Today is a red-letter day for me in terms of fitness and goals. It was 2 years ago when my employer moved down here when I vowed to make it work for me, somehow. I already had the tools and I just needed to reach down and let out the intensity and determination. I don't feel that I'm any better than anyone other than my former self. This is all about the internal struggle. Every day that I ride is a day further from the 180-pound waste of space on my parents' couch during freshman winter break. I am glad my brother has proof in the form of a photo and has circulated it because it shows how hard I've worked to divorce myself from that lifestyle. It's a blessing and a curse because I'm ready to move on to better opportunities and hopefully they'll be a little closer to Penn (or home).
Tunes from Van Halen's Balance start me on the ride today. I'm glad I never sold this because thanks to Chickenfoot, I enjoy Sammy's wailing again. "Amsterdam," and "Big Fat Money" were the choice picks. I always loved the riff of the former, however, I can see how Eddie wanted more meaningful lyrics. I don't need songs about booze they run dry pretty quickly. You'll almost never see me go wild at a concert for a song about alcohol, and I'd be largely disgusted with myself if I did. Then the Best of Volume I kicks off with "Runnin' With the Devil" and "Ain't Talkin' Bout Love." Best of both worlds, eh? I sing "Runnin's" chorus aloud at the WFCs and crossing Albany Street in a Pat Boone-type voice. I wonder if anyone who passed me had the song stuck in their heads today.
I'm still moving quite fast. I feel good -- my right side, which had been bothering me a little is not an issue anymore and I can attribute that to rest and some changes in my ergonomics. I have a non-contact boxing class today that should be a good workout.
I don't think I can pull out another 50 round trips by the year's end. Between weekends, holidays, forced time off, after-work events and weather concerns, I'd really be pushing it. Possible, but unlikely.
Ultimately, the 300 trips equal at least 2,100 miles and $1,200 saved (based on a $4 a day habit, the fare increase of '09 and the absence of an unlimited monthly notwithstanding. If you factored those in, I estimate that it may be at least $1,400 to start with.) I'm happier with the money, the experience, the confidence and the mileage. The riding put me in the frame -- physically and mentally -- to prepare for the triathlon, which was yet another milestone. It's not like I had to first lose a ton of weight to get in shape for that -- it was more about the pacing than anything else. This keeps me in check. I can see and feel the difference when I do not ride for more than a few days.
I could go on and start to sound like a braggart. I'm proud of the accomplishment because no one put me up to it and I am not underground on the 2/3 train. But I am not special (and I promise I remind myself of this aloud many times a day) -- anyone could do this. Spend a few hundred bucks for the bike and some quick modifications and do it. The day that my physical health is no longer a concern is the day I have thrown in the towel. I don't want that sagging gut that a lot of guys with sedentary lifestyles have. I'm happier working harder to keep it off than to relax and let it happen. There will be other events like the TOBAY that need to be completed for a sense of self-satisfaction. Those are fleeting feelings, too, and I want more than that. I wish I could make a living doing this.
I expected the ride home to be tougher because that boxing class was a killer, but I had an earlier train to catch for an important appointment and hustled (and I drank half a box of coffee) -- I'm not sure that I stopped at too many lights. It all happened so fast. At Canal Street a police funeral procession was about to begin as I passed by.
Today was round trip #300 but tomorrow is slated to be #301. I'll keep doing this as long as I'm down here (and beyond, though who's to say the benefits will be as great?).
Thank you for reading.
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