Discouraged Canal Biker

DAY 14
Time: 43.07min going, 38.33min home
Weather: Morning was clear, bit nippy. Afternoon was dark, looming clouds, lightening, thunder, smattering of rain made me ride fast before the bottom fell out.
Pouting on Couch
Am back in the saddle. Skipped 3 days of biking. Not struck by thunder, didn't have flatter tires, didn't fall. Didn't fracture my tibia, fibula, or spare ribbia. Didn't break anything except my pride and will. Pouted on the couch the whole weekend. Soothed bitter soul with lemon sorbet.

On Saturday, after two weeks of committed biking, I jumped on the scale and had officially gained 5lbs./2kilos. Wanted to vomit. Kick bike all the way down the canal. Into canal.

Pile of rusty bikes from other frustrated cyclists removed from canal by cleaning crew

Rabo Mood Sours, Too
Manure smelling mood matched that of the Rabobank Riders weekend Tour performance.The guys weren't even showing up in the wide angle, helicopter shots.

Team Leader Breukink was speaking to all of us when he said, “Their style of riding is not relaxed; they are too anxious and they are trying to force too much. There is no flow. Numerous factors made success in the first week impossible and then the pressure starts to work counterproductively."

Not My Job
The Rabo guys have to ride. Even if/when they don't want to. It's their job. Not my job. Easier to pout and protest to the inner commentator. Mental game. Have no coach, no sponsor and no waterboy.

Nobody is going to jump out of a car, ratchet my rigor mortis bones off the denim sofa and give me a running push start...when I don't feel like it.

Chat with Self
Can I beat or be the inner commentator? Well, I'm not the Dutch Oprah McGraw. Trouble applauding self and my persistently inconsistent daily regimen. Am proud of self on days that I ride. But, cannot combat scale evilness with positive self back patting.

"Oh Tammie, who cares if you gain, you are riding your bike and bringing joy and inspiration with your poetic canal prose and remarkable BlackBerry photography," chortles me to my silly self.

Remarkable Blackberry photography, had to cross little bike bridge and ride on other side of the canal because of the canal cleaners.

Affirmations
In the last few days, heard several supportive affirmations like: body busy building muscle, muscle weighing more than fat, give it another month, and soon you'll see results in your pants and the way you feel. Gag. Boooo. Hiss. Middle pointing finger. And thank you. Really. My gift to you: 5 pounds of pure muscle.

Variations
I do NOT with a capital NOT comprehend the mathematics, chemistry and metabolism involved in me riding more than 100 miles and not losing weight. "Ride faster. Ride slower. Ride further. Switch up your pace. Vary your routine. Swim the canal to work." All very encouraging comments from Marion Freijson, triathlete. She didn't suggest the swim the canal thing, but I know she wanted to.

I'm Just a Girl
I am human, a real girl sometimes. American. I need results. Without results, visible results, I fold and fall apart like a deck of wet cards made out of wet toilet paper being held ever so loosely in a soggy, recycled paper bag.

Can climb the hill, can make the ride in under 40 minutes, can make the effort to write about it no matter how embarrassing. Just need body to respond.

Number who passed me going in: 15
Number who passed me coming home: 5

Number I passed: 4, woohoo. 1 lady stopped to put on raincoat. And, a mom with two kids counts as 3 when I pass.
Bug casualties: 1 suicide eye bomber.

Song of the day: Mustang Sally aka Ride Sally Ride by Commitments with very gay accompanying dance line video instructions.

Convertible Canal Biker

DAY 13
Time: No riding time today.
Weather: Morning, storming. Afternoon, clear.

Thursday night, I bought a 1987 Volkswagen. Purchased with my heart from a young refurbisher, I am now the somewhat proud owner of a 22 year old imported American model VW Cabriolet, read convertible Rabbit.

As I was pulling away, the expensive electronic gate slid shut behind my cheap, old tailgate. Gave it too little gas to get up a little hill, and it died. Really died. It wouldn't start. Nothing, no noise, no choking. Just a dashboard of red lights.

It's Mine Now
Stranded, previous owner was kind enough to come out and mention, "By the way, this happens some times. You have to shake the stick. Or maybe, open the door and push it firmly into Park with your foot." I tried without success to shake and push and shimmey, and not to shoot the finger.

Shake technique
He jumped in, gave it the experienced shake of the stick and it started. Now that I think back, he said, "This only happened a couple of times to me." But he had developed a quite extensive, tried and true technique to get it to start. Not a method you can develop after just 1 or 2 mishaps.

1987 Volkswagen Golf Cabriolet, American Karmann Edition

Top Down, Street Blocked
Parked the car in front of my house on the single lane street. Top down. Neighbors came out to see. Give the thumbs up. Then gawked for the next 45 minutes because it wouldn't start and was blocking the street.

Me Tammie, Me Angry
Texted the previous owner with some really bad, stinging Dutch which probably translated into this: "Jeroen, Me think not fine you not say starting trouble BEFORE. I try 30 minutes for start and nothing. I know not all your tricks. I frustrating and heart pains."

Wiggle and Push
Jeroen, the now wealthy magician, texted back that he was at the movie and I could try to wiggle this and push that. As my dad would say, "I'm going to wiggle and push this size 10 boot up your ass." Or "I'm going to give YOU a wiggle and a push in a minute."

Sigh. Crushed. Pissed. Confidence level in car plummeted without parachute.

Dodging Bullets
Rain pelted down Friday not on me and my bike, but on me inside my runnng Rabbit, and on the Tour de France guys. Felt like a slacker all day because I drove the new car to work. During the race, Rabo Rider Oscar Freire was shot with an air rifle. He kept riding, pellet removed after finish line.

What are my excuses for not riding? Nobody is shooting at me. I don't have to dodge bullets.

Numbers of bikes passed going in: 4
Numbers passed going home: no idea, was talking illegally on the phone.
Song of the day: Radio cassette player in car works sporadically. Didn't work today.

Bought flowers and groceries, supermarket is just 3 minutes on the bike.

Ordinary Canal Biker

DAY 12
Time: 37.45min going
40.59min coming back
Weather: Spectacular, not normal

Extraordinary Gig
To the American audience, this bike riding gig is extraordinary, ha, perhaps. Riding a bike or walking is just not done in Texas. Too hot. And just not enough bike riding going on. No place to ride safely.

Sea of bikes at Utrecht Central Station, if your bike is inside this square, it cannot be removed by the city
Daily Transport Choice
In Holland, biking is a normal, ordinary, daily mode of transport. Holland has 16 million people and 16 million bikes. I have 4, and 75% of the tires are flat. Holland has been infrastructured and planned so that we can ride pretty much ANYWHERE on the bike and on a bike path with no cars.

Common Broohaha
I have settled into my ride now. I am not so physically exhausted everyday. The weather makes this easier too. Taking the bike is just what people do here and I am making a big hoopala uhmpapa broohaha unneccessarily.

Friendly Repeat Biker
Have become so common, predictable, that Pim from Day 10 Friendly Canal Biker surprised me on the big bridge today. Pim found the blog and realized that I was keeping time and counting my overtakers on the canal. Pim was my pacemaker, made sure we rode faster than Monday. Lovely, eh?

Forfeit
About 10 months ago, I tried to ride the canal. Then, I chose the canal path because the bus also follows the canal all the way to work. I thought, if I get tired, I will jump off the bike, lock it and catch the bus.

Quitters Never Win, Winners Never Quit
I did that twice. I got way tired. Stopped twice. I have now passed that point 18 times without stopping. What is extraordinary about that? Back then, I was so tired at this point that I got off my bike, leaned it on the brick wall and quit. In the time trials, this spot is just 10 minutes from my house.

Beat the Bus
Almost sure I can beat the bus to the city center, especially during traffic jam hours. Or at least make it a good race. The bike keeps moving, the bus stops. Cars stop. I may win.


Just Being Normal
I am out of mental game, rodeo clown antics today. I don't have to ride fast everyday. I don't have to write volumes everyday. I can be normal. Ordinary. This is what I do. The Dutch have a saying, "Just be normal, that is crazy enough." I am damn pleased that this crazy idea is becoming normal for me.

Trip in: 11 passed me, I passed 1 ding dong who stopped to get her music.
Trip back: 16 passed me, must have been 0 that I passed or I would have celebrated.
Song of the day: Foundations by Kate Nash

9:00a.m. Leidse Rijn Canal

Giant Canal Biker

DAY 11
Time: 36.54min (PB) going
42.42min coming home
Weather: Perfect.

Keep getting questions about my personal hygiene linked to my bike rides. "Don't you sweat?" and "Is there a shower at work?" and "Do you smell?"

All from females. Guys ask "What kind of bike do you have?" and...well actually that is all guys ask me.

Purple Union Bike
Ladies second. I have a basic, no frills, Dutch brand Union bike. My friend Simone gave me the bike for free when she moved to Australia. Sturdy enough. One gear, or no gears. No hand brakes, pedal brakes. Purple. Not too pretty to steal. What? Someone would steal your bike? No, not this bike.

At first, it was difficult for me to lock my bike when parking in front of the neighborhood grocery store or at the doctor's office. Coming from small town Texas, everybody knows you, your granny, Booger Junior your cousin by marriage and the last time you farted. I thought, "I live with these people. Who's going to steal my bike?"

Dutch learning curve
I've had three bikes stolen in my 13 years here. It is very deflating when your bike is just gone. Didn't you park it right here? Did you take your bike to the train station? Did you walk today? Maybe it's on the other side of this...nuh uh. That's funny. Wasn't it here, right here? Nope. GONE.

Giant Biker
If I had a fantastic bike, I'd just have to worry about when it would be stolen. When I am discovered, and Giant sees my commercial potential, they will want me to ride the new Rabobank Pro Tourbike as a publicity stunt. Me on this bike, a picture of fitness in motion. Very fast motion.



Do I want to be the poster girl for a GIANT anything? I don't want to shop at "Big BiGGER BIGGEST", "Grandios" or "Fatty Tat Tat" for my rain ponchos and biker shorts.

If they donate gear, I may rethink my pride. Support Tammie the Giant Canal Biker. Could I wear this t-shirt? Cringe. You can wear it.

Sorry ladies. I can't talk about sweat and smells because of the possibilities for French deodorant sponsorships. In these tough economic times, more likely that someone like colleagues, will donate a can of spray deodorant, than a Giant TCR Advanced Rabobank bike.

Rockstar Canal Biker

DAY 10
Time: 38min to work (PB), 39min home (PB)
Weather: Gorgeous, helped with 2 new personal bests

Let my numbers speak. I broke 40 minutes to and fro today. Yes I can!
Pedal to the Metal
(previously Peddle to the Medal, where's my editors?)
Am no Albert Einstein, no really, but he came up with some theories that support biking up hills. Before I started up the bridge hill today, I put some gas into it. Built up some speed going into the climb. Not that kind of gas, though some might argue whether human biker gas helps propel the body forward.

Locomotion
What is that law then? Not the gas propulsion law. The law that makes climbing slow even more painful than climbing fast. Climbing fast keeps the momentum, but burns up energy too. Somebody who understands biking, climbing, math or science can figure out how that law of motion works for my benefit or to my demise.

Life in Plastic, It's Fantastic
On the way home, I took turns passing a plastic bottle collector. We recycle plastic in Holland, for free. He didn't look like the kind of feller who was environmentally concerned, or part of a beautification project or just green.

Judge Not, Lest Ye Be Judged
Don't care why he was stopping. He passed me once. I passed him twice. Good for my numbers. May litter my path tomorrow with Coca-Cola light bottles...aka Diet Coke bottles, and hope we cross paths again.

Cruise Control
Had music in my ears today. Same as coal power making steam. Not sure how that energy process works either. Just know that I was comfortable, and nearly on cruise control. People still passed me with pace, so I know it is possible to go faster to work. I don't want to blow a gasket or bust a nut before the weekend. I still have 12 days of Tour de France racing and pacing.

Trip in: 8 passed me, mom packing two kids = 3! I passed 1 guy
Trip back: 5 passed me, I passed same guy twice.
Song of the day: Rockstar by Nickelback

And had some flower power on the last leg with a Volkswagen T2 Camper Van siting

Friendly Canal Biker

DAY 9
Time: 15min to city hall, 45min with new biker buddy
Weather: Not too hot, not too cold, not too anything.

Had to renew Dutch passport today. Biker hair was flying away. Tamed it sooo much for the picture that I looked like the killer card in Old Maid. Photographer said I could not have crazy wild bangs in my face, and must put behind my ear. International, legal passport photo regulations. OH MY. So grateful this will only be in my passport for FIVE years.


Only American in the Village
Traffic and biking is scary in the little village. Not clear who has right-of-way, more based on who is fastest and more ballsy. I am neither. So I decided to ride out the not-so-busy end through the countryside. Not many canals. Next best thing is the castle or the trains.

Heard a train coming and was positioning self with BlackBerry in the air. Older gentleman passed me, possibly narrowly dodging my clothesline wrestler arm. Then he slowed, too. Asked me if I was lost and if was I using my GPS. Not lost. Just trying to take picture for my blog (pic at top of today's post).

Miss Understood
I explained in Kemosabe-Caveman Dutch, 'me Tammie, me make fire', that I was writing about my bike rides. Not his fault, but he understood this, "Me writer. Me ride during the week in Tour de France. Follow Rabobank Team with my bike to work. Support team with my bike on the canal and blog site."

Pim rode with me and talked to me. Let me take his photo. We rode slow. For me, for him. Remember he had aleady passed me once, so more for me. Pim is retired and rides every couple of days just to loosen up his joints. He usually rides 10-15km (7-10 miles) depending on the weather.

Pim, retired biker buddy
A very well-educated man. Perhaps somewhat self-taught or at least has a continuing interest to keep his brain sharp. Pim loves languages. In school he studied Dutch, French, German, English, Greek and Latin. I remember my teachers didn't want me taking French and Spanish in the same semester. The Dutch really excel in language learning.

Figuring out Traffic
Before retiring Pim was a traffic engineer. Made sure cities had traffic flow for cars, lights, pedestrians, crossings and even bike paths and bikers, like Pim and me. Lately, what keeps Pim busy is genealogy. His own family and tracking others. He doesn't trust all the info on the Internet. Prefers solving his own puzzles.

After 45 minutes of deciphering my choppy Denglish sentences, Pim said my Dutch was fine and you really couldn't tell that I was British. American I said. "Oh. You don't sound American." ...nor do I sound Dutch, Pim.

Four Seasons Bike Route, where I rode with Pim


My Tour Break in Holland
As we got close to my home, Pim admitted that he thought IIIIII was riding in the Tour de France behind the Rabo Team. It was my off day and I would be heading back to France tomorrow. To follow the team, on my bike. I would write about it. That was my work.

Probable Pro Cycling Reporter
T'was kind of Pim to give me the benefit of the doubt. Probable that I was a racing journalist. In my bad Dutch, I was claiming to be an on the spot, roving, roaming reporter. Riding along side the pro cycling team on my bald tires, getting out of breath quotes from fallen riders and getting down and dirty in the action with my wee little BlackBerry.

I told Pim, "They are riding 150-200 kilometers a day. I ride 10-20km. Just down the canal. That was enough for me." We laughed. He looked at his watch and said, "We made more than 45 minutes, so we probably made 10km."

Number of people who passed me: 1, just Pim.
Number of people who passed me and Pim: Zero

Confrontational Canal Biker

DAY 7 Saturday, July 11
Time: 44min total to shop & back
Weather: Sunny, insignificant wind.

Took 5 year old to get ice cream, homemade Italian ice cream. And, to buy self a new scale. Tried not to stare at him eating ice cream or feel punished. New scale calculates your body fat and water weight, too. What a bonus, confronting feature.

Big Boned
I always heard "you are just big boned." But, if we add up my fat weight and water weight percentages, we get 97.6 %. Leaving only 2.4% for my bones and hair. All these years I blamed heavy bones. And hairy legs.

DAY 8 Sunday, July 12
Time: 1 hour approx. family ride
Weather: Perfect temp, puffs of wind.

Watched Rabo boys climb and Oscar take third in Stage 9. Then, inspired my own boys to ride the canal, but the other direction. Away from work. Always have to lure them out of the house with ice cream or steak. See the smiles.

Will Ride for Food
We need to get in family mindset that exercise has some benefit. Ride to ride. Not to go get food.

Little 'Nolte Farms' sponsorship

Names in Fries
Snapped pics of the boys on the canal. From the side. From the back. From the front. We stopped at a restaurant and experienced typical slow service. Kept Adam entertained by having him spell family names and Wii games characters with his french fries.

Photo not doctored
Impressionable
On the way back, I gave Niels the camera. Mostly I am headless or conveniently out of shot or focus.

He also took pics from front, side and behind. At angles I cannot reach or get with the BlackBerry. Was confronted with self globally from 360 degrees.

Lessons Learned
Need to ...buy a new, more supportive bra...stick with BlackBerry at arm's length instead of WIDE angles. And, need to...keep riding my bike.

Have library-ed several photos for the BEFORE file, only to be revealed if there is a substantial change in the AFTER files.



Keep the pace
Monday is a day off for the Tour de France and also for me. I am 2 days and more than 1000 miles off the pace. I have made a new commitment to get on the bike and ride every day, even if I am not going to work. If I ride tomorrow, I am just one day down. Must force some changes in exercise plan and water-fat-bone ratios.

Bend in the canal on the way to Harmelen village