and I can't stand that."  REALLY???  As disciples of Christ, committed to the idea of spreading the gospel to all corners of the Earth, you don't want visitors in church celebrating Christ's birth???  Wow.  Who would say that?

My friend Jessica has some thoughts on this subject, and since A) she had already written her blog, and B) it's better than the one you're currently reading, I figured C) why reinvent the wheel?  So I give you, dear readers, a post from "Run, Brinksy, Run," the musings of friend and former colleague Jessica Brinks.  The following words belong to her, and she has graciously allowed me to re-post them here:

New Year, New Me...

12/31/2014

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So you've probably seen this meme floating around on the internet the past few days... I will admit that I love a good meme and so I chuckled the first time I saw it.  And then I saw it again... And again...  And then a few more times. And now it's my turn to call bullshit. Because since when have we decided that ridiculing people for trying to better themselves is a good idea?

People like to complain that all the "resolutioners" come in and crowd the gyms, complaining about the inconvenience all the extra people are and praying for the day that they all quit so that they can "have the gym back to themselves."

Ouch.  I hope I'm never one of those people who sets a goal for themselves and has people actively wishing for the day I give up on my goals.

I will admit, yes, that overcrowding in the gym is obnoxious.  And I've been there, frustrated by the masses of people and irritated by the lack of available weights or treadmills.  I've had the thought cross my mind that if I just wait it out, things will get better.  This year though, I'm going to look at it differently. 

These people are there because they want to be better.  And who am I to knock them down from trying to achieve their goals?  I believe it was the great Rocky Balboa who once said...

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Every champion was once a contender who refused to give up.

There isn't a single one of us who dropped out of the womb and ran a marathon.  Who was able to bench press the bodyweight of a human immediately upon birth.  Who was delivered by a stork, wearing a pair of running shoes and saying "Let's do this!"  We all had to start at the beginning once.  For some of us, it wasn't even that long ago.  I may have been "athletic" my whole life, but I never started running (on a semi-serious basis) until a few years ago.  I remember all too well the struggle of trying to make it half a mile without dying.  Of thinking that a 5k was an impossible distance.  So to those who are willing to take on this adventure of becoming a more fit, healthier, happier human being?  I applaud you.

Too many people complain about busy gyms in one sentence and then turn around and in the next wax poetic on the sad state of affairs of the health of our nation.  Of climbing obesity rates and unhealthy habits.  And yet, when we as a country resolve to do better, we get ridiculed and mocked for our public declarations. 

For those who cry out that there's no need to wait until a specific date to start your new resolutions?

Ok, you're right.  You don't have to wait.  But what's wrong with wanting to start with a "clean slate?"  What's wrong with picking a starting point and planning to move forward from there?

Veyr few things in life happen without planning and forethought and picking a date, however arbitrary, helps people prepare not only physically, but mentally as well.  You find me a road race that says "Just start somewhere on this street and finish whenever..." and I'll show you the worst organized event in the history of running.  EVERY JOURNEY MUST HAVE A BEGINING.  And who am I to judge what day that begining should occur on.

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This year, I will make my own resolutions. Some of them will be the same as last year, because, for a variety of reasons (READ: excuses, but that's just me judging me) I did not make all of my goals for 2014. But that's the great thing about resolutions. No one says they have to change. There is nothing wrong with starting over, setting your sights on a goal, and working to achieve it. I hope all of you "resolutioners" out there are successful in 2015.  Take this opportunity to prove all the haters wrong and that setting goals and doing what you need to do to achieve those goals is admirable.  And may we all be supportive of each other in our journeys this year.  There's enough Negative Nancy's out there.  We got this.

Thanks, Jessica!  Meanwhile, I am off to the doc tomorrow for the annual physical.  Look to this space in the near future for the results!  Have a great week!

It's Really Been TWO YEARS??

Wow.  Two years.  The idea that I began a journey to a healthier self began two years ago is somewhat mind-boggling...  And what a journey it's been: ups, downs, a couple of sideways, and numbers that keep making me basically happy with the way things are going.  (The month of December has been a little rough because I kinda sorta haven't been very disciplined and have found a few pounds that previously left me, but I'll be OK.)

Thinking back to December of 2012 - I was 35 pounds heavier, my blood pressure was under medicated control, and my other health numbers looked like they belonged to someone unhealthy, unfit, and headed for disaster of some sort.  Which was all true.  How does a guy my height manage to get up to 226 pounds?  

And while the numbers are all considerably better, I am not yet satisfied or done with the process.  There are still too many things body-wise that need to be made healthier even though they are much better.  There are too many physical condition things that, though greatly improved, can improve further.

I was on the MTB trail with a student a couple months ago; we were riding down one path while his parents were on another.  At one point, since he knew he was kicking my fat@$$, he asked if he should slow down.  I said I was hanging in there, and that it gave me something to work for.  I kind of like chasing other people down.  It gives me a goal.  Our discussion followed up in a few minutes with the idea that I always like to have people ahead of me so I don't get complacent.  There are lots of people in my life like that, whether they be colleagues at school, other riders, other folks on their health quest, and even my wife, who has lost 45 pounds in the last 14 months.  All of them keep me moving toward something better that I can attain.  Call it inspiration if you want to, I guess.  But seeing someone ahead of me makes me give chase sometimes.

Let's do the "bad news first, then the good news" thing now.  The month of December, dear friends, saw a return to too many old habits, and the ease with which I slunk into them kind of scared me.  I managed to find about six pounds, which were added to about three others that crept back in over November.  

Why and how did this happen?  Oh, lots of reasons...  That whole holiday celebration thing for one.  And the whole flippin' month is a holiday, really, isn't it?  A couple road trips to places where I ate out, plenty of alcohol over the last six weeks (those are not "good" calories...), and several meals out here in town with friends and former students.  I tried to keep it at least vegetarian, but will admit to a few meals that included meat.  Not that lean, happy chicken stuff, either.  Nope.  I did keep it to only one giant disgusting burger, but there were a couple breakfast outings with folks that set me back.  

But I will not be discouraged except with my behavior.  It's very easy to see where things went wrong, so it will be easy to set them right as well.

This time the elevation in the scale numbers was noticeable.  Usually I can say I'm still feeling great, and a couple pounds here and there are no big deal.  Oddly enough, though, there was a morning bike ride with a friend right before Christmas in which I ended up doing only one lap at a fairly easy trail.  "Sorry, man, I'm just not feeling it right now."  He went on to do a second lap, and my poorly-fueled body went home.  It's all about the fuel, people.  Treat your body well and it will pay you back.  Same goes for treating it badly!

OK, lets get to the good news half of this!  Can't be all feeling sorry for myself all the time, right?  Have to point out how great things are going, too.  And there have been a few:

I went back to TB's Gym a couple weeks ago.  It had been at least six months, because I certainly hadn't gone since my crash, but I'm pretty sure I hadn't gone at all in 2014 until mid-December!  I used to be quite diligent about going three days per week with the guys, but the last couple years have seen a decline in my desire for strength training as well as a required Monday after-school meeting from 3-4 p.m.  And since Fridays are quite busy in the fall, it has been easy to do the "yeah, it's too hard for me to get there at the right day and time" stuff.  Which is a total cop-out.  Well, maybe not total, but pretty close.

So I decided to experiment with lifting again.  I wasn't sure about how my shoulder would feel, and of course I took it easy since I hadn't been out in a while.  So far, so good is what I can say at this point.  I have been easing back in to things, and have only found a couple of exercises that my broken area absolutely will not tolerate.  As I've said before, there's a group of people that lift together, and it always helps the motivation level to work out with someone else.

I also managed, in spite of missing most of June and July on the road, to exceed my 2013 bike mileage.  The 2015 tally came in at 2266 miles, ridden on the road, trail, beach, snow, etc. on four different bikes.  And due to my inability to just accept something for what it is and think it's all good, I have been thinking about how many more miles I'd have had if I hadn't wrecked my two highest mileage months - I usually get about 400-500 miles in each of them, so there's a thousand miles I missed!  Ah, well, water under the bridge, I believe is how the saying goes.

I received my 24-Hour Challenge entry on New Year's Eve.  Not going to miss that event this year (unless it's for completely awful weather...), and started on the indoor trainer yesterday to begin my preparations.  Coach Troy and Spinervals returns for another winter!!  There will also be plenty of fat bike riding, I hope, because that gets me some fresh air and uses some different riding muscles.  

Let's see, what else was good?  I entered and completed my first official race with Iceman 2014, but you knew that because you read about it.  I turned 50 but have no idea if I am supposed to feel older or younger or whatever than I actually feel right now.  I managed two rides with the Hot group on the Tuesday night shop ride.  That sort of thing.  Overall I'd give 2014 a pretty good rating.

The future at this point?  I have another physical coming up in a few weeks, so we will see how the numbers compare to last year.  I'll be detoxing again soon.  I'm planning on a spring MTB race, the Barry Roubaix, which has historically been on a weekend I always have a school thing; this year I don't, so I will probably enter.

All in all things are good.  I don't have any resolutions for the new year because I really don't believe in them.  My goal is to get back on track right now and continue down the road to good health.  Here's to another great year!

The Best Dog Ever

Today we said goodbye to a longtime member of our family; Fergus was nearly 14 years old.  I do not exaggerate when I say he was a family member, as Nathan and Erin literally grew up with him.  They were about 7 and 5 when he came to live with us in the spring of 2001, and Nathan recently turned 21.  Though this post may seem a departure from my usual health and fitness stuff, A) I don't really care, and B) there are plenty of studies showing the health benefits of having a pet.

Fergus was one of ten puppies from the mating of sire Duncan's Duck Darling (Duncan) and Belle.  Registered with the AKC as "Belle's Irishman Fergus," we brought him home right around Tulip Time.  

He was born on St. Patrick's Day, so the "requirement" was an Irish name.  We struggled and argued over the name for the week before we brought him home, even consulting our still-owned baby name book (which was used for the last time in this case...) before we came up with a name we could all agree on.  "Fergus" was a fitting name for the roly-poly black Labrador puppy, and the fun and excitement of raising a dog began in earnest.  Potty training, obedience, etc. were duties shared among the four of us, and he learned pretty quickly.

We were always pretty sure we knew where Fergus saw himself in the pack that was our family.  I was clearly the Alpha male,

with Dana a close second in the hierarchy.  He seemed to struggle with where he and Nathan fit in exactly, but Erin was always his best buddy and we were certain he thought himself a notch above her.  Until one day when she was in maybe eighth grade and she used the voice that we are all blessed with when she wanted him out of the kitchen.  I swear his face fell a mile when he realized he was at the bottom...  But he was a happy dog and content to be wherever the family was at all times.

We told ourselves we wouldn't let him on the furniture.  OK, but not the bed.  OK, at least not....  Oh, never mind.  We did stick to crate training and keeping him from virtually all "people food," and

he always got glowing reports from Dr. Heitman regarding his health and weight.

Sometimes you read stories about heroic dogs, or ones who know instinctively to bark to warn against strangers.  Not Fergus.  He'd have let anyone in the house, and he was quite simply a happy-go-lucky, dorky dog with maybe two exceptions.  Anyone who has known us or Fergus for any length of time already knows these, and my kids are rolling their eyes right now, because apparently I tell some stories more than once...

The first of these came early in his life, and was absolutely adorable.  Erin was maybe six years old, and she wanted to take the dog for a walk all by herself.  We usually didn't just let her wander off by herself, thank you very much, so we didn't really know what to think.  But hey, what's one time around our pretty short block, right?  What could happen?  (I'll tell you what could happen: she could be dragged along the sidewalk helplessly clinging to the

leash while Fergus ran amok...)  "OK, just let me get him to the sidewalk for you," because he was still pretty rambunctious when it came to walking.  We could definitely avoid her getting pulled down the stairs if nothing else, right?

Fergus was his usual crazy self when I got the leash.  He always loved going for walks, even from a very young age.  My misgivings were not eased at all as he ran out the front door and practically dove down the steps.  I got him to sit and relax for a minute (barely) so I could make sure Erin knew what to do.  Still not knowing what the end result would be, I gave her the leash and she said, "come on, Fergus, let's go for a walk."

And he did.  Simply got up from his seated position and toddled right alongside the small six-year-old girl, happily walking by her side all the way down the block as though he did this all the time.  We watched in amazement as they made it to the end of the block and turned the corner.  After a few minutes Nathan and I thought it would be a good idea to head the other way around just to see how it was going.  It was still going great!  Until Fergus saw us...  They were maybe a half-block away when he bolted to greet us, easily yanking the leash out of Erin's hands.  She was so mad!  At me...  Thus began their lifelong friendship, with Erin frequently tweeting about "The Fergs" and his antics over the last couple years.

The other time involved beer brewing and a total stranger...  I had just acquired my giant new brewing system, shipped all the way from California, and was trying a new batch.  Fergus was probably around five or so.

Since I still didn't have the process mastered with the new system, Erin was on hand to assist as needed (I know, brewing beer with my 10-year-old daughter...).  Getting the grain into the highest kettle was going to be a two-handed process.  She held the bag of grain while I scooped it into the hot water.

We were in that position, me on a step stool, her holding a 20 pound sack of barley, when we saw a small child walking slowly up the driveway toward the back yard.  Both of us stopped to watch - we'd never seen this kid before.  The strangest thing happened: Fergus, usually ecstatic to see virtually anyone and eager to plaster them with sloppy kisses, saw the kid, too.  And he sat down.  Right in the grass, perfectly still.  We all watched as the young boy jumped the fence, Fergus still sitting quietly.  

The brewing was forgotten as we stared dumbfounded as this maybe six-year-old kid walked right in the back door as if he never saw us!  Fergus was still watching.  Erin and I did the classic double take back and forth, completely unsure of how to proceed, when we saw a very distressed-looking teenage boy walking down the sidewalk in front of our house.  Putting two and two together we said something to him; relief flooded the poor kid's face and he hustled to the gate.

Dana, meanwhile, was in the house reading the paper.  Being a basically chill person most of the time, she didn't think it terribly odd that a small child had just wandered into the house, but she was definitely intrigued!  I sent the teenager into the house after the boy, who had, as I recall, made his way upstairs.

As it turns out, Vincent was autistic and our house was on his list of favorite things somehow.  The teen boy was a new babysitter, and hadn't been paying close attention for a couple minutes, and Vincent wandered off.  Vincent's mom showed up, flagged down by me as she slowly drove down the street (had to be related to the situation, I figured...).  She apologized profusely, and made Vincent apologize, too, for being rude and walking into the house.  (For the record, none of us were bothered by the idea; the little guy just wanted to see our house!  "No apology necessary," I think I said to his mom.)

How did Fergus know?  What special dog sense did he possess to not even approach this little boy?  He loved kids.  OK, he loved everybody.  But he somehow knew that this boy was different.  He kept his distance, didn't jump, didn't lick, didn't do anything he usually did.  Just sat and watched.

We've been asked if we are getting another dog, and the answer for a while will be "no."  Why?  Well, there will be the convenience factor of not having to get a dog-sitter any time we leave for the weekend and that sort of thing.  But honestly?  We had the perfect dog for almost 14 years.  We can't possibly do any better, and probably can't do that well with any other dog.  

We'll miss you, old friend.  Tomorrow morning's wake-up routine will be different.  We will miss the happy, laughing face greeting us at the top of the back steps when we come home.  We'll miss your weird ability to tell time - how on Earth could you tell when it was 6:00 p.m. and time for dinner?  (He could do noon lunch, too...)  The morning snuggles, evening snuggles, and all of the snuggles in between as you plopped yourself into our laps on the couch.  

So goodbye, faithful one.  We will remember you forever.

What Did YOU do for YourSELF this Weekend?

This post goes out mostly to my colleagues on the Facebook band directors' group, affectionately known as "The BDG."  I think it may be relevant to all of my teacher colleagues, and even mere mortals may find its content beneficial, so you're all welcome to read it.  I am hoping that on the BDG, at least, it will cause some (hopefully healthy and constructive) discussion.

Last month I rode in a mountain bike race.  For those who don't know me, this was no big deal - I'm no superstar; more of a "hey, that sounds like fun, and they let anyone do it" kind of weekend warrior on the bike.  If you're interested, you can read that post here. There's something about being on the bike for nearly four hours that can either clear my mind and make me forget about a lot of things, or let my mind wander in order to get through the ride.  Kind of along the lines of taking my mind off the pain and suffering, you know?

One of the things I got to thinking about as I had a remarkably enjoyable weekend was the fact that I was away from school.  And on Friday night I wasn't just away from school, I was away from a football game.  Yep, the team went deep into the playoffs again this season (the following week we won the quarter-final game, with the band marching in boots and hats surrounded by eight inches of snow on a freshly-shoveled field), and we had a home game and the band wasn't there.  
    *This wasn't because I was heading to a bike race; it was due to the fall theater production of "A Tale of Two Cities" happening in the auditorium.  Playoffs and the fall play frequently run into each other; this year the director asked if we would skip the band playing on Friday so he wouldn't have to deal with all of the extra hassle, and I agreed.  So no commentary on my slacker attitude and not supporting the team, please.  But indeed I was NOT at school, not reading email, not watching playing tests, or anything to do with my job.  AND I FELT GREAT.

During the race, as usually happens when I ride, snatches of band music would play through the jukebox in my head.  We're working on Overture to Candide with the Wind Ensemble, so that was there, but more apropos to the MTB riding were phrases from Hazo's Ride, which we did last spring with the Symphonic Band.  I say this because I'm proud of my kids and proud of the program, and yes, I can even say that I am proud of my teaching.  I do some pretty good stuff with and for students, from band to mountain bike club to having several kids in on a day off to learn how to re-wrap keyboard mallets. It is also, as you might have figured out, to show the level of playing we do, which may come into play as you continue to read.

For some reason I also started thinking about several posts I've read on the BDG (hey, I was on the bike for almost four hours...).  And the thrust of those thoughts went along the lines of what I personally do to make sure I can still do this job after three decades.

I offer these thoughts as something that works for me.  I'm writing this to the folks who wonder what they can do because they find themselves at school for 12-14 hours a day every week and are counting the days until they check out.  So here's what I do.

• I don't answer email on the weekends.  As a matter of fact I tell my parents and students that I don't read email after I get home at night, whether that be at 2:15 (I have a zero hour at 6:30) or 8:15 p.m.  TURN OFF SCHOOL at some point during your day.  When I started teaching we didn't even have email.  Hell, I didn't have a computer until my second year in 1988 (aaahhh, the Apple IIe with the famed dual disc drive...  the memories...).  We used to get messages from people on those little pink "while you were out" pages from the school secretary.  We weren't sitting at school at 8 p.m. waiting for the phone to ring, so why should we constantly check email?  It can wait.
• Same goes for voicemail, though this one is slightly different.  About 15 years ago I returned to my office on Friday for a game.  The message light was blinking on my phone, so I checked it.  "Hey, Keith, Mike here.  Say, there's a parent concern we need to talk about on Monday, so plan to be in my office by 3:30, please."  From the assistant superintendent.  After school on Friday.  WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE THIS MESSAGE WHEN YOU KNOW I CAN'T REACH YOU TO TALK ABOUT IT??  So from that day forward I don't wreck my weekend with voicemail, either.  It can wait.  (Yes, sometimes even on game nights - if a kid is calling in sick, the message will still be there on Monday.  Same idea as the pink phone slips that I'd get on Monday morning when the school secretary came in and got the weekend messages off the answering machine.)
• Sometimes I walk away from it all.  There are days when it's just time to leave.  And if that day happens to be a nice one, I will frequently leave at my contractual time and go ride my bike somewhere. Yep, contract time.  For me this year that's 1:55 p.m.  If I hurry I can be on the bike by 2:30.
•  Some weekends I'll spend some hours on my deck brewing a batch of beer or two.  Over the years I've spent far too much money on that particular hobby...
• I would love to practice my trumpet more, but that usually doesn't happen.  I've been doing it quite a bit lately because I played in a musical a few weeks ago, and every time I get a chance like this I remember how much fun it is to play.  At 50 years old keeping my chops in shape still sucks, but I love performing in groups.  I've done some brass quintets and such, as well as plenty of college and HS musicals over the years, along with weddings, church gigs, etc.

That's probably a partial list, but you get the idea.  So back to the title of this post:  What did YOU do for yourSELF this weekend?  Score study doesn't count - that's school, even though it will benefit you as you teach.  How did you walk away?  Or did you? 

Posted on a board in my office is an ancient copy of an article from The Instrumentalist magazine entitled "Director Puts Band in Proper Perspective."  It's from a veteran teacher who finally decided that he'd had enough.  Enough of the after-school sectionals, enough of the all-day Saturday rehearsals, enough of private lessons, etc.  Midway through the article he says, "and you know what?  My bands got better."  And he goes on to detail the more relaxed atmosphere and his and his students' happiness.

One evening when my son was about three years old I came up the stairs from the laundry room wearing my jazz band shirt.  Nathan loved everything I did with the bands; once I even brought him up on stage so the jazz band could play "Happy Birthday."  He's a bass performance/elementary music ed major at MSU now, so apparently he wasn't too traumatized by my job.  But I remember on this particular occasion seeing his face fall in disappointment as he realized that if I was wearing that shirt it meant I was leaving again.  Who knows the reason for him not being excited about band on that one night?  But it really hit me. 

Occasionally I will read posts or replies on the BDG site that talk about the constant 16-hour days (not really exaggerating here) that some directors spend at school.  Sometimes it is the younger teachers, perhaps just married or with a new baby at home, wondering how they can change things or avoid burnout.  Recently there were a few posts about "I'm so sick I can't go to school, but I don't feel that I can take a sick day."  I can tell you honestly that I have never, in 28 years of teaching, spent 16 hours at school unless it was during the high school musical season or connected to a football game, etc.  In other words, because the band was performing or I was otherwise required to be there.  So probably a dozen times per year, give or take.

As a point of reference, I run a 200+ member program with five performing ensembles that meet from zero through 5th hours.  During the first semester my large marching band class counts as two classes in one, and splits into two separate hours second semester.  Virtually all of those students march; we had 197 on the field this year.  We perform for two separate high school football programs, covering virtually all Friday games for the regular season (full band or pep band), and usually all the home playoff games as well. The band does not travel to any away games except for state finals (three times in ten years).

Are you spending more than 12 hours at your building every day?  I would honestly appreciate a look at what you're doing.  No disrespect intended here; I am wondering what fills that much time.   How much time do you spend on your off hours doing school stuff?  This can include score study, sectionals, playing test evals, etc.  Anything "off the clock" that is officially not part of your salary.

• Do you require sectionals, private study, etc.?  Are your students buying in to what you are requiring?  Do they do after-school sectionals because they are excited to learn more, or because it will affect their grade if they don't attend?  The schedules my students maintain in activities do not allow me to require very many after-school band things; we do a Monday night rehearsal during marching season from6:30- 9:00.
• Can what you are doing wait until tomorrow so you can spend time with family or friends?  
• What are your requirements for lesson planning, etc.?  I know from more than one elementary teacher friend that many lessons take far longer to write than they do to actually teach.  I fear that I would be in serious trouble if my district or state starts requiring me to do all of that every week...

I sort of don't want to mention this next idea, but here goes: I fear that sometimes we as band directors do the "humble brag" thing as far as hours at school are concerned.  Maybe it's our competitive nature that makes that happen.  You know what I mean: the guy in the program five miles away, who gets straight I's at every festival is at school for 12 hours every day, so maybe you need to be, too.  But try as I might, I can't spend 12 hours at school every day. 

Well, I hope to get some constructive commentary going regarding these thoughts.  As I finish this post I am sitting in the living room with my wife and kids (who are home from college), having just completed a 12-hour day!  Today was the second audition day for the HS musical, so we spent some serious time as a staff putting together the cast.  Irony?  Maybe, but I get paid for my role with the theater, so maybe not.

So...  What DID you do last weekend? I hope it was fulfilling and meaningful and didn't have to involve your job!

It's Been A While!

Wow.  Almost exactly a month since I have written anything.  Well, that's not exactly true - I have one completed that I won't publish but it felt good to write, as well as started a couple, and one more (about my trip back to the spring crash site) that I'm not quite sure about.  So plenty of effort, but no product to show for it.  Last week I started one about school lunches and Michelle Obama.  I like my ideas, but at the time it felt like too much work!

So here's what's been up lately:
 - The numbers on the scale generally are around 190 pounds, representing a total of 36 pounds off my frame in the last two years.  I would like that number to be higher (or lower, depending on which of the two numbers you're talking about), but I feel good and am not concerned right now about a particular number.  
 - I finished another detox class.  Dana and I actually taught this one, and I think things went pretty well.  We had a few new students and one alumni to the program, and all reported feeling  better as well as losing an average of, I believe, 8 pounds each over the course of the 28 days!
 - I have been riding some since the Iceman race, but kind of took November off.  I did get about 100 miles for the month, so that was good.  The number for the year at this point is 2215 miles on at least four different bikes.  THAT is a number I can get behind.  Had I not broken myself I am certain I'd have cracked the 3K mark.

Today was an unusually beautiful December day, with the sun shining and temps in the mid-40s.  It was also officially Global Fat Bike Day, so a couple of friends and I hit the trails in the Allegan Forest for about 15 miles.  Great time!

It was a great way to end what turned out to be kind of a crappy week at school.  Nothing major, just busy and frustrating.  It started with the Christmas parade, in which the HS band marched in 17 degree weather because I decided the community needed to have the marching band in the parade rather than keep the students warm and their instruments working (seriously - by the end of the parade, less than a mile, the brass instruments were all frozen and unworkable, and the woodwinds literally had icicles forming inside them).  I will not let that happen again!  It ended, though, with getting to spend some quality time after school (and even during at least one class) with some great kids, which always helps me remember that pretty much any other job pales in comparison to mine.

So there you go.  I will re-visit the few drafts I have in the folder, and hopefully finish them all soon! 

The Iceman Indeed Cameth...

Soooo, I did it.  I raced my mountain bike.  What a day.  What a weekend, really; I had a ton of fun and learned a few things along the way.  Even as I write this on a chilly Sunday morning the washing machine is running, powering through the mud and guts that cover virtually everything I wore and touched yesterday.  As a matter of fact, I actually used the "Heavy Soil" setting on the washer for the first time since the kids were little...

"Ya know, our moms used to make us come inside when the weather got like this," I chuckled to the rider next to me somewhere in the woods between Kalkaska and Traverse City.  I should point out here for all who are wondering that though this was indeed a mountain bike race that there were many of us who were riding in packs throughout for no other reason than 5,500 riders don't really get spread out too much over 32 miles.  So we had time to talk as we faced the occasional bottleneck in the singletrack.

He shook his head and smiled in agreement.  The day had dawned, if you can call it that, cloudy, cold, rainy, and crappy.  An expected high temperature of 37 degrees gave everyone cause for hope and encouragement...

The Bell's Iceman Cometh Challenge is the largest point-to-point mountain bike in the US.  Stretching about 32 miles from Kalkaska to Traverse City in northern Michigan, it runs along a course consisting of pavement (about a mile), gravel roads (maybe two miles), and two-track and singletrack through the woods as it wends its way westward.  This year was the 25th annual race; the history traces back to 1990 when six friends decided to see if they could do the ride.  From that year to this it has grown into an event that encompasses a weekend of activities and over 5,000 riders including a flock of professionals.  A festival atmosphere at the Friday evening packet pick-up and bike expo at the Grand Traverse Resort migrates to the finish line on Saturday at Timber Ridge campground.  In between was one of the most difficult courses I could have imagined, and one of the best days I've had on a bike.  

You've already read the pre-race entry stuff.  On Thursday night I packed a bag, carefully listing, re-listing, and taking mental inventory of everything I could possibly need.  This included adding virtually every item of winter cycling gear that I own.  It was quite an agonizing decision, leading right up to about an hour before my wave took off, to figure out which outer layer I would wear.  There's nothing worse than being too warm or too cold on a ride.  Sweating in 30-degree temps just ends up making you cold in the long run; start out too cold and you never get warm enough.  After getting all of it in a bag I stowed it in the car until morning, leaving my bike til last; that would go on the rack when I left for school.

Friday actually looked like good weather!  Not too cold, no precipitation.  Which had to mean that Saturday would be worse...  We left Friday after school, heading north around 2:30.  I should note here that I had an official "crew" with me.  Cal DeKuiper, who also happens to be the ZPS Superintendent, has ridden this race at least five times.  He didn't get an entry this year, but said he'd go along anyway and drive the van to the end and help along the way.  He also provided lots of coaching and advice as well as a few training rides before the event.  Very cool to have any person, let alone your boss, be around to assist in such a way!

First stop on the journey?  The hunting cabin we were graciously allowed to use.  Literally quite in the middle of nowhere, this log cabin in Mancelona was a warm and wonderful place to stay.  Appealing to virtually all of my liberal leanings, it was filled with mounted animal trophies, several guns, and at least one crossbow...  But what a great place to stay, and we really appreciated the band parents who offered its use.

After we found the cabin, having wisely decided to try to get there before complete darkness, it was time to head to packet pick-up and the bike expo at the Grand Traverse Resort.  Thousands of people descend on these relatively small towns for this weekend, and the place was packed.  Never before have I seen so many vehicles with bikes and bike racks attached all in one parking lot.  Winding our way through the maze of people, vehicles, and gear we found the registration table.  Number 4033.  Packet received.  Time to shop.  Bought myself an Iceman jersey (I'm down to an XL!!) and the last crewneck sweatshirt (L!!), left my irreplaceable rider packet on the table, and walked away...  Mild cardiac stress occurred about fifteen minutes later.  Packet retrieved from the cash register, we continued to shop.  

Back at the cabin I carefully affixed my first official race placard on a bicycle (I don't consider the 24-Hour Challenge to be a "race," though you are officially competing against other riders), then taped two packets of GU to the top tube.  Aaron D. gets full credit and MANY thanks for this genius idea.  I've seen it before, but never considered it; I am usually riding slowly enough or in such an event that there is ample time and locations to grab nutrition.  Not so at all here, especially considering the addition of the dirt.  So all I had to do when I needed a shot was peel off the GU packet, which left the opening strip still taped to the bike.  One hand, a few squeezes, and voila!  GU consumed.  Only a small amount of grit, and no awkward reach for the back of my jersey or taking off my gloves.  Thanks, Aaron!  Best idea ever.

Speaking of the best idea ever, did the guy who invented the Camelbak system ever win a Nobel Prize?  Because he should have.  Here's a shot of my "emergency" water bottle.  Thanks to Cal I had a Camelbak for the weekend, and now I know why everyone on the trails has them all the time.  (Christmas present idea alert!!)  Again hands-free, no reaching, etc.  These two ideas saved the day.

As expected the day "dawned" cloudy and miserable on Saturday.  There was a light snow covering the ground outside the cabin, the temps hovered around 35 degrees, and there was a drizzly,

The morning of the race, right before we pulled out.  Snow...

annoying rain falling.  Great...  I refer you, however, to a previous post at this time :)  We left the warm confines of the cabin (thanks again, Bruce and Pam!) and made our way to Kalkaska for breakfast and scouting out the start area and all of that kind of stuff.

The atmosphere around the start area was festive and exciting.  Tons of riders and spectators filled a parking lot behind the start corral either waiting for their wave to start or hanging out with their riders.  We got there around Wave 8 or 9, and as we approached the line to watch I heard my name called.  "Hey, Alex!"  Alex Yingling, one of the guys from the shop was in the chute ready to start.  Alex is one of the guys that makes me faster, because if I want to ride with him I have to keep up with him.  As a point of reference here, he was in the first ten or so waves; I was in number 35...  I also saw MC, Kaat, Jan, Melissa, and several others as we hung out and waited.

Back at the van to finally suit up and get to my start position we saw the guys in the car next to us packing up.  Watching me peel off my outer jacket and grab my riding top they asked if I was still riding.  "Yeah, we're out.  Not riding in conditions like this."  I beat those guys before the race even started...  Here was the final call for outer wear.  Base layer is a given.  VCC jersey to represent the shop and team, even though no one will see it.  And then what?  Arm warmers?  Which of the five jackets (I am not kidding - I had five jackets: windbreaker (HA!), rain coat, and three weights of cold weather ones) would be the one that I could wear?  "Choose wisely..."  Pearl Izumi PRO Race it is.  Brand new, never tested, winter weight, water proof, breathable.  The positive outweighed the negative, so even though I'd never worn it or tried it out on a ride at all, I slipped it on.  No arm warmers (should I??).  No full-face headgear (maybe I'll want it later??).  Make a damn decision!

And off to the start.  Boy, am I cold right now.  Maybe I should have packed my warmest gloves.  Oh my god, will you knock that s4!t off??  Just shut up and ride.  Warmed up nicely, thank you.  As a matter of fact I can't think of even one other cold weather ride where I have chosen more perfectly what I was going to wear.  The Pearl jacket was the perfect combination of warm and dry, my fingers warmed up, as I knew they would, my feet stayed warm and dry, and my legs were just right in the medium-weight bib tights, though I had indeed packed heavy winter ones as well as a set of easily-removable leg warmers...

The suffering started shortly after the start.  OK, that's an exaggeration.  But it was wet, cold, and slippery right away.  Lost my footing once very early in the woods, but after that I kept it together.  The course zipped out of Kalkaska pretty fast, heading right toward a two-track service road sort of thing.  Lots of seasonal roads up here; that means the county doesn't plow them or take care of them in the winter.  About five miles in I started hearing my chain scraping with all of the muck it was starting to accumulate.  By the end of the race my bike would weigh at least an extra five pounds.  

As a matter of fact, I can't even fathom the horrors visited upon my drivetrain over the 30 miles.  I saw many riders off the trail fixing chains, derailleurs, and flats.  Another award is due here - this one to the mechanics at Velo City who keep all of my rides in tip-top shape.  "Keith, you better put a new chain on your Cervelo."  Brent, Nate, and Hawkins are terrific.  Between miles 12 and 22 or so my rear derailleur started skipping and being frustrating, but everything held together and I finished the race without a single mechanical issue.  Cal did end up driving a couple riders out of the course and to the next bail-out area; broken-down riders had to walk their bikes to the rescue locations, so he helped a few out.  I left the F-29 at the shop Sunday afternoon with the promise of at least a six-pack of homebrew if they could bring her back to normal.

I'd give you a play-by-play of the whole ride, but that would be boring as well as quite impossible.  Here's an idea of the conditions, though.  Thick, juicy, sucking mud.  And some trees.  Sometimes the mud went through the trees, unless it was on the logging trail part, in which case it was just thick, oozing muck.  I pedaled up more hills than I walked, and most of the time I walked only because I couldn't get the wheels to grab the surface.  Oh, there were some walking hills.  Oh, yes...  But most of the ones I walked up I thought would have been possible if there hadn't been as much mud and traffic.  The conditions were described by veteran riders as the worst they had ever experienced.  According to one report even the pros ended up about 20% slower than usual.  So my time can only get better in the future, right??

I did learn one thing on this trip: worse than swallowing a bug?  Swallowing a blob of mud...  Flung up from my front wheel as I negotiated a slip through a bog, a blob the size of at least a large fly popped right into my gasping mouth.  The thing about bugs is you can spit them out.  Mud is forever.  Gritty teeth, sandy cheeks.  Mmmm...  Good stuff.  Mixed well with the GU.

The absolute coolest thing, though?  I wouldn't have changed a thing I did as far as technique, clothing, or gear.  I already told you the clothes were just right.  I can attribute my slower-than-goal time to conditions, traffic, and maybe some rookie dreaming of a 3-hour finish, but it had nothing at all to do with my riding.  That made me happy.  I had energy and power all the way to the end.  The finish

See the loops in the middle?

 

 

 

area did make me cry a little - they loop you into the finish area and then right back out for one more muddy, nasty kilometer of hell.  On the absolute final stretch you get to go under the bridge that you rode over a few minutes ago, and of course my front derailleur chose just that moment to balk and be annoying.  "Get that gear!!" a spectator shouted as he heard metal on mud screaming to get a grip.  

But I FINISHED.  I officially came in #2463 out of 3514 finishers.  54/74 in my age group.  I officially beat over 1000 riders.  Not that it matters.  I did this for fun.  For myself.  To see if I could.  To challenge my ability.  To see what I could take.  And I never once even remotely considered giving up.  (OK, maybe as I trudged up one of those evil muddy hills, but not more than say, 2-3 times...)  I am not one to tout my own accomplishments, but this one indeed was a big one.  I don't think I've been happier with a personal result.  Sure, I would have liked a faster time, but I'll be back.  

In case I missed anyone, I will thank people again here.  First and foremost my wife, Dana, who allows me to spend frivolously on silliness like this and brewing beer, and has stuck with me for almost 25 years of marriage, two kids, and all the crap that goes with it.  She has also enjoyed riding an MTB this fall!  Perhaps she will join me next year...

Thanks again to Cal.  I wonder if any other CEOs drove up north for the weekend to support a middle manager?  Most of the pictures you see here were taken by him, most while he was running along side me shouting encouragement.

Bruce and Pam's (and Jalen's) cabin was awesome.  And free.  And I forgot to take a selection of homebrew to leave as a thank-you. (And based on what I saw, there's some crappy beer consumed at the hunting cabin.  Time for an upgrade!!)  The warm hospitality was very much appreciated.

Brad, Jenny, Aaron, Brent, Nate, Mark, Hawkins, Sandy, and Alex - I defy anyone to find a better place for bicycling than Velo City Cycles.  What a great crew.  Thanks for encouraging me.

Alex at the starting line.

ME at the starting line!

End of the day...

Well, that about covers it.  I'll be back.  Had a great time; enjoyed virtually every minute of it. 

So I Signed Up to Do an Actual Race...

A little over a year ago I bought a mountain bike.  An MTB.  A machine that I had previously looked upon with some disdain, actually.  "If you want to ride a bike, ride the road.  The woods are for hiking.  And animals."  Here we are a year later and I've started a mountain bike club at school, I've ridden about a dozen different trails throughout west and mid Michigan, and just recently I even signed up for a race.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I will be racing my MTB in a couple weeks.

OK, just so you know, I don't plan on actually being competitive or anything.  As a matter of fact, as a favorite coach of mine, Chuck Yonker of ZEHS Girls' XC fame, puts it, I plan to be "a completer, not a competer."  But it's officially a race, and I am officially registered.  Along with about 3,999 others.

It's called the Bell's Beer Iceman Cometh Challenge, and it runs from Kalkaska to Traverse City in northern Michigan.  Totaling about 30 miles, the race is ridden over "paved roads, dirt roads, two tracks (the majority of the course), abandoned railroad beds, and the world famous Vasa Nordic ski trail" between the start and finish points.  There is also apparently something known as "Ball-breaker Hill," which I am really looking forward to...

This race is one of those bucket list-type events for so many people that it clogs the interweb on the day registration opens.  Tales abound of how many hours people waste spend online while at work, constantly refreshing pages until they get a sign-up screen.  Based on that idea, I figured I'd never do it - unless, of course, I plant some random flute player or someone in my office to do the screen refreshing for me.  I do have classes to teach, after all...  "Why, yes, Mr. VS, the lesson plan for today does include some 'technology' applications..."  BUT.  This year something different was added to the registration process: an "opt in/opt out" procedure.  Apparently lots of folks that waste spend all that time at work online back in March sometimes can't actually do the race but sign up just in case.  Maybe they don't get enough training, or something else comes up in their lives.  So they eventually need to sell their entries.  And there are a bunch of us with real jobs who are unable to register on the first day who want to buy them.  So now the site has a forum to make that happen, and I got in pretty painlessly a couple weeks ago, buying an entry from a VCC team member whose wife decided against riding.  Cool.

Except now there's pressure.  I know, I know, I'm not going to win, place, or even show.  But there's something about the word race that makes me think differently or something.  And it's 30 miles on an MTB over all kinds of terrain, and the thing I have the best chance of doing is blowing up by the halfway mark and not finishing...

So yesterday as I was riding at the Fort Custer MTB trails I got to think about several things.  Mostly not falling down and breaking myself, but others cropped up as well.  Like superstition.  And I am not at all superstitious, except for when I am totally superstitious.  

Yesterday was the "two weeks until the event" mark.  Last time I was two weeks away from an important cycling event I crashed and burned and screwed up the event and much of my summer.  So you can bet that I was plenty cautious as I picked my way through the roots, rocks, and mud.  (Except for the three out of four times I took the "hard" way arrows through the course.  I was successful on 2.5 of those three times - I ended up walking down one hill where I was pretty convinced that I had made a wrong turn and missed the trail.  But about halfway down I saw what the route was, and then I was glad I walked anyway...  On "hard way" #2 I really impressed myself with my handling skills, but fear of death or injury frequently improves those.)

I also thought a lot about the differences between road and trail riding, and since this blog is supposed to be about some training things and such, I thought I'd try to explain those.

On either bike the biggest muscle group used is obviously the legs, right?  On the road, the vast majority of the time you are using what people call "slow twitch" fibers, or those which basically allow you to ride, walk, or do whatever you're doing pretty much all day.  Fast twitch fibers, on the other hand, are the ones that you use when you sprint.  Well, on the MTB the slow twitch ones stay pretty quiet.  LOTS of climbing, lots of fast twitch fibers helping you navigate from one place to the other.  

The other huge difference I have noticed in the woods is the amount of arms and core I end up using.  There's a lot more steering and direction changing involved on the trails, which may seem obvious, but think about how you might do that on the road.  Nice, slow, sweeping turns at 15-18 mph are replaced by shoving the handlebars quickly from one direction to the other, frequently while climbing over a root or descending through rocks.  Which is where the core muscle group comes in.  I can pretty much ride on the road all day without engaging too much of my core.  Balance is balance, after all.  Point me in a straight line and I am set for miles.  But in the woods I am reminded of the old high school football cheer: "lean to the left, lean to the right, stand up, sit down, fight, fight, FIGHT!"  

The nearly two hours I rode yesterday took me 16.5 miles through some pretty sweet trails at Fort Custer.  My Garmin registered that my heart rate was mostly in the "race" and "holy crap" zones.  The same amount of time on the road would give me about 30 miles, with heart rates in the "training" and "racing" zones, or as I like to refer to them, zones 3 and 4.  Pretty sure in a couple of spots yesterday I invented a Zone 6.  (You've heard the maximum heart rate thing, right?  "220 minus your age"?  It's either way off or I have died several dozen times over the years...)

And today Dana and I rode about ten easy miles on the road, spinning out the legs and returning the muscles to a normal state.  It's nice to have a cooling off day occasionally, but this time of year those are too easy to take; with a race coming up (did I mention I signed up to actually race?) I need to make sure I keep up my fitness level.  Perhaps I should figure out some sort of plan to work up to peak by next weekend and then "taper" until race day.  Tapering could involve some nice relaxing days...

Quite possibly the coolest thing about mountain biking, though?  The sights.  The smells.  The air.  The lack of automobile traffic.  You can only experience one of those via this electronic communication, so I give you these:

So wish me luck.  Say a prayer.  I am looking forward to the experience that I have only heard about.  The weather?  I've heard everything from sunny and 50 or so all the way to nasty, rainy, snowy awfulness that only Michiganders can truly appreciate.  I'll let you know how it turns out.  Meanwhile, the next two weeks will be spent properly fueling my body and getting in a few more workouts!