Mr. Roboto

Dennis DeYoung of Styx spoke truth when he had Mr. Roboto say, "Machines dehumanize." I saw this so plainly as I pulled up to the intersection of 4100 South and Redwood Road on my bike the other day. I looked out at the two rivers of asphalt crossing each other creating a space that is inhospitable for man, woman, or child.

This space we call a road is not built for people. It is built for machines. It is built for cars. Particularly when you see the near freeway scale of many roads. Even when there is a shoulder, these speedways seem incompatible with all but the most intrepid interloper. I can clearly see that a bicycle is not the purpose for which these roads were built, even though a bicycle has the same right to inhabit the roads as those inhuman behemoths that more typically do so. And a pedestrian seems to have no business whatsoever even taking the sidewalks that act as shoulder on these roads.

As I was thinking about this dehumanizing, I was caused to remember that my daily commute is immediately impacted by it, but I've come to accept that impact as normal and unavoidable. I do not ride Redwood Road between 9000 South and somewhere in North Salt Lake. It's just not worth the risk. I take a five km detour that adds to an otherwise 8 km commute whenever I take my bike. The section -- just over 1 km -- that I would have to ride on the direct route is just not worth the cost of my life to use. There are seven lanes of traffic that run curb-to-curb at a 40 MPH speed limit, which in Utah usually means minimum speed. Although I am entitled to take as much of the right-hand lane as I need to cycle safely, there are hundreds of cars that would pass me during this stretch who are not aware of that fact, and would just as soon push me off the road as look at me. That's definitely dehumanized.

I compare this with riding the Jordan Rive Parkway Trail with friends. While the asphalt is the same, the entire atmosphere and purpose are humanizing. On days when the sun shines, you interact with pedestrians, cyclists, skaters, families on picnics, an entire cross section of humanity. And you interact. People wave, say hello, or at least smile as you approach. I find myself sending greetings to those I pass. There are trees, a river -- by Utah standards -- and life all around. Unfortunately, I cannot take this route regularly. It massively increases my ride time and lowers my speed. Usually I'm in a hurry to get to work or to get home. So, I compromise.

I usually find roads of three lanes or less. I look for the less travelled. I hunt for roads lined with homes. I look for lower speed limits. I find that I have a better chance of survival on these. If there is a shoulder, then I'm even better. By doing this I've been able to create several commute routes between my work and home that are safe for a cyclist. I stick to these.

Now, routes that I consider safe for taking my daughter in a trailer are another post for another day. Those are even fewer and harder to find, but I'll rant about that later.

Eye in The Sky

"…I can read your mind." Or, at least, I would like to think I can. When you're on the road, I can ascribe all my worst prejudices against you, especially when I'm on my bike and have time to think about it.

I mean you, the cyclists who rode past me without even waving or nodding. Talk about stuck up. You don't even have time to acknowledge your peers. Plus, I'm better than you -- trust me, I can just tell -- so my waving to you was a massive step down the social ladder anyway. At least return it, you snobs.

I mean you, the lady who keeps backing out of her driveway right as I come up. Oh, wait, you're pretty cool. Two days in a row, you've seen me and waited for me to pass rather than thinking that you could jump in front of the cyclist. I think good thoughts about you.

But I definitely mean you, the SUV who just had to jump in front of me this morning. Then it took you a good while to get up to speed and I almost caught you. Just go ahead and burn your fossil fuels, secure in your metal cocoon without worrying about the world around you.

I mean you, Volvo driver. Oh, do I mean you. You were entitled to get through that yellow light, weren't you?I'm sure that you actually deserved the green light, but it was taken from you by fate. If you're lucky Obama will figure out a way to make that right for you.  You'll get a tax cut for every documented green light that you miss. Just go ahead and take that out of my taxes, why don't you? You just had to push it, sneaking up behind the biker, then you just had to get in front of me to turn right across my path. Wow, I'm glad that worked out for you. I'd be even more upset at you if you hadn't accelerated so quickly to get far enough ahead of me that I didn't have to hit my brakes to avoid you. At least you did that, you little entitled  entitler.

Okay, the three walking grannies get a pass. I can figure that they were in deep conversation with each other and didn't have time to interrupt that for a rapid cyclist who was giving them a wide berth. I'll be kind to the grannies.

But the rest of you, be careful. I can see your worst possible intentions and hold those against you for upwards of 30 minutes before my mind becomes so wrapped up in more important matters that you become an insignificant part of my past, never to be remembered again. Until you reappear in my path.

Ma Musique, Mon Bicicle

A strange creole song that was playing on part of my ride yesterday provides today's title.

It's official. Spring is here. I know this because I have now commuted once from work and once back. For me, that seems to be the official start of Spring. Forget the calendar and all that other stuff. It's when I finally get the bike out. And this week is it!

I was amazed at how much of riding a bicycle has become automatic for me. I guess that every season I figure that I'll have to re-learn how to shift, and how to get a good cadence, and how to climb a small hill, and how to work with traffic, and so many other things. However, I was absolutely amazed at how much my brain has stored at a subconscious level that comes right back when I hit that saddle and clip in. It took me longer to remember how to use my bike computer than to instinctively react to the sound of traffic coming from behind. And, my bike computer is pretty easy to use.

As for the commuting, I remembered everything that I needed for a week of bike commuting, except for the case for my glasses. Fortunately, they can ride in a jersey pocket on their own. But the case makes it easier to put other things in with them without worry of scratching the lenses. What's on the list?

1. Lunches for the week.

2. Clothing for the week.

3. Bike clothes and gear for the ride home.

4. Glasses case

5. Bike

6. Lock

7. Computer

With all that I can make it for a week. I drive everything in on Monday morning, then ride the bike for the week, then take it all home on Friday evening in the truck. This way works for me because I need to drive for work more during the week than I do at home, and I don't like carrying a backpack every day with my stuff in it.

Welcome to bike commuting season.

Looks Like We Made It

In a notable old-school twist, I blog about life before bikes with a song that existed before I knew bikes. I refer of course to running a 5k, and the Barry Manilow classic.

I supported Nicole today by running the Salt Lake City Marathon 5k. I know, it's a terrible name. But, what are you going to do? The Salt Lake Marathon Bike Tour is a more elegant name (well, no it's not) for a more elegant event. Let me explain; no there is not time. Let me sum up.

I don't hurt that badly. I believe that is due to my unbelievable training program. I registered for this weeks ago, then just woke up this morning and thought, "I'm going to run a 5k." No running in between. I'd recommend that as a training regiment for any cyclist who attempts running. Cross-train on the bike, then just do the run. I recommend this for a few reasons.

Reason 1: running takes you off the bike. That is bad. Time on the bike is good. So, train on your bike. The same heart rate zones apply off the bike as on. The same cardio base applies. The same basic muscle groups apply. So, why get off the bike? Just grab a heart rate monitor and keep in the zone you've learned from cycling you can support and you'll do fine.

Reason 2: running will break your body. Two of Nicole's friends suffered fairly serious foot problems while training for this run. One suffered a Jones fracture, the other foot pain that stopped her from running for a week, and is still felt today. I've never had this while cycling. Butt pain? Sure. But that goes away quickly, and you can play through it. Chafing? Running causes that as much as cycling, and the same solutions apply. Saddle sore? Just keep clean and they never appear.

Returning to Saturday's run: While riding the train from the parking area to starting line, I saw the elegant bicyclists flying down the street toward their destination. Wow, they looked good! Poetry in motion. However, in an attempt at fairness, the cyclists who failed to make the cutoff time and were riding amidst the runners -- I have no pity on them -- were most often riding squeaking, rattling contraptions that begged for maintenance or euthanasia.

I did enjoy running with my wife while pushing my daughter. It was a kind of family togetherness. I found that my natural stride is just off from Nicole's, however. When jogging, I was slightly faster than her, and while speed walking I was just slower than her jog. So, I ended up with a combination pace, or wog as I call it. I'd jog until I'd get a few meters ahead, then walk until I was a meter or two behind, then repeat for 5 km. I discovered, as a result of this strange pacing, that the gearing on a bike makes it far easier for a group of friends to stick together for a distance. One can run a higher cadence while another pushes a harder gear, but they can stay together. While running you are pretty much on your own.

While I survived a 5k run, and will do one more this year -- the Salt Lake Komen Race for the Cure in support of my sister-in-law -- I am still a cyclist. Even when I haven't ridden for weeks or months at a time, I am still a cyclist. I have defined myself: I ride a bike. I'll watch my wife cross the finish line at other events, and encourage her to train, but I will continue to cycle.

Feels Like the First Time

At the start of every season there's a first ride when you re-fit your saddle to your bike's saddle. That happened tonight! Just when I thought I'd be doomed to wait for several more weeks to clip into my pedals again, I was able to take a ride on the Jordan Parkway trail with a neighbor, Chris, and his son, Jared.

Let me start off by stating that it's been far, far, far too long since I've mounted a saddle and ridden. You can judge me for the time off the bike, if you want, but don't judge me for my lack of speed. I didn't say it was a race, I just said it was a ride.

I rode with these friends almost 30 km in just under two hours. Not terribly fast, but it was a fun ride with conversation as we rolled down a nearly deserted trail. Now, I don't want anyone to think that cycling is suffering. I think it's more that the temperatures were barely above freezing, and the sun was going down after an overcast day. So, on this near empty trail, we traveled along, me with Beth in tow through mud, across gravel, and dodging water puddles.

Beth quite enjoyed watching Little Einsteins on my iPhone while riding along in her enclosed Chariot Child Transport System trailer. I enjoyed the scenery and burn in my legs as I pulled along my extra 10 kilos and the 22 kilos of girl and trailer. I figure that if I can do a ride with that extra, then riding solo will be significantly easier.

I got the time to ride because Nicole needed time to prepare a talk she'll be giving at the BYU Women's Conference at the end of the month. So, she kicked both Beth and me out of the house. I was glad to have Chris and Jared to ride with.

Now, the only minor dilemma was that our new neighbor pulled up to his house with a washer and dryer in his truck as I was rolling out. I felt a little guilty riding away while he was working; however my conscience was quelled when Chris said that given a choice between riding and moving someone, he'd choose riding. He's been a Bishop, so I figured I was okay to go riding.

Now I think that I may be off to watch Beth and Malisa's kids while she runs with Nicole to get in some training for the 5k that I'm going to run. On Saturday. This Saturday. When did babysitting become training?

Running on Empty

I'm going to run a 5k. On Saturday. This Saturday. This is a problem. Let me tell you why. I mean beyond the fact that it involves running.

I haven't trained. At all. I've done about five sessions on the NordicTrack all winter. I haven't actually run since —  well, since I don't even remember. I haven't been on my bike since whenever I put up the last post that actually talked about biking. So, I'm off to run a 5k.

I blame my wife. Not for the lack of training, but for getting me into this whole mess in the first place. She talked all fancy to me, and I got confused. She convinced me that I'd have tons of fun with her on this little run. She also convinced me that I wouldn't enjoy the Salt Lake City Marathon Bike Tour that goes on at the same time. I must be a sucker for my wife. I mean, I know two people who are doing the bike ride. That sounds fun.

Or maybe I should blame my wife's friend (and somehow my friend as well) who talked my wife into doing this run. Somehow that friend convinced me that I should think about doing a triathlon — like other of her friends had been doing — and running a 5k would round out my experience in preparing for one. After I sent in the registration, I remembered that I enjoy biking, and I enjoy swimming. I don't enjoy running. Maybe I should have countered that I'd try a duathlon. Or that I'd do a team triathlon with my wife doing the running and me doing the biking. In retrospect those would have been good answers, but I didn't think of them at the time. So, I'm going to run a 5k. On Saturday.

On a related side note, Nicole had sworn off the Salt Lake City 5k (this very race) after she did it a few years ago because of the abysmal handling of the cattle-chute of a finish line. Now she's running it again. And she's wrangled me in as well.

I must be insane.

So, now that it's too late to train, I guess I'll just need to taper, like all the good training guides say to do, so that I'm ready to run on Saturday. And, since it's too late to back out now, I'm going to run a 5k. On Saturday. This Saturday.

I'll be, as Jackson Browne says, running on empty, and running behind. At least Saturday should be good weather for a bike ride. Oops, make that a short run. If I'm still alive after the 5k, I may post my post-run comments. Maybe.