Large Fella on a Bike

A Lot Like Life...

...in Minnesota these days:

Keep Ridin'... Always

Cracking the Ether...

...one pedal stroke at a time.

So... it's the holidays: X-Mas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or whatever you celebrate/believe in, and that's cool.  It is also the day of my weigh-in.

I can recall starting this journey in November of 2005 with a simple plan in my brain, that I then shared with my wife, Amy.  It was simple.  I would eat a certain way, and I would ride, and I'd weigh myself every 6 weeks.  She agreed, and wanted in.  We smiled, we hugged... and then we began doing it, together.  And then Chloe wanted in too.  And away we went: on this Journey.

I also can vividly remember, in the beginning, not being able to be weighed-in unless I went to the doctor, or hospital... because our scale, and most scales-even most doctor's, couldn't register my weight.  I exceeded the scale's maximum weight.  It was then that I found out that I weighed 501 pounds.

I also remember waiting, patiently, and then, not-so-patiently, to be able to register on the highest weight scale we could afford.  It's maximum read-weight was 440 pounds... and I'd stand on that thing every 6 weeks in silence, waiting for it to say something, anything [it's digital and also has an automated Stephen Hawking kinda voice that says your weight aloud].  It would say nothing.  Sometimes, later in those evenings-the evenings of our weigh-ins, once Amy & Chloe were in bed, I'd grab that scale, hold it while sitting on our sofa back east, and cry.  "Talk to me, please.  I'm busting my ass.  I'm riding as hard, as fast, as long, as I possibly can... fucking please talk to me in 6 weeks".  And it wouldn't.  And I kept going.

Finally, a weigh-in day came: Amy stood on it, and as usual it spoke for her... she was happy with what it said, as was I for her.  She was making progress, and I was/am so proud of her.  And, we knew I was losing weight too. It was evident, but I wanted a number, any number... some kind of solid confirmation.  'Please speak to me?' 

Amy said to me, "If it still doesn't register your weight today, lets go to the hospital so you can see your weight... you and I both know you're losing.  What do you think, good idea?".  I just grimaced and stood up onto that silent scale... after a second or two, Stephen Hawking spoke: "424.8 Pounds".  Patience, patience, patience.  Silence, silence, silence.  It pays to be both... and I, finally, had confirmation.

And at that point, that day, I knew what I was doing was working.  And then I began setting, what I called then, what I call now, "Break-Points".

From that day forward my Break-Points were:

400 pounds, and it came on 6/27/2006 when Mr. Hawking said to me, "388.2 pounds".
350 pounds, and it happened too... on 10/27/2006 when my scale spoke to me: "350.0 pounds".
300 pounds, and that day came on 5/7/2007, when technology spoke to me in the sound of, "291.0 pounds".

...however, the one I was always secretly waiting for was something below 250 pounds.  Because to be below 250 pounds was to be around the weight I weighed in High School, in the late 1970's and early 1980's.  But much more importantly... to be below 250 pounds was to be at a weight when I started, back then in High School, to not want to know my weight any longer.  A weight that said, "You're in over your head... you're a freak, an outcast, a person others look at and think things about.  A weight, that regardless of what others think, makes you feel like shit: physically, mentally, emotionally".

Back before I began this Journey, all the Doctors I saw, all the Bariatric specialists I talked/consulted with said the same thing to me, "You, Scott, cannot-will not, ever do this without Meds or a surgical procedure.  It cannot be done, or at least the odds are so against anyone ever doing it, that it doesn't warrant recording those odds.  Your only way out, besides death, is through medicine"... and all I could think was, "I'm a dead man... but at 250 pounds, back in High School when I knew what I weighed, I felt good-even great.  I'd give anything to be there again.  And look at me now, sitting here in this office-being inspected for a huge surgery, this mess I'm in.  I'm sunk".

To People Who Give Up, Or Think Of Giving Up...

"You're stronger than you ever thought.  You're more powerful than you, or anyone else, has ever given you credit for.  You are of Grace, and yes...

you are Real".

Today's Weigh-In:

Weight: 242.4

Loss since Last Weigh-In [on November 9th]: 10.0 pounds

Weight Loss since November, 2005: 258.6 pounds

Keep Ridin'... Always

Sometimes you gotta go...

Besides freezing cold and feeling the effects of it [I suppose this is: one part how cold it is here in Minnesota and one part getting/being smaller than I once was], I find that regardless of how much I dress for riding, how hard I pedal and how close prior to exiting the house to ride, I take a leak...

as soon as I am outside [appx. 15 minutes max] I gotta Make Water again.

Never fails.  As soon as I split, I gotta go.  And the going is complicated too: pulling down [just enough to get to the essential relief valve, that is] a pair of pants + 2 pairs of tights + cycling diapers is involved.  Not to mention, taking off the &$%@$#!#! Shooter Mittens.

Taken [quite literally] last night, in the minus temps, on the Greenway at 2am.

**P.S.  This is the kinda blog entry one makes, when one has little to say... but still wants to post an entry nonetheless.  **

 

Hardcore Doggin'...

Rode every night.  Better... I ride every night.

And it's cold.  Rode with BBBB, and the conditions were absolute shit.  But I rode.  And dug it.  Been working hard on relaxing in the Oatmeal Snow [which is a learning curve] but I'm gettin' it.  Slowly, but getting it... down.

Last night was very cold [click for big]:

Couple nights before that, Chloe and me rode... she's completely hardcore and will ride in any weather:

It was 7 degrees, and a windchill of -4... but we were digging it.

The Nokian's are real dogs to ride, and especially so when I'm pulling Chloe:

We just got back in from tonight's ride, and with running the Nokian's at 30psi and pulling Chloe, and riding through Slush/Oatmeal/Hardpack, and clocking in 15 miles total... I am absolutely wasted tired.  I'm quickly learning that riding in this weather isn't about mileage, it's about just digging the vibe, the scenery and the Doing of It.  Pics from tonight's ride [5 degrees and 15mph winds]:

Keep Ridin'... Always!

It's Snowing...

...and I'm watching it snow.

And I'm inside swapping out my Schwalbe Marathons for my Nokian studleys...

after which, I'll be riding in said snow.

This is what Amy & Edward think of the snow...

Welcome to Minnesota.

That is all.

Keep Ridin'... Always