17.91 miles; 1:10:55; Max: 26.28; Avg.: 15.15
I think this is what I meant by Fatty Fat Loser. Okay, I was never that big. Or close to it. Baby Mama says I’ve just been skinny the whole time I’ve known her. Fair enough. The important thing to note is that guy keeps it at 55km/h on every ride. Up hill or on the flats. He’s actually one giant quadricep.
So, today I started working on intervals. Since I’m usually strapped for sunlight by the time I go for my rides, I’m confined to this 1.5 mile stretch of road in an industrial park that’s pretty well lit and leads to LP Field, where I can do laps. Today, I started on my intervals. And I think I messed them up.
That’s okay, I guess. I meant to do Power Intervals, or 3 minutes of maximum effort. Instead, I did Fast pedaling…which is close but not what I meant to do. I did five 3.5 minute high-cadence drills—between 115 and 130 rpm in a moderate gear: 39x16-15.
It worked like this: I warmed up for about 10 minutes at around 65-75 rpm, did some laps, accelerated some, got nice and warm. Then I started my first effort. Each effort I took about 45 seconds to get up to my high cadence, and then held it for the rest of the effort. Then, I turned around, pedaled around around 65-75 rpm back to the stadium and did it again.
But, I added another workout to the ride back. I did me some Stomps. Stomps are by far the most fun I’ve had so far during the Month of Pain. You select a pretty tough gear—I chose 53x14-15, and slow to a stop, then you accelerate hard for 10-15 seconds until you wind out the top of the gear. You let your legs recover for about 10 minutes before starting another.
The most noticeable thing about riding on this stretch of road is the smell. Earlier in the Spring, a company started excavating their parking lot and have since left a giant crater in the earth and they now have to continuously pump waste water out of it. On that section of road, it smells like riding through Louie Anderson’s underwear. And that got me thinking about other bad smells.
Dead bodies smell bad. Not because they’re decomposing or because they have feces on them (well, partly those things), but there are gases that are released through the skin and esophagus that are particularly overwhelming. Today, we had a body come to us from about three hours away. He had already been dead for several hours before the transport, and he sort of just stewed in his own gases in the back of a warm van for the whole ride. You put a sheet over him and it mostly blocks the smell, but the smell is always there. Even when you go home. It’s bizarre (and sad) how many smells are similar to good smells. But it’s like listening to a cover band. It’s either just not the real thing or it’s so much not the real thing it stinks. I can’t really smell barbecue, vinegar, or really anything in the kitchen without thinking of dead bodies. You’d think that would make me sick or gag or hate my job. But you’re wrong. Maybe I’m a sociopath, but I just turn off that part of my brain that links the two and I’m fine. Or maybe I don’t turn it off and I just can’t be bothered by bad smells. I don’t know. I’m sure I haven’t smelled the worst yet.