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We found 10 result(s) that match your search "bicycling":

One of my scariest trips ever on bicycle was a seven-mile jaunt home from Watertown, Massachusetts to Cambridge in the middle of winter, after dark, on a three-speed commuter with no lights, on a stretch of road which had no street lights but a moderate amount of high-speed traffic. My fingers were freezing despite the warm gloves, and as much (or as little) ambient light as there was from the other side of the river, I found the lights of cars behind me to be a helpful aid as they approached -- but a bane as they passed, leaving me temporarily blinded by their relative brilliance.

 

 

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I've often mentioned that my diabetes role models in someways mirror the "dos" and "don'ts" of "proper (Type 2) diabetes management". When we are presented with a "what not to do" scenario taken from a real person, in real life, we often call that an "object lesson". 

 

While our original plans for last Sunday were to head into the City (New York City, for those who care) to meet up with other members of the Diabetes Online Community, the combination of short finances and The Other Half's ongoing issues with foot pain and the aftermath of his sciatica attack made those plans a "no-go".

 

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Now that the cold weather is here in full swing, getting out and about is as much a struggle of the mind against the elements as it is of the body. Part of it is a matter of peripheral circulation issues; part of it is a matter of equipment and gear. Since the Dolce is a lot more serious a vehicle than the old Excelle was, I need more "technical" apparel to ride it comfortably. In addition to my new headlight and a replacement helmet, my December purchases included a winter cycling jacket, hat and balaclava, a couple of long-sleeved jerseys, a second pair of tights, and some better-fitting shorts.

 

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Thursday, I started with the concept that the standard directions for taking a medication may sometimes cause a person to respond poorly to its intended therapeutic effects, and used that theme to segue into last Sunday's ride to North Brunswick. One of the biggest issues for me in planning a route to the Brunswicks has been that of crossing the Delaware and Raritan Canal. Crossing the canal (more of a river) with anything other than a motor vehicle is a bit tricky -- most of the crossings are either limited-access highways or bridges without any accommodation for cyclists, pedestrians, or non-motorized traffic.

 

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When I pre-registered for the Tour de Cure, the organizer asked me if I'd like to say a few words before setting out. It's apparently the tradition to ask a Red Rider to "rally the troops", as it were, and she offered me the honor since it would be my birthday -- unless, of course, I was too shy to speak.

 

I may be a number of things, but shy about public speaking is not one of them. Give me a microphone and and audience, and I'll ramble on until someone comes with the big hook to pull me offstage. However, trying to figure out what to say might be challenging.

 

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Red and green, the colors of Yule: the poinsettia and the evergreen, the holly berry and the ivy, the winter coats and cycling helmets...

 

Winter coats and cycling helmets????

 

In early on the 11th for my shift, I walked over to the supermarket at the other end of the strip mall to pick up a few things. On the checkout line next to me, I noticed a woman shorter and older than me, wearing a bright red cycling helmet.

 

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only person who cycles to my errands," I said.

 

"It's new," she said, referring to her helmet. "It's red, so I hope they can see me." 

 

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Rather than the bell lap at a local bike race, one is the number of days until my second-ever Tour de Cure ride. 

 

The good news is, I have my bib and helmet number, my VIP wristband, and I've been able to up my goal twice: I'm now aiming for $900.

 

The bad news is, I may have come down with that same sinus infection that put The Other Half out of commission all of last week. I'm hoping it's just a reaction to a whole lot of insect bites which have not been behaving in a typical (for me) fashion, but the effect has been a systemic histamine reaction rather than something that's site-specific: I'm dealing with the whole running nose, watery eye, swollen face and extremities thing.

 

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Unlike "Loch Lomond", there are more than two paths that can take me from my home to my workplace. The one I've been taking is not the shortest, but it is arguably the safest: riding three blocks south to avoid a US highway for most of the journey, then riding back north just before the the shopping center at which I work. Other methods of avoiding the highway include riding north over an overpass and taking one of three roads that go roughly parallel to that highway, and turning onto a twisty, hilly, very busy road straight into the shopping center. The furthest-away of those roads can also be taken one intersection further, leading into a less-twisty (but also narrow and busy) descent, merging into the twisty road just in time to enter the shopping center.

 

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For many Americans, any excuse to get drunk is... well, an excuse to get drunk. Mexican Independence is no exception. (In fact, some years ago, a local bar and grill tried to eliminate the last half of April in favor of a three-week long Cinco de Mayo... but that's another story.) For serious cyclists, any excuse to ride is an excuse to get out onto the open road, feel the wind in one's face, and the speed of madly descending down hills and back up half the next. And for those of us planning to ride the Tour de Cure, it's an excuse for another training ride.

 

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On our first Tour de Cure training ride, I led the "easy" group on eleven miles through the Somerset Hills and the Great Swamp Wildlife Refuge. We were planning to repeat the ride yesterday, but a cold morning scared away many of our "hard-core" riders, leaving me, John (my Team Red Co-Captain), and four other riders, all of whom were looking for something less challenging than the twenty mile "hard" ride. We compromised by riding the 13-mile "hard" ride from the 14th, with John leading and me riding sweep.*

 

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