Recently in Bicycling Category

Winter is giving way to spring around here, which makes my morning and evening walking commutes both exhilarating and treacherous. Patches of ice materialize at inopportune times, so mindful walking is the order of the day: one foot in front of the other. I've managed to maintain my footing so far, unlike My Lovely Wife, who has taken a couple of tumbles this winter.

 

I should point out by way of explanation, though, that MLW is outside a lot in the winter. She's one of those people who hates to exercise indoors. She'd much rather brave the glacial ruts on our winter streets on her bicycle than climb on a stationary bike at the gym. As she puts it, "When I'm riding my bike, I like to go somewhere."

 

It's all about fresh air and adventure for her, but it appears that she also has some research on her side: She's getting a better workout outside than she would get at the gym. And that's the case whether you're cycling, running or even rowing, according to Gina Kolata's story in today's NY Times. Kolata queries several researchers and fitness experts on the differences between indoor and outdoor workouts and highlights the subtle -- and not so subtle -- ways in which exercising out in the elements can push you harder.

 

Some of these are obvious (running or pedaling into the wind is tougher than doing it indoors), but others are more subtle. For instance, the flat surface of a treadmill won't work your foot muscles the way an uneven running surface does; and riding a real bicycle outside demands the kind of muscle coordination (for balance and steering) that you can't develop on a stationary bike.

 

Personally, I prefer the gym. I'll break out the old Schwinn when the ice finally retreats in a few weeks (and some of the scarier potholes have been filled), but I've never been one to crank out a 20-mile ride on a Saturday afternoon, just for the fun of it. So, I doubt that my indoor workout regimen will have much effect on my cycling proficiency. As long as I stay vertical, I'm pretty happy. Nor do I have much interest in any serious outdoor (or indoor, for that matter) jogging come spring. If I can get the dog out for a walk once a week, that would be considered a triumph.

 

It's not that MLW is training for the Tour de France, either. Her knees are pretty creaky. But that daily bike ride is a pretty important part of her fitness regimen. Plus, it makes her happy. As long as she stays upright.

It's not often that we're treated to temps in the 60s in November around here, so My Lovely Wife and I were able to spend a good portion of the weekend out and about on foot and on our bicycles (the Crapmobile's right front wheel is making calamitous sounds, as well, so we left it in the driveway).

 

Saturday morning, we pedaled down to Minnehaha Falls and descended into the creek gorge below the cascade and hiked part of the way to the river. There are points along this trail where you can actually escape all signs of the city. It's a fabulous little urban getaway.

 

We weren't feeling too ambitious though, as MLW's knee was starting to act up. So, we hiked back to the falls and climbed on our bikes (which always helps our creaky knees) to explore the bluffs between the creek gorge and the river where the state veteran's home is located. I'm guessing that they don't get a lot of bicycle traffic over there, because we got some strange looks from folks as we wound our way among the historic and contemporary buildings that make up this little village above the river. All in all, a lovely morning.

 

I got in a little indoor workout Sunday morning: pushups and some kettlebell exercises that got my heart pumping pretty good. I'm always a little amazed at what a great cardio workout you can get by spending just a few minutes swinging a kettlebell around. These kettlebell swings are particularly invigorating.

 

Later in the day, with rain threatening, MLW and I once again climbed aboard our bicycles -- this time for a meeting near downtown Minneapolis, about six miles away. (The whole carless thing makes for a more adventurous life, I think.) The wind was at our back, though, so before long, MLW was shedding her fashionable plaid jacket and we rolled to our destination without breaking a sweat.

 

Note: Our meeting took place at a neighborhood pub, so I enjoyed a pint of Surly Furious, even though I felt like I hadn't actually earned it.

 

Then, it was off to the co-op, a mile or so distant, to buy exactly two bags of groceries (another thing about carless shopping: you can't buy more than you can cart home) and a pleasant ride along the river back home. The rain held off.

 

As I write this, the Crapmobile is sitting in the shop awaiting a diagnosis. And as much as I appreciate the healthy benefits we gain from leaving our cranky old vehicle in the driveway, I'd really miss it when the snow begins to fly.

The holiday weekend lacked fireworks, though our neighbor outfitted his front yard with a red, white and blue light show featuring the music of John Phillip Sousa, Bruce Springsteen and Ray Charles (the latter singing his own stirring rendition of "America the Beautiful"), which debuted the evening of July 3 with much fanfare and, perhaps owing to a visit or two from less patriotic neighbors, did not favor us with an Independence Day encore. 

I declared my independence from the gym these past three days, which is not to say I hung out in a hammock (wish I had one) sucking on a succession of ice cold Budweisers (I prefer Grain Belt). Nope. There were errands to run, and when there are errands to run, My Lovely Wife and I run them on our bicycles. That meant about 10 miles in the St. Paul hill country (actually 5 miles up, 5 miles down) on Friday, a short ride (2 miles) to downtown Nokomis on Saturday (after a glorious rain shower) and another 8 miles or so to a vacationing friend's house to feed her cats this afternoon.

Between all the cycling (and sore hamstrings, glutes, etc.), there was gardening, gardening and a bit more gardening. Lots of bending, squatting and other moves that remind me of my age and the relative appeal of yoga. Plus, I dragged out the extension ladder and cleaned out the gutters without succumbing to heat stroke and toppling to a tragic death. All in all, a pretty active three days, even though I never got around to strapping on my heart-rate monitor.

It's been about a week now since I made it downstairs to the gym (lots of evening work recently), so I can't say I've been very diligent on the exercise front. I have been bicycling into the office every day, a practice that has been made more challenging by winds that have threatened to sweep me and my Schwinn off the bridge and into the watery depths below. I've also been neglecting my morning Oz push-up/plank routine, which I guess means I've hit another plateau.

I have continued to log my food choices into FitDay, though, which has contributed to a gradual erosion of poundage from my chassis; at my weigh-in last Thursday I tipped the scales at 159, the first time I've been under 160 in I don't know how long. The whole food journal thing does have the effect of forcing me to eat more mindfully (most of the time).

A couple of overtures from My Lovely Wife to join her in a yoga class have come to naught. There's something about yoga (perhaps my complete lack of flexibility?) that mutes its appeal, I'm afraid.

All in all, it seems I'm caught in a rut. Maybe my mild FitDay obsession is overtaking what's left of my exercise obsession. You know: If you don't want to exercise, just stop eating (don't try this at home). Or maybe I just need to come up with a new regimen.

Let's see: If I were to map out my ideal weekly workout, what would it be?

• Bicycling every day, for sure (how else am I going to get to work?).
• A little basketball once a week.
• Lifting three times a week.
• Long-distance fat-burning cardio twice a week (with my friend, the Elliptical Death Machine).

So, what if, beginning next week, I scheduled Mon.-Wed.-Fri. for strength-training (some in The Pit, some with the machines), Tues.-Thur. for a long stint (45 minutes?) on the EDM, and a Sunday afternoon on the basketball court? That would get me off the dime. Shake things up a bit.

Let's take a look at the calendar, then: Hmm. Monday's Memorial Day, Wednesday I'll be out of town, Friday is kind of up in the air, schedule-wise. . . .

I'll get back to you on this, OK?


Directions courtesy Wikipedia.

So, I skipped the gym on Friday but made up for it on Saturday. Not on the lifting front -- unless you count flipping burgers on the grill (yum!) -- but I got plenty of cardio.

Weekend mornings around here tend toward leisure: tea and the newspaper, speculation on whether The Boy (AKA Martin, 18) will rise in time for dinner, and perhaps a trip to the co-op to restock the pantry. But Saturday, My Lovely Wife had other ideas. So, we climbed on our bicycles and headed (into a fierce northwestern wind) for the downtown library, some 6 miles north -- with a breakfast stop at the Citizen Cafe ("Food for the People") on 38th Street, about a fourth of the way to our ultimate destination.

Properly fueled (try the Organic Scramble), we resumed our journey into the intermittently gale-force winds, and a half-hour or so later found ourselves rolling past the Metrodome, when my cell phone rang. It was my older brother, The Siding Mogul, inviting me to join him at the Dome later that evening for a Twins game. He always has great seats (who knew vinyl siding could be so lucrative?), so I happily agreed to meet him later -- just a few blocks from where I was standing at the time.

We resumed our trek into the wind tunnel that was 3rd Street and eventually coasted to a stop at our new, cantilevered downtown library, where we intended to rest our weary knees and dive into a little local history research for MOQ, the quarterly zine we publish. I was happy to use the elevator to get to the Special Collections section on the fourth floor.

An hour or so later, we were back on our bikes heading south, past the Metrodome, wind at our backs, knees happily pumping away as we zipped over the Sabo Bicycle Bridge (just for fun), under the Lake Street light rail station, and along the Hiawatha Avenue Bike Freeway toward home.

All along the way, I'm thinking: Am I going ride all the way back to the Metrodome in a couple of hours? There's always the train, of course. And the forecast spoke of rain. But the train is so packed at the Metrodome station that I'm always forced to walk to the next station up the line to avoid the chaos. Wouldn't it be nice to just jump on the bike and pedal home? But, then I'd have to buck that wind going in, though it would be at my back going home. You get the idea.

We fired up the grill and enjoyed the aforementioned burgers, MLW departed for her daily bike ride to the coffee shop, and I was left to ponder the imponderable (see above). I was supposed to meet The Siding Mogul "around 5:30" and it was already closing in on 5. I could walk the four blocks to the train station and be there in plenty of time, but I grabbed my rain jacket, stuffed it into my basket and started pedaling instead.

The wind was still an affront to all bicycling humanity (at least those of us heading north) and I could feel my hammies burning after just a few blocks. Though I've made the trip downtown hundreds of  times over the years, I really had no idea how long it might take me to cut through the gale, so I was checking the time at every opportunity. Around 38th Street, my phone rang. It was The Siding Mogul letting me know that he was running late.

I caught my breath, downshifted into a more comfortable gear, and pedaled slowly on. It was barely 5:15. I rolled up to the Dome a mere 15 minutes later, slightly stunned by how quickly I'd covered my third 6-mile leg of the day. The Siding Mogul was nowhere to be seen, of course, so I locked up my bike and spent the next half-hour smugly congratulating myself on my athletic prowess and the brilliance of my transportation choice.

The Siding Mogul did have great seats. The Twins pounded on the Angels. And three hours later I was back out on the sidewalk unhitching my steed for the gallop home. Bonus: It was not raining.

In fact, it was a gorgeous evening, and I flew down the Bicycle Freeway with much more joy than effort, covering the fourth of my four 6-mile trips that day in what felt like record time. Only when I closed the garage door and strode toward the house, however, did I begin to feel the creakiness in my left knee.

The next day, the back of my knee was swollen and tender, and I confined myself to my desk chair for most of the day. And it was raining today, so I left the bicycle in the garage. It's supposed to be sunny tomorrow. But I'm thinking 5 miles, OK? And I think I'll skip the stationary bike at the gym, if you don't mind.