Help Me Name My Bike!!

So I was talking to Pharmie a few weeks ago, and we were discussing my nameless tri bike. We were trying to figure out an appropriate name (it’s been all the rage in the blog world lately). She asked me what sex it was. I told her that my bike seems to be female - I’ve always thought her to be a woman. Then she asked what feminine or masculine characteristics it has. Here’s where the debate got interesting.

I’ve never had any problems with my bike. She shifts well, she breaks well, and she hasn’t even had a SINGLE flat! I put over 1,200 miles on her last year (including 4 events) without one issue. She’s solid. She’s not moody. She’s strong and a little on the heavy side. She doesn’t put up with crap or beat around the bush. She doesn’t have expensive taste (I mean, just look at those cheap-ass areo-bars and factory wheels). She’s no typical woman. She has many masculine characteristics. So talking with Pharmie, I had this realization:

“Ya know, I think my bike is a lesbian.”

There, I’ve said it. My bike has an alternative lifestyle. I think her parents put too much pressure on her as a little tricycle, and when she grew up and went off to college, she discovered herself. It was a glorious day!! My bike was no longer living a lie!!

(I’m not trying to be insensitive to the homosexual community. I live and work in the Arts, and I have gay and lesbian friends. As usual, this is all in good fun. No harm intended.)

To make a long story short: My bike has the soul of a 40-something, 220-pound, hairy, plaid-wearing lesbian lumberjack (most likely with a mullet). Can you offer any name suggestions to go along with that description?? The person who comes up with the final name that I choose gets a prize*. Seriously. Please help!


* Prize TBA. It may or may not suck. No promises.

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Conversation With Pharmie

The following is an actual conversation that Pharmie and I had last night before bed:

Pharmie: GROSS! I thought you threw these away! What are they doing ON THE NIGHTSTAND? Where did they come from?

Steve: I was taking out the trash yesterday, and they just popped out to say ‘hi,’ so I thought I’d take their picture.

Pharmie: Yeah, I’m sure they just ‘popped out to say hi!’ And why do you need their picture... You’re not putting it on your blog, ARE YOU!?!?

Steve: Sure, why not? I need a dime and my camera...

Pharmie: YOU ARE NOT!! What will people think?!? That’s gross!

Steve: Oh come on, that hasn’t stopped me before.

Pharmie: Are you going to tell them they were from plantar warts?!?

Steve: Sure, why not? **click** (photo being taken)

Pharmie: GROSS!!

Pharmie: Now get the cats over here - they can eat those.

Steve: What... really!?! Here Kermit, here Ella...

Pharmie: NO, NOT REALLY!! THROW THOSE THINGS AWAY!!


(I thought I saw 2 plantar warts forming a month ago on the bottom of my right foot. So I used those wart remover pads that basically slowly burn off the warts. When I stopped using them, all the skin around them peeled off a week later. Those are the “skin chips” you see above. Don’t worry, I didn’t feed them to the cats.)

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Last Week’s Interval Workout

Sorry... it’s been a while... Pharmie and I MAY have just purchased a home, and (who’d of thought) there’s lots of paperwork involved.

Anyway, may first treadmill interval workout last week went well. I was able to push those little buttons while running and NOT fall on my face - a minor miracle. And, on top of not biffing it in public, my knee was OK. Mission accomplished.

I took a post-it note, wrote down what I thought I wanted to do for about 3/4s of the run, and then I filled in the rest with what I actually did near the end. I ended up going 3.26 miles in 28 minutes doing 1 minute intervals, fast then slow. Here’s the photo of my post-it on the treadmill after I was done:

I was trying something new when running that my PT had suggested. All of my leg exercises have been to strengthen my hip and butt in order to keep me from having all of that hip drop. I was also told to start running while “realizing my abs and my glutes.” I think I was doing that, but I’m not sure. What does running look like when you have fully “realized” your ass? That phrase scares me. If there’s one thing that crappy movies have taught me (Terminator 3, iRobot, etc.) it’s that once something becomes self-realized, IT TAKES OVER. I don’t want my ass to be in control of me. You’d see me running in the streets, crying like a baby, squealing, “My ass is making me do it! Someone make it stop! Make it STOP! Just kill me! Somebody, for the love of God, JUST KILL ME!!”

I don’t want to be controlled by mister stinky brown eye. God help me.

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Got the Green Light

I just had another PT appointment with Margi, and she told me to try running 3 days a week. My knee is far from perfect, but we've decided to give it a little test. And she thinks the Apple Duathlon in Sartell, MN in May would be another good test, so hopefully I'll be giving that a go.

I'm headed home shortly to try an interval treadmill workout. It'll be my first set of intervals on a treadmill. I've never done one before. In high school, I was only 1 of 2 guys on our track team that actually enjoyed intervals. I was an 800 runner, so we did 12 - 16 200-meter intervals in about 28 to 30 seconds with 60 seconds in between. Today, I'll warm up on the treadmill, and then just bump it up and down every minute or so. We'll see how it goes. I'm not that coordinated, so hitting buttons while running at a decent clip may prove disastrous. I'm nervous....

Currently, I'm enjoying the slight all over muscle burn from my GREAT lifting workout yesterday. It had been a while since I had a really good workout. Shortly, all of my lifting over the winter will be for naught: I remember around May of last year, Pharmie commented on how small my biceps had gotten. Stupid endurance training. Eating away at my biceps and pecs. Turning me into someone with the rail-thin body of my mother. Damn it.

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I Was “That Guy” on the News

Recently, I was the on WCCO Channel 4 evening news in Minneapolis/St. Paul. There was a shooting in a bar that’s within a half mile of where Pharime and I live, and a local reporter caught me on the street. I was TOTALLY “that guy” on the news that says something like “Oh, that kinda stuff just doesn’t happen in this neighborhood!” Check out part of that news cast:

I spoke in perfect "sound-bite grammar," short and to the point (just a little fast)!

Soon, you’ll see me on the news spouting off something like this:

“He was SUCH a good neighbor. Quiet, and kept to himself. I had no idea that was going on in his house! I don’t believe it!”

Or maybe:

“When the tornado touched down, it sounded like a flippin freight train was going through our backyard! I mean, it was like 'WWHOOOOSSHH WWHOOOSHHH', and then I saw my neighbor’s dog fly by! Poor Woofie!”

Maybe I’ll even make a shirtless appearance on COPS:

“No officer, I have NO idea how those drugs got into my car! They’re not mine! You have to believe me!

I'll be "that guy on the news, spouting off the obvious sound bite" for as long as I can. I wonder if there's a way I can turn this into a career?....

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I Hang A Little To The Left

...it’s not exactly what you think, but I got you to start reading didn’t I?!?

This past week, I had a running evaluation with a new PT. When I hopped on the treadmill, she quickly saw my right foot flare out at the end of the stride - something that I’ve known about for years. The good news is that the little foot flare is not detrimental to my stride. The bad news: it still makes me look femmy when I run. She videotaped me running, and then we watched it frame-by-frame from every angle.

We learned something valuable. My left hip (the hip attached to my bad knee) drops much more than my right hip. The NEW theory is that my left hip / left knee / left ass-cheek isn’t as strong as the right, and therefore the muscles are firing later than on the right. So my left side goes lower before bouncing back, and that extra dip is putting more stress on my knee.

The prescription: build up my ass strength. I’ve nearly got a 3-ring binder full of “prescribed” exercises from the 2 PTs that I’ve worked with. All of them have great illustrations. This guy looks likes he’s trying to make a living modeling for exercise manuals even though he’s in the Witness Protection Program:

I didn’t put the bar over his eyes;
that’s the way it came!

Also, I want to give MAD PROPS to my high school wrestling team from USC in Wells, MN. They won their first match during the State Tournament 2 days ago, and Pharmie and I are headed back down to the Xcel Center tonight to watch the second round. Here are 2 sweet, sweet pics of Pharmie’s youngest brother, Mike, right before and right after his match-clenching pin:

GO REBELS!!

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