Watt’s up?

There’s only one number that counts, right? The time up Kings. And it was becoming clear pretty quickly that it wasn’t going to be anything great this morning. Marcus, George & Kevin all rode away from me pretty early up the hill. George said he was beat and was going to take it easy, but his version of taking it easy just barely kept him in sight on the longer straight stretches of the climb.

To get under 30 minutes, you really need to be right at 20 (or less) with 1.41 miles to go (the long wide section, where there’s plenty of room for cars to park on the side). I was at 20:10 or so. Not quite yet ready to give up on the idea of 30, but it was fading as I continued. I really felt like I should have been faster, and was more than willing to blame things on the Hydroxyurea I’m taking, which is the opposite of the EPO that cyclists have used to enhance performance. In fact, I even named my Strava entry accordingly, but the reality was different from both the feeling and the time up the hill, as Strava showed a weighted average of 206 watts for the ride, just a few watts short of the 211-212 I get on a “good” day. So maybe this was one of those “high gravity” days? Yeah, must be it.

Kevin was riding considerably faster, getting something like 26:05 on the climb. I can still remember days like that, but they’re about 10 years past. I’m better at the long game now; the Sequoia 100 mile ride a couple weeks ago was pretty easy. But I do miss the fast game.

My Mom, the Iron Lady

The “Iron Lady” has nothing on my mom. A couple weeks ago she was in for a checkup and asked about a mammogram. Seems they generally give women a pass on them, past a certain age (she’s somewhere on the upper side of 85; I not quite sure really because she doesn’t act like someone over 70 maybe, if that?).

Anyway, she asked if she could have one, and they said sure. Turns out there was a 1.4cm tumor hidden in there. So a couple days ago she goes in to have the offending side removed (“side?” Sorry, but my Mom y’know? My wife can have a breast or boob, but my Mom? Ewww…).

A few hours after surgery we’re visiting her at Kaiser; she’s up in her chair and smiling and eating an no paid meds stronger than Tylenol? Gets discharged the next morning and it’s like nothing ever happened. Still just Tylenol.

I have a really great photo of her taken that evening at Kaiser, which she admits is a great photo, but she won’t let me post it. You’ll just have to imagine someone with a big smile on her face, sitting in a chair, looking maybe 70 or so, without any indication that she’s just had a major operation.

My grandmother lived to be 102 by the way. She was quite upset when it became clear she wouldn’t make it to 103, because that would have been the record at her retirement home. 🙂