It's like Mr. Met. Sure, he's goofy, but you still need to call him "Mister."

[digitaldiscipline]

Pending some administrative folderol, yesterday's ten hours in the stationary bike saddle will render unto yours truly the title of Sir, Knight of Sufferlandria.

Here's what yesterday's menu looked like, beginning at about 0645 (parenthetical notes are from our coach; numeric notes are ride length without/with the 10 minute recovery before the next one):

1) Blender (100/110)
2) The Rookie (55/65)
3) The Wretched (48/58)
4) A Very Dark Place (51/61)
5) Power Station (nice break here) (50/60)
6) Angels 2015 (56/66)
7) Nine Hammers (55/65)
8) Hell Hath No Fury (this will be the worst part of the day) (75/85)
9) Do as You're Told (47/57)
10) The Best Thing in the World (48/58)


The rest of my cohorts, save two, began with "Rookie" and ended with "Blender," but I wanted/needed to get the earlier start so as to have the extra recovery before playing in my rec league championship game last night (Sadly, we came up on the short end of the score sheet, but the look on the ref's face was priceless when he asked why my stickwork in net was sloppier than usual. "I biked a hundred and some miles today." "Well, shit, if I did that, I wouldn't be here!" "And here I am.")




My FitBit kinda freaked out, and only recorded the first six hours as an "activity" (honestly, I probably just had my wrist pinned back at just the wrong angle after 5:45 in the saddle while catching a breather and it pressed the watch button), but at least the calorie graph tells the whole gory tale. Yes, playing goalie is hard fucking work from an aerobic/anaerobic standpoint in a completely different way than skating out is, where it's one minute on, two minutes off.

If someone had told me that I'd cycle a hundred miles or so in a single day, much less still have anything at all in the tank afterward, I'd probably have scoffed. As it stands, I've got tight calves and equipment I need to discharge from my garage before I can lift again and a ferociously tight arch in my right foot this morning, but I've also got the glow of doing something kind of nuts with friends and that's gonna help get through the next thing, whatever it is.

The scale also told an interesting story - 194.0 at bedtime friday, 191.6 upon waking saturday, and 193.3 with sneakers and shorts throughout the ride, save for an hour and a half 3/4 of the way through where I bumped up to 194.2. Hydration and electrolytes/carbs was handled drinking 24oz of Chaos & Pain's Mercury or GAT's JetMass (each were supplemented every second drink with C&P's BCAA complex); it remained so flat that i got on the scale with one of my cats in hand to make sure it hadn't gone into "stop checking your weight compulsively, it's not changing" mode. bumped up a pound when i flagged, then started sweating heavily again for the last two rides. (maybe taking a midday multivitamin was better in theory than practice?)

Woke up this morning, down three pounds from yesterday morning. Breakfast was a cup of coffee and an entire pizza. :-)

Comments

[etcet.livejournal.com]

My Knighthood application essay is .... suitably colorful.

--------------------

I shouldn't be allowed to go too long without pushing a limit, surgery mere weeks ago be damned. So, when some of the other folks with whom I train, under the tutelage of Complete Human Performance, floated the idea of pursuing Knighthood, I cautiously tossed my hat in the ring.

Then our head coach reached out to charities. And put up an official sign-up spreadsheet. And an official event page (http://www.completehumanperformance.com/donations/knights-sufferlandria-charity-event/).

... and by that point, it was too late to do anything but Suffer.

Before embarking on this dark, painful, and revelatory journey, I had put in a total of *four hours* on my bike/trainer by way of preparation (Blender twice, and AVDP once); I'm a lifter and a runner, not a cyclist. Initially, I had planned to ride on my back patio, but the forecast was for persistent and occasionally heavy rain - fine for the rider, hellish for the electronics. So, adjustments needed to be made, and made they were:

https://twitter.com/etcet/status/710950985884114944/photo/1

All that remained was to mount up, spin up, and suck it up. After churning through Blender (and, to get meta here for a second, a huge thank you to whoever dropped "kill hippie disco" into that soundtrack when they did; I have developed a Pavlovian KILL IT WITH STOMPING response to that track after 35 minutes of derpy alt rock and interval horror, even if I, The Sufferlandian, somehow finish SECOND in that event), the rest of my cohort came online via Skype, and rode the next nine videos together, getting progressively less chatty as we went, hurrying off for hydration and fresh body glide between them.

My dad, a retired marathoner, looked at me approvingly, and like I was nuts. I couldn't really argue with his assessment, but was profoundly jealous he got to be a Couchlandrian (ARMY OF DARKNESS was airing!) and even took a midday nap, just to rub it in. My cats, likewise, were not an ideal support cadre.

But, I had given my word, and solicited donations, and, by fuck, I was going to churn through.

At some point, I'm going to have to try and do Hell Hath No Fury with my eyes open, because by the time it came down on me like the Tenth and Eleventh Hammers as my 7th ride of the day, I was a husked-out shell, struggling to provide any kind of effort change when the cadence cues hit. And then the light began to glimmer at the end of the Suffering tunnel. Do As You're Told seemed like it was over in minutes, and then it was a glorious sprint to the precipice of glory, flanked by nothing but Sufferlandrians (and perhaps a woefully lost Couchlandrian) for The Best Thing In The World as the denouement.

... and then I had to stand up, wring myself out and get to a hockey game. As goalie. Because trying to tie on ice skates and have people fire pucks at you for an hour after being chewed up and spat out by the inexorable gears of pride and achievement is something else to which I had committed myself.

I don't think it's *exclusively* the blood loss and fatigue making me consider a commemorative tattoo of the achievement.

Further story links, from the KoS FB page, posted by myself and folks with whom I pursued it:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/522671651153986/permalink/966680290086451/
https://www.facebook.com/groups/522671651153986/permalink/966655890088891/
https://www.facebook.com/groups/522671651153986/permalink/966613186759828/
https://www.facebook.com/groups/522671651153986/permalink/966425036778643/
https://www.facebook.com/groups/522671651153986/permalink/966425016778645/
https://www.facebook.com/groups/522671651153986/permalink/964415773646236/

[ivy]

Hahaha, yeah, I have to correct the Fitbit all the time, but that's pretty entertaining as a graph. Glad you survived it and that everything went basically well, Sir Knight!

[etcet.livejournal.com]

i thought i started a subsequent workout session, but may not have had a hell of a lot of brains at that point in the proceedings.

[thebigpants.livejournal.com]

Wows.

[etcet.livejournal.com]

it was definitely A Thing