It is all fun and games until someone loses an eye, or so the old adage goes. I understand the Transit Strike is going to end today, so that means my intense pleasure of commuting by bicycle to work will come to an end. In reality, I will probably continue to ride my bike, but it won’t be the same. I enjoyed speeding through huge traffic snarls while 1000’s of motorists sat trapped in their cars for hours on end.

Unfortunately, the strike did not end soon enough for a fellow member of the Asphalt Green Triathlon Club. Matthew Long, a Tri Club member, firefighter and all around good guy, was struck by a bus while riding to work. He sustained some very critical injuries. Here is the story according to the Associated Press:

(New York – AP, December 22, 2005) –

An off-duty firefighter was struck and critically injured Thursday morning after being struck by a private bus while riding a bike to work.

The firefighter, identified as Matthew Long of Ladder 43, was struck at 5:58 a.m. on 52nd Street and Third Avenue in midtown Manhattan, said Fire Department spokesman Ken Bohan.

(Copyright 2005 by The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved.)

I feel for Matt. I too was hit by a bus 22 years ago so I know how devastating and shocking it must be for him. My injuries were not nearly so bad; broken ribs, punctured lung and contusions, and I recovered almost 100 percent (I still have some weakness in my left shoulder). I didn’t know Matt well, but I sincerely hope that he will make a quick and full recovery. I’ll send out some prayers for him.

Tomorrow at 6AM, the Tri Club will do a ride in suppor of Matt. They will meet Engineer’s gate between 5:45 and 6am to ride a few loops in collective support of Matt. I will be there to show my support.

I am crediting the Transit Strike with helping to kick my training back in gear. There is something about riding my mountain bike in cold wintry conditions through heavy traffic that just gets the adrenaline flowing. I felt oddly inspired today to wake up at 4:30am and pack all of my gear necessary to do a 2000 yard swim and a run 10k run at Asphalt Green and then make it to work. The cool crisp air was fantastic and felt great and the 10 mile ride to AG took only 43 minutes.

Due to the strike, many people were not in my office. This made it oddly quiet and allows me to have a fairly productive day. The hours passed by quickly enough and I started to look forward to my ride home. At around 4:30pm, I heard from a friend who worked only a couple of blocks away. He asked if I wanted to catch a couple of drinks before he began his commute home and I readily said yes. I figured I may as well carbo-load with some beer to have enough energy for the way home. We met at Paper Moon Restaurant and drank several Moretti beers.

I filled myself with the prerequisite calories needed to ride home and headed back to my office to change into my cycling gear. The traffic was very thick on the way home and I did a great deal of bobbing and weaving between cars. I love urban mountain biking. It is very exciting and I loved doing it with 100’s of others. Seeing so many cyclists out on the roads all making their way like they were on a single track trail reminded me of when I used to competitively mountain bike.

At the foot of the north side of the Manhattan Bridge, was a contingent from Transportation Alternatives offering encouragement, support, candy and stickers. I adorned my bike and helmet with a “Bike the Strike” sticker, downed a Snickers candy and then continued on my merry way. My total time home was 53 minutes, included TA pit stop. Still faster than any subway commute.

Today is the first day of the Transit Strike. Personally, I think Roger Toussaint, the leader of the Transit Workers Union is an asshole and deserves to be thrown in jail for breaking the Taylor Law. In a nutshell, he has shut down all of NYC since he refused to give in on one issue. That issue is having new hires pay 6 percent into the Pension Fund, rather than 2 percent for current employees. So everyone who is striking is doing so for an issue that doesn’t even affect them. There, I’ve said my piece on that.

Since I am affected by a lack of subway service into the city, I decided to forgo my scheduled bike ride this morning, since I figured I would simply ride into the city by bike. While I was getting ready, a rusty nail punctured the bottom of my foot. The thick wool sock I was wearing pulled up an old nail from between my 100 year old floor boards. It went in about an inch, but fortunately missed anything vital.

I screamed when the nail went in and I screamed again when I pulled it out. The nail was an angry rusty thing with a hooked curve to it. While I was sitting on the floor squeezing out some blood, I asked my wife for my cordless phone, whereupon I called my local doctor and asked if I could come in for a tetanus shot. Fortunately he had one available so I hobbled on over to be stuck again. I’ve included a picture of the nail to the left.

I really didn’t mind having to get a tetanus shot, because I knew I would need to do so to have protection against illness when I do the Manhattan Island Marathon swim in June 2006. I also had them draw blood to see if I needed a Hepatitis A or B vaccination. So while the nail in my foot was inconvenient, it really didn’t take me out of my way.

When I returned home, I had to make some business calls before I headed into the city. Unfortunately, it appeared that my home technology was going on strike as well. My cordless phone battery died, my cell phone couldn’t get a signal and my internet connection went out taking along with it my secondary Vonage line. Since I had no email, phone or Internet, I decided I may as well get going.

My original plan was to get into my office around 10am. I have a special garment bag for my bike and I packed a suit, tie and shoes. I wanted to make a point of showing up for work, properly dressed and ready to go. My lunch plans included going to the dentist for my regular hygiene visit.

The ride in was very smooth and easy. There was a lot more traffic than usual compared to the times I’ve commuted to the city by bike in the past. Overall though, it was a great day for a ride and I thoroughly enjoyed it. While on the Manhattan Bridge, I even helped a young lady who had a flat tire.

I arrived at 57th and Lexington around 1:10pm, so I just headed over to the dentist since it didn’t make sense to go to my office first. During my examination, it was discovered that I had a cracked tooth and I needed to get a crown put on it. I decided to make the most of this situation and asked for them to bring on the Nitrous gas while the dentist did his business. I must say the day was turning out well. First a very pleasant ride on a beautiful winter day and now an hours worth of relaxation under a Nitrous induced hypnotic daze. It reminded me of my college days when I would do whippits with my friends.

The gas was taking a few minutes to clear out of my system, but that didn’t stop me from getting back on my bike and riding the half mile back to my office. Traffic was moving very slowly, so it wasn’t all that dangerous to be bobbing and weaving between the cars. Upon arriving at my office, I received many smiles and laughs over my riding outfit. Baggy tights, brown work boots and my down jacket, with a balaclava and helmet to round things off.

I worked for a few hours and then began to get ready for the return trip home. Traffic was a little heavier at this point, but that only meant an extra 5 minutes of travel time. It took me 47 minutes to get home and 42 minutes to get in. I can honestly say, I’ve had my fastest commute in quite some time. I think I need to commute like this more often.

Stage fright is defined as acute nervousness associated with performing or speaking before an audience. I suppose participating in a race can cause stage fright, just as much as appearing on a stage. Perhaps this explains why many people have their race performance go into the toilet. They are so nervous that they forget crucial things or their race plan all together.

Speaking of stage fright and toilets, I had the unpleasant experience of stage fright when I went to the bathroom last night in Tao Restaurant on 58th Street in Manhattan. The bathroom is patrolled by a washroom jockey who directed me to one of the most elaborate urinals I’ve ever experienced. It consisted of a backlit wall with a water fall that went on the moment you ponied up to do your business.

The urinal jockey stood only a few feet away waiting for you to finish so he could promptly turn on the water, squirt some soap and then had you a towel. I found the whole experience of pissing into this perverse form of artwork while someone stood by looking and waiting for me to finish very discomfiting. It took at least a minute for my flow to start. When it did, it was with such fits and starts to barely consist of more than a dribble and lacked the force to even hit the wall. By the time I got a nice flow going, I left a tidy little puddle on the floor. It was a major relief to get my florescent colored (like this young lady) and vitamin enriched pee to hit the water fall.

I supposed the dude was just trying to be conscientious and helpful, but this was too much for me. Bathroom attendants get paid like crap, but I suppose it’s a shitty job. Personally, when I go to the can, I just want to be left alone. I can turn flush my own toilet, turn on my own water and dry my hands myself, thank you very much. I resent having what should be a relaxing thing turn into a stressful encounter.

Well, as I have discussed ad nauseam of late, about my lack of desire to swim, I now find myself as one sixth of a relay team for the 2006 Manhattan Island Marathon Swim. There is nothing like a large pending deadline ahead of you to motivate yourself into getting back into gear. Now that I have committed myself to being part of a MIMS team, I will have to get back into swimming form.

I volunteered to swim the portion through the Harlem River. This appears to be a particularly polluted and nasty stretch of water, but it looks very interesting from shore. I need to make sure I get some dosed of Cipro for before and after the event.

Really, I need to get myself motivated for all kinds of workouts. I’ve signed up for several events next year and I must get in shape for them. I tried to take off from working out yesterday, since I was tired from a holiday party the night (Wed.) before. However, my coach wouldn’t let me take off and told me to do whatever it takes to get a workout in. Mind you, this is before another party that I had yesterday (Thu.) evening. So I went to a nearby NYSC and rode on a spin bicycle for about 45 minutes, while listening to nothing and looking at 4 walls – Pure, unadulterated torture. At least I sweat out the toxins from the prior evening.

This morning I somehow managed to bang out 6 miles on my basement treadmill. I had to keep slowing down the pace in order for the effort to be comfortable. I suppose the difficulty came from once again drinking alcohol night before. Back to back parties are something my poor mind and body are not accustomed.

Maybe if I trained for a Beer Mile I would be able to have a few drinks at night and not feel like shit in the morning. Or maybe I am just getting old and decrepit.

Thanks to the folks at Brightroom Photography, I found the person who smacked me in the face as I crossed the finish line at the Joe Kleinerman 10K. Here is the picture…

You can find out his name by clicking here

This morning I staggered around like a punch drunk boxer taking a standing 8 count as I contemplated heading to the pool. My Polar alarm went off at 4:30am and I awoke to a staggering heading. I got up, took two Excedrin, and then hid back under my covers.

The caffeine immediately coursed through my bloodstream however, and at around 4:40am I started to feel awake. I didn’t feel any better, but at least I was awake. To further supplement the Excedrin, I popped a Gurana capsule to boot.

I so didn’t want to go to the pool. The last thing in the world I wanted to feel was the cold water enveloping my warm dry body after I leaped from the edge of the pool deck.

With these negative thoughts swirling around my mind it was time for some introspection and to search for my motivation.

My first thought was I need to go swimming in order to prepare myself for Ironman Lake Placid so I can qualify for Kona. This wasn’t working though. Doubts have started to creep in to my mind and I am thinking it won’t happen. I needed to think of something else.

I thought of how I would feel after I did the swim. Undoubtedly I would feel good and satisfied afterwards. Just like a reluctant wife who at first doesn’t want sex, but afterwards is glad she had it. That worked somewhat.

Next I reminded myself of some dreams I’ve been having lately. In the dreams, my upper body is becoming weak from lack of any upper body exercise, like swimming and I am no longer able to lift up certain objects; like my children. My children like to play a game called “Garbage”. It is where I pick them high up in the air and toss them onto my bed as I yell that I have to throw away all of this garbage. They keep rolling back down the garbage hill making me throw them away over and over again. In my dream I am too weak to toss them away. That was good motivation.

Lastly, I reminded myself about the times I’ve been on long training rides, where I grew tired and weary of riding around in circles; usually in Prospect Park, where I was doing 30 plus loops of the park. I would want to quit doing the ride so badly, but I didn’t because I knew it was just my mind playing tricks on me because my body needed something. I used what I was feeling this morning as analogous to those long rides and made myself get over it. While this wasn’t motivating, it was the final push to commit to the morning swim.

So I made it to the pool as described in my earlier posting. Yes, I feel good about it now, but I am sure come Friday morning, I will be dreading the trip once again. Maybe I will pray for a Transit strike – That’ll keep me at home.

Email to coach@slb-coaching.com in response to me needing to get into the pool and doing the New Years Day Polar Bear swim.
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I got in the water this morning. I swam 4×500 yards. I know I was supposed to do drills, but I felt it more important to just get used to swimming. The thought of swimming was painful enough, without having to concentrate on kicking drills, etc. which I don’t like. Jumping in the pool in the morning is like being reborn and we all know what babies feel like when they come out of the womb.

I also ran 8 miles on the treadmill. 7.6 miles according to my Polar 625x. Which do you think is more accurate? At the 10K it said I ran 6.6 miles. I do see though that for a couple of segments, the speed was registering much lower than I was running. I’ll try the error correction. At first I just planned to go 10k. Then I said let’s go to 7 miles/60 minutes. Then I went over 7 miles on the treadmill to get my Polar up to 7 miles. Then I said fuck it, let’s just got for 8 miles on the treadmill. I didn’t really feel like stopping, but I wasn’t scheduled for a long run and I had to get to work. When the treadmill stopped I didn’t know what to do for a second or two. I think I am getting senile. Further proof of that is the fact I told my daughter I remembered a couple of stories from my childhood to tell her (she likes to hear that at bedtime) and for the life of me, I can’t remember what they were. Could I be running out of brain cells?

I need to complain to Caroline about my member card. I keep having problems with it. Sometimes it doesn’t let me on the pool deck. Sometimes, like today, it doesn’t let me on the gym floor. Maybe I will redo their website so sometimes it doesn’t work.

I am not sure about the Polar Bear Swim. I am really having a tough time with the cold. Even when I run, my hands are very cold and painful. My feet are even worse. I am pretty sure I suffer from Raynaud’s Phenomenon.

I am watching a young, pretty girl do Vector Calculus while riding the F train home from work. The fact that she is a young and pretty girl and is writing off equations with apparent ease is very impressive and amazing. Personally, I had a difficult time in college once I got past remedial algebra. That’s actually not true, but I did find doing any sort of calculus harder than training for an Ironman.

This holds true for even now as I struggle to get my training back in focus. I just feel cold and tired and feel like sleeping through the winter. I wish I could plug in all of my variables into a Vector Calculus equation and see what the results would be. Variable x could be my current state of fitness, y could be my mental state, z could be the past few years of training and q can be the training I will do between now and Lake Placid.

If I could do that and see the results, then I would know what to expect next summer. Of course, that would change my mental state (for better or worse) and that would change the results altogether.

Tomorrow morning I am going to make a very concentrated effort to get myself to the pool. It is the last thing I feel like doing, so perhaps it is the first thing I need to do. There is nothing like getting the difficult stuff out of the way quickly so the rest of your tasks appear easy.

Today was the first bit of exercise I’ve done in the past 5 days. I’ve taken off training on the advice of my wife, coach and doctor in order to get over some sort of bacterial infection in my lungs and throat. I just started taking antibiotics and I will know I am better when I am no longer hocking up great globs of green loogies.

I picked up fellow runner and blogger Cris on the way to the Joe Kleinerman 10K in Central Park. We’ve been emailing each other for the past 8 months, but have yet to meet each other. When I found out he was also doing this race, I said I would pick him up. I was looking forward to meeting him. Cris is a runner and aspiring multisport athlete who has been fighting a lifelong battle with Cystic Fibrosis. He understands to the Nth degree what dealing with lung related issues is like, including the nastiness of coughing up great gobs of green guck from your lungs. I think he may appreciate this posting I found on the web.

We had plenty of time to make it to race packet pickup, find parking and head to the baggage check before the race. While driving Cris told me about CF and we compared notes about sticking to it with our training in order to achieve our athletic goals. Cris started to cough a few times and the sound of it gave me the urge to cough as well.

Whenever I have trouble with my chest or lungs, I begin to obsess over them. This probably started from the time I was a teenager, when I suffered a punctured lung in a car accident. Other incidents in my life that add to my lung paranoia are:

* Exposure dirt and debris when cleaning out a basement after a fire at a printing company.
* Renovating my basement and discovering I was handling Asbestos.
* Nasty paint fumes
* Exposure to second hand smoke while driving in a car with my parents as a child in the winter when they kept the windows closed.

My troubles are nothing compared to Cris’ and I should take what he has to go through as a smack in the face to put my issues in perspective.

It took a while to park, but after some aggressive driving and some luck from the parking gods, I managed to find a spot for my car with plenty of time to spare. We made it to baggage claim, headed to the race start and said goodbye for the day. I would be running much faster than Cris and we were going separate ways afterwards.

My plan for the race was to take it easy since I wasn’t supposed to overly stress my body. I started out at a strongly comfortable pace and held it throughout the race. I will sum it up here by way of my email to my coach. He sent me an email asking how the race went, here is my response:

Neil -

Charles

I did forget to mention to him, that as I crossed the finish line, a runner right in front of me felt exuberant about his finish and tossed his arms up on the air for the finish line photo, smacking me right in the face with the back of his hand. For the first time during the day, I was glad I wasn’t running faster.