Agh. Reality rears its ugly head once again. I am no longer a snowbird but a jailbird, locked in a cell of my own making, which is to say I’m back at work for VeloNews.com, posting stories about cycling instead of cycling my own bad self. Oh, the humanity.
Ten Thousand Waves was a treat as always, and I wished that I could have spent ten thousand years there, but without money there are no vacations and without work there is no money, so there you have it. But it’s a rude awakening nonetheless.
Turkish — a.k.a. The Turkinator, Turkenstein, Big Pussy, Mighty Whitey, et al. — was confused and displeased by my sudden reappearance at dinnertime and took a while to reacquaint himself with the luxury of the Large Irish Lap. Which, I might add, is a little less luxurious after 240 miles of roadwork — I’m down to 172.5 pounds, which for me is positively svelte. I bet it only takes me a trip and a half to haul ass now.
Miss Mia Sopaipilla, clearly smarter and braver than her big brother, instantly remembered who I was and marched right up to me for an ear rub while Turk’ pussyfooted around with a look of distrust on his whiskered mug. But eventually he came around and I was able to scratch his big shovel-shaped head without losing a finger.
Naturally, Herself recognized me straight away as the profligate swine who has been causing the Visa card to smoke like a poorly tuned diesel for the past couple of weeks. But she forgave me and even cracked a bottle of The Prisoner to celebrate my return. That rascal will rattle your cage at 15.2 percent alcohol by volume.
And so will clocking in at the old license-plate factory after 12 days on the road. Hey, screw, call my lawyer! I don’t belong in here … I’m innocent, I tell ya!
Mad Blog Media 
Hey Pat,
Congrats on getting down to 172. I’m jealous for sure. Just curious what had your weight gone up to? I’m 6’1″, 255 and not very pleased with myself at the moment. I’ve purchased a couple of your Fat Guy jerseys in 2xl and unfortunately they fit well. The weather is supposed to be better later this week so I’ll be back on my bike then.
Pat: Welcome home…..and back to the salt mines!! W/O the Margaritas! JD
Hey, Doug,
I hadn’t been charting my weight for quite a while because our old scales were too flighty — I could register 10 pounds plus or minus just by leaning forward or backward. When I dislocated my left middle finger in mid-November the medicos told me I was in the mid-190s, but that was fully dressed, so that’s not much of a baseline. BTW, I’m 6 feet tall on the nosey, and anything approaching 200 pounds does not look that good on my frame, so I most definitely feel your pain.
We got an accurate digital scale in February, after I’d already logged 575 miles in the new year, and it told me 178.5 pounds when I had been guesstimating 180. Now, at 1,356 miles in late March, I’m down a further 6 pounds but considerably slimmer, which tells me I’ve rearranged my physique a tad — I note more muscle in the legs and less fat, particularly around the midsection. I can wear a pair of jeans that required a shoehorn not all that long ago, and have reclaimed a notch or two on the belt.
Most of my miles have been low-intensity fat-burners, with occasional anaerobic forays into the hills. My Arizona trip was mostly at the fat-burning level, long, slow distance in the three-hour-plus-range, and I cut back on snacks and various types of grain- and grape-based brain eraser, which I’m sure contributed to the weight loss. I also geared down significantly, from a 53/39 chainring to 50/34 with a 12-25 cassette, and at the same time shortened my crankarms to 172.5mm from 175mm, which let me spend more time spinning instead of mashing. I really noticed the difference.
Plus I wasn’t sitting around much. I was either making or breaking camp, riding the bike, walking or sleeping. Positively nomadic. Maybe Ed Abbey was right and we were meant to be hunter-gatherers on the dodge all the time instead of parked in one place.