Tractor Balm for Soreness
After six days in a row biking 10–, 15–, 20 miles/day, my wrists, butt, & knees were pretty sore, so I took a day off yesterday.
I'm feeling fine today, but the thing is, while I don't have to be in great shape, I'm seeing (feeling!) just how dough-y I am, and I don't think ten days is going to be enough to get in decent enough shape for a cycle trip up the West Coast--with someone else.
If it was just me, I could go 20 miles/day, but my friend is lighter, younger, and fitter than me, and while she's said she's willing to slow down, I know I'd push myself to go farther, faster--at her speed, not mine.
So, I'm thinking I'll go with Plan B and explore my own state, with the goal of taking a longer trip in six weeks or so, not two.
This coming week, I plan to bike the 24-mile trail to a river town, and have a friend pick me up at the end.
Then I'll try biking it round-trip.
I asked a friend who'd biked across America on the 1976 Bikecentennial (now Adventure Cycling) for tips, and she recommended, among other things, Corona Ointment for sore bums. It's a livestock balm, and you can buy it online at the Tractor Supply Store.
I'm not biking enough mileage to need it (yet?), but I'd like to be able to say I get my supplies from a tractor store.
Sardines for Sadness?
My life feels kinda sore too, and there's no tractor balm for that. Well, there's beer. (And sardines? Do they apply to sadness?)
But the best plan, I learned on Camino, is just to keep going . . . and at my own speed.
This may sound obvious (?), but it's comforting to me to remember that the road keeps going, and, as this Camino graffiti says, going at your own speed is best.
This can include sitting still and letting other people walk––or bike–– on by.
After six days in a row biking 10–, 15–, 20 miles/day, my wrists, butt, & knees were pretty sore, so I took a day off yesterday.
I'm feeling fine today, but the thing is, while I don't have to be in great shape, I'm seeing (feeling!) just how dough-y I am, and I don't think ten days is going to be enough to get in decent enough shape for a cycle trip up the West Coast--with someone else.
If it was just me, I could go 20 miles/day, but my friend is lighter, younger, and fitter than me, and while she's said she's willing to slow down, I know I'd push myself to go farther, faster--at her speed, not mine.
So, I'm thinking I'll go with Plan B and explore my own state, with the goal of taking a longer trip in six weeks or so, not two.
This coming week, I plan to bike the 24-mile trail to a river town, and have a friend pick me up at the end.
Then I'll try biking it round-trip.
I asked a friend who'd biked across America on the 1976 Bikecentennial (now Adventure Cycling) for tips, and she recommended, among other things, Corona Ointment for sore bums. It's a livestock balm, and you can buy it online at the Tractor Supply Store.
I'm not biking enough mileage to need it (yet?), but I'd like to be able to say I get my supplies from a tractor store.
Sardines for Sadness?
My life feels kinda sore too, and there's no tractor balm for that. Well, there's beer. (And sardines? Do they apply to sadness?)
But the best plan, I learned on Camino, is just to keep going . . . and at my own speed.
This may sound obvious (?), but it's comforting to me to remember that the road keeps going, and, as this Camino graffiti says, going at your own speed is best.
This can include sitting still and letting other people walk––or bike–– on by.