Yesterday my lungs underwent the first change in the season. After weeks of riding 3+ times a week (1-1.5 hours at 18-19mph average) I literally felt the transformation in my chest -- one moment I'm focusing on the road and the next it feels like the tension is gone from my lungs and it seemed like they had twice the capacity.

Easy breathing has meant an easy 1mph average speed gain over the hilly course and a noticeable reduction in muscle cramping.

Generally I poke around the park at about 18mph which is fast enough to get a workout, but slow enough for a pack to catch me so I can jump on for a few laps. As it turned out, yesterday I was feeling too good to go slow. As I flew around the park I picked up a few stragglers and led a train around the park for almost 4 laps with nobody taking the lead (the draft lines work a little differently on the East Coast -- instead of the leader dropping to the back and rotating like migrating geese, whoever is feeling strong bolts up to the front of the pack and takes over. I was waiting....).

Being at the front of the pack and "feeling no chain" is great, and touches on my theory of the relative *size* of your spirit (you can "hide" in your body or you can project or enlarge yourself beyond the boundaries of your being) -- you can almost *feel* the extra power given to you to keep the train steady by the pushing of those behind you. Of course science will tell you it's the other way around; you're cutting the wind resistance of those behind you and decreasing their energy output needs by up to 30%.

At the front of a pack you are the pilot, it is your job to keep everything smooth and steady -- any big changes in speed could leave everyone (who is just inches from each other's wheels) behind (think cars taking off from a stoplight) or cause a massive pile-up.

You think of all of your movements in terms of a jet airplane, not a car with a 6 speed manual and a clutch -- you see a lane change ahead of you and glide the group into it, you near an incline and drop gears and ease the throttle up a little to maintain speed over it, you increase it one more notch to keep the speed as the grade increases one more step -- knowing that all the horsepower you need is right there for you without any exursion needed.

If you do want to leave everyone in your contrails then you can start thinking in terms of being on the ground, and the traction between your tires and the pavement. From your steady speed drop the gears down two or three sprokets (into higher gears with more resistance), jump out of the saddle, swerve dramatically to the far side of the road (breaking the benefits of the draft for those behind you) and PUT THE HAMMER DOWN. Within 4 pedal strokes you could be doing over 30mph and be gaining distance on the field (depending on how well they react).

Posted by Aaron R. Deutsch at 02:57 PM | Permalink

Recently I was thinking about journaling and how many people make a habit of doing it, but don't tend to think or make much of their journals. They are kept on shelves, tucked under beds, and locked in little chests only to be found post-humus.

Sometimes a journal of a famous politician or army general will be unearthed and used to illuminate life in the past, giving archaeologists clues as to how we once lived, or how important events unfolded in their eyes. But what about life right now?

Many of us may not think of a journal as a creative outlet, but isn't that really what it is? We recall our epic adventures here on earth (and embellish a little at times), struggle over what we think about this life we've made for ourselves and puzzle over how to solve our life's problems. This process, I feel, is just as creative as sitting down to draw a picture, compose a song, or write a poem.

Our journal topics range from the mundane to highly personal. In every event lies a story, a moral, a set of choices or opinions. All of these help us to move forward as individuals.

When we think about who our friends are and why, no matter what the details are, it always boils down to this: these are people with whom we share our experiences with, and to a certain extent, opinions.

By journaling publicly you are really extending your circle of friends, except that some you will never meet or never even know of each other anything other than a tick on a webstats counter.

I'm the first to admit that most of my ideas are nothing new, but for one reason or another, I seemed to think they bore repeating in my journal. Some ideas are juxtapositions of observations, and others are reminders. This, then, is a slightly less stylized creative outlet for me (compared to my other websites), the public journal of Aaron Deutsch.

Posted by Aaron R. Deutsch at 09:25 PM | Permalink