We bought a house today. Signed the documents, pocketed the keys. I have my very own garage door opener for the first time ever.
And it was, at least the parts we did today, mind-bogglingly EASY, which feels at complete odds with the magnitude of the overall event. I mean, someone out there looked at me and decided I was adult enough to have a house. I still have a hard time not lumping myself with “the kids” in any given conversation.
In any case, we’re homeowners, and in my sentimental ponderings today I thought back to the day we got our very first apartment – and realized I didn’t feel ready for that, either. In fact, I may have felt less sure of myself that day with a single-year lease and a heck of a lot less money and responsibility on the line.
Maybe I’m looking at this house wrong. It’s not the grand final decision in my life any more than that first apartment was. It’s just the next step – in life, but also out of my comfort zone.
So I’m super excited for the house (and may have paint colors pulled up as we speak… blue-grey or egg-shell??) but I’m also excited to see where this house takes me.
I’ve completed the second and third rides on my TrainerRoad training plan.
The good news: I got my own trainer and the hubby and I can ride side-by-side now!
The bad news: I spend the first half of my hour ride on Thursday night seriously pissed off at the setup.
In all honestly, I doubt I did the calibration correctly. Since the hubby started using both the trainer and TrainerRoad before me, I had him help with setup and I was able to get by with less-than-stellar prep. It’s one of those situations I’ve been noticing recently, where I have taught myself to rely on him and it ends up biting me in the butt. Oops.
I also didn’t have a cadence sensor for the ride on Thursday. I’d ordered one, since biking at the same time makes it hard to share the one we already have, but it still hadn’t arrived. I’m pretty sure these two items were the cause of my main frustration, and while they’re both very fixable, it didn’t help my mood for Thursday.
So, what was the problem? Remember my comment in my previous post that I was spinning at about half the recommended cadence on my first ride? Having noticed the deficiency, I didn’t like the idea of returning to a bad habit. However, in order to bring my power down to the correct level when I was recovering between intervals, I had to slow my cadence considerably. Even shifting to a lower gear didn’t help. Take a look at the graph below. The blue is the target power output and the yellow line is what I actually achieved. Not exactly on-target.
After the disaster of a warm-up and the first recovery period, I gritted my teeth and decided I’d just have to deal with the slow cadence. Unfortunately, that didn’t work well either. Every time I lowered the cadence enough to match the target power, TrainerRoad would pause the workout with an infuriating message: “pedal to resume.”
Yes, thank you for the note. That’s a great idea. Oh, wait, I AM PEDALING.
The same problem occurred after the five-second sprints. Since I almost doubled my power output during these intervals, the subsequent spin-down left the back wheel and trainer spinning at high RPMs. Without the cadence sensor, TrainerRoad had no way to tell if I actually was pedaling, or if I had simply decided to “coast.” Cue yet another “workout paused, pedal to resume” message.
Luckily this problem only lasted for a few seconds after each interval, but it still frustrated me enough to take any enjoyment out of the workout. I finished the hour feeling more relieved to be done than accomplished.
Amazon reported that my cadence sensor wouldn’t be here until after my Saturday ride, so I was pleasantly surprised to find the package waiting for me after work on Friday. I calibrated the trainer on the TrainerRoad and the Wahoo apps, and spent some time confirming that all of my devices were labeled “Jen’s” in the TrainerRoad app. The last thing I wanted was to end up using the data from the hubby’s heart rate monitor or cadence sensor!
With all of the technology set up, I still had to face one more big challenge: the third ride every week on this training plan is an hour and a half – which is not only the longest I’d ever been on a trainer, but longer than my average trainer session by, oh, about an hour. Yikes.
Thanks to the improved set-up, Saturday’s experience was similar to my first ride, and I got through a lot of it by focusing on the tips and exercises in the app. Still, the ride was composed of five ten-minute intervals just below my FTP, and by the last one I really didn’t give a damn about engaging extra muscle groups by kicking through the top-stroke. I just wanted to collapse on the couch with the cat, who clearly thought 90 minutes was the perfect amount of time for a nap.
Finally, blissfully, it was done. It had been a week of milestones: first official training plan, longest trainer ride, first ride on my own trainer, and the first time setting up my own equipment totally on my own. There had been hard parts, of the frustrating, painful, and exhausting categories, but as of this moment, all of those have only made me want to push harder, not give up.
We’ll see what next week brings. Right now, though, I’m wondering if I might be tougher than I think.
I hope you had a lovely 14th of February, however you spent it and whomever you were with.
The hubby and I ended up celebrating last night, which isn’t something we always do. But some other plans got canceled and we’ve been meaning to go on a date for a while, so we took advantage of the open evening and decided to check out Dumpling Darling, a new restaurant not far from us.
Patience is a virtue I only sometimes possess, so I loved that we weren’t fighting the Valentine’s crowds. We got a dumpling flight, which let us sample all their steamed dumplings. To my surprise, my favorite was the kimchi dumpling, although all of them were delicious. We debated trying the dessert dumplings, but in the end decided in favor of Molly’s Cupcakes, which is right across the street. The hubby got a German chocolate cupcake; I had a peach cobbler one. Since the dumplings were not particularly filling, it was the perfect end to the meal.
All other things aside, I’m in love with those cupcakes. Heavenly.
It we’d stopped here, it might have gone down as our most traditional Valentine’s Day in years. We’d gone to dinner early, though, and had time to kill. Our post-cupcake destination is a place we love dearly, but very few people would consider romantic: REI. We left with a similarly-beloved-but-not-romantic present for me: my own Wahoo Kickr Snap bike trainer.
Of course, you could argue that the second Kickr Snap is an instrument for marital felicity. No more do the hubby and I have to argue over who gets the trainer first; like toddlers, it seems that we only want to use it when the other one is already planning on doing so, and we have literally raced each other to get our leg over the bike on occasion. How many people can say they were gifted the end to a recurring argument for Valentine’s Day?
We rearranged the living room last night to accommodate both trainers, where they have displaced our couch and will stay until we move in a couple weeks – I can’t wait to have space for both trainers AND the couch! And so, Valentine’s Day evening found us both pedaling away, headphones in and not particularly pleased with each other. (I didn’t have the trainer set up to my satisfaction and was not impressed with the subsequent workout. In turn, the hubby was unimpressed with me. I’m going to be magnanimous and say we both had a point.)
It’s an evening that would have horrified several of my girlfriends, and I can only hope they spent their Valentine’s Day in a way that brought them joy. That said, it’s no less fair to put down my unconventional enjoyment than it would be to demean a day filled with flowers and chocolates and wine.
True love is about being yourself, about understanding each other, and about finding ways to make each other happy. Tonight, our love was an hour sweating four feet apart from each other and an order to stop complaining. And honestly, I might appreciate that even more than cupcakes.
I broke out the exercise ball at work. To clarify, I moved back to our main office from my previous location onsite and finally got around to re-inflating it to use as my chair. I’d been pretty hesitant – the guys onsite didn’t give me a hard time about it, but some people in my office are quick to tease. Did I want to open that can of worms?
In the end, I decided my continued health and happiness was worth a bit of teasing, if it came to that. And so far, no one has said a thing. This morning, though, I heard the sound of a bouncing object pass my cubicle and went to investigate. Someone else in the office is now, as my mother phrases it, “on the ball.” Maybe not everyone thinks I’m crazy, after all.
Don’t be afraid to be the odd one out. You never know who else might join you once you take that first step.
“It is hard to get comfortable people to do anything when it might cost them their comfort.” – Tamora Pierce, Trickster’s Queen
This quote has been running through my mind a lot lately. Okay, it’s been running through my mind intermittently ever since I read Trickster’s Queen in 2012, but lately I’ve been pondering more and more how it applies to me. I’m not planning to overthrow the government and put a thirteen-year-old on the throne, after all. So why has it stuck with me so clearly?
Perhaps it’s because I’ve been questioning my own comfort, and the necessity of it, quite frequently over the past few weeks. I’ve come to the conclusion that comfort, in and of itself, is not bad. It can be pretty dang good, actually – who doesn’t love curling up after a long day, or a hard ride, and letting yourself relax at last?
It’s holding yourself back for the sake of comfort that can become problematic. Before long, you aren’t just comfortable; you’re complacent. Why push yourself harder on your run? Why speak up and ask for more stimulating tasks at work? Why travel somewhere new when it’s so easy, so comfortable, to go back to the same beach you’ve walked a thousand times? Of course, if there is a reason to stay where you are, then make note of it and move on.
I keep wondering, though, how often I’ve stopped myself short of asking that crucial question – why? – and how often I’ve traded in opportunity for familiarity. Comfort should be a refuge, not a cage.
So have the presence of mind to appreciate comfort for what it is – and the courage to leave it behind when something else is more important.
I just got done with my first actual workout on TrainerRoad and, since I have a feeling this is going to change a lot about how I bike, I’m going to track my thoughts and progress over the course of the 6-week plan that I’m following. I actually wish I would have written down some thoughts before I started the workout, because a a significant amount already changed during that hour on the trainer.
A big part of the idea behind starting this blog was about being 100% honest, both with other people and myself. Especially myself. And I really didn’t like admitting it, but I did not want to start that workout. Part of this was thanks to TrainerRoad’s Ramp Test, which, to quote their website, is set up to “give you the most accurate estimate of your current fitness and establish a benchmark for tracking progress.” I did the ramp test a couple days ago, and the number it spit out for me was 122. Divide that by my weight in kilograms, and I get a ratio (FTP, or Functional Threshold Power) around 1.93. In other words, low. On a chart containing ranges of “fair” to “world class,” that literally puts me on the line that goes from “fair” DOWN to a section called “untrained/non-racer.”
Okay, fine. I’m untrained. I’m not exactly a racer. That just means I have more room to improve, right? Well, that’s part of the problem. For a multitude of reasons that I’m not going to go into on this post, I have very little faith in my ability to improve significantly – and that made me very hesitant to start any sort of training plan. No matter what I told myself rationally, I was pretty much convinced that I would either be in excruciating pain for the entire experience, or literally nothing would change. Great – I’d be paying $15 a month just to prove that I’m a failure.
But I digress. I’d picked the base phase “Low Volume II” training plan, and since I completed the Ramp Test previously, that meant I started with the Ebbetts workout. Looking at it didn’t help my nerves. An hour? Of intervals? Made to push my specific limits? And did I mention it meant an hour on the trainer? I usually manage to get about half an hour on the trainer before the pain in my legs and my boredom both become so acute I throw in the towel. (Okay, if I’m being totally honest, the boredom usually tips the scale more than the pain.) Either way, the fact that all the rides in this plan were at least an hour long made me apprehensive.
I made one other change on this ride, and that was the addition of a cadence monitor. The hubby really wanted this – I thought it was essentially unnecessary. After all, our trainer (Wahoo Kickr Snap, will review later) already tells us heart rate, speed, and power – how much difference can cadence make?
You bikers are shaking your heads at me, I can see it. It turns out, cadence can make a big difference, and this was the start of my evening revelations. The hubby had previously been listening to a playlist with 90 bpm songs to keep his tempo correct; TrainerRoad suggested I keep my tempo at 85 bpm or higher. When I started the ride and settled into what I thought was a decent cadence, I was biking at about 50 bpm. Oops.
To my extreme relief, the workout didn’t kill me in the first three minutes. In fact, it actually began at a far slower pace than I would have started myself, at 50% of my FTP, before gradually ramping up. (Hey, I actually did a proper warm-up!) By the time I got to the main intervals, I’d decided I could finish the hour – and I was already eleven minutes in! By the second interval, I’d figured out how to read the entire display, and over twenty minutes had passed. For perhaps the first time ever, I’d worked up a decent sweat on the trainer without fighting boredom.
It was around this time that I started to pay more attention to the tips on the screen. I’d expected things like “pedal faster” or “go harder now.” I didn’t expect the mix of tips showing me how to engage more muscles (“focus on pedaling horizontally for a while”), motivation (“Just be relaxed and make it look easy, and even YOU will begin to believe it”), and gentle reminders (“fatigue is never an excuse for poor form”). Waiting to see what would pop up next, I forgot to focus on the seconds dragging past. After countless hours of training alone with only my own , the commentary was a novel concept – and I loved it.
The other thing I noticed and appreciated is that TrainerRoad takes the mental aspect out of going harder. There was no need to muster my willpower to do the sprints – the target power went up, and I matched it. It told me when I could rest, but only at a certain level with a certain cadence for a certain amount of time. While I can see this being annoying for more advanced riders, I’ve known for a long time that I’m bad at pushing myself. I’d been curious to see if a preset plan would help or not. Since it definitely did, I’m very excited to see what I can actually do with someone else setting the bar.
Writing this post has been another revelation in and of itself: every issue that has held me back previously has not been physical. Confidence, boredom, and willpower are my biggest enemies, not the muscle or lack thereof in my legs. In that context, improving doesn’t seem quite so daunting after all.
Gear is expensive. While a lot of what we own was either a present or purchased second-hand, it still adds up. In fact, I’m kind of scared to know how much money we have sitting in our gear closet, made up of bikes, skis, climbing equipment, shoes, coats, bags, helmets, and other accessories. Oh, the accessories. Talk about the feather that broke the camel’s back!
Our big gear purchase this winter was skis and ski boots, which we’d budgeted for and have since used enough to “save money” by not renting the equipment. What I hadn’t considered was how we were going to transport our skis, nor the fact that I am clumsy enough that I have managed to hit a door frame, drop a ski, and pinch my fingers between skis in the course of about two minutes. (It was bad. My husband stopped asking if I was okay when I yelped.)
In short, it didn’t take long for me to start looking into ski bags. Fortunately, I found one I liked AND ended up getting it for Christmas. Unfortunately, it was the end of November when I found this out, which meant I had half-a-dozen ski trips to manage without causing damage to myself, my skis, or my apartment walls.
I could have gotten through it without any sort of help. I have made it through 25 years on the planet, after all. However, it got a heck of a lot simpler when I realized that skis aren’t all that different from yoga mats in several key ways – and I already had a strap for my mat.
Would I use the strap now that I have a nice, padded ski bag? Probably not. But in the interim, transporting my gear became much simpler, all for the price of $7 that I’d already spent. It even matched the colors on my skis.
So if you’re ever despairing the cost of an accessory, take a look around to see what else might work. (Save this for the stuff your life doesn’t depend on. A knock-off helmet or climbing harness can cost you a lot more in the long run.) And if you’re looking for a cheap way to transport your skis and poles, this is the strap I have. If anyone gives you crap for it, tell them you’re going minimalist – and enjoy having the extra cash to spend in the lodge when you’re done for the day.
I bought a necklace on a whim the other day, and while I normally rotate the necklaces I wear, I keep reaching for this one. Somehow, the simple act of putting the word “fearless” around my neck makes me less likely to hold myself back. And I love the fact that simply reminding myself bravery matters to me makes me stand straighter and tell myself, “you can do this.”
I’ve been getting frustrated with chores lately. Not “I’d rather read a book than straighten up the kitchen” – my inner thoughts have sounded more like “if I have to touch another piece of laundry or dirty dish in the next year I am going to SCREAM.”
There’s no reason for me to be so upset. Nothing has changed. We’ve had a long-time policy of doing small batches of dishes after each meal so they don’t pile up, and (after growing up without one, this still doesn’t come naturally to me) I’ve gotten much better about utilizing the dishwasher. Laundry has always been “my” chore, but since the hubby no longer works on Saturday mornings, he now helps me put the clothes away.
Apparently, none of that matters. I’ve still just been pissed.
Then I found an old notebook while going through my desk at work. Even with the majority of my personal and work life digitized, I’m still a sucker for notebooks. There’s something so inviting about them, so promising. They make me feel grand, like each page is my ticket to the perfect life, and all I have to do is pick up my pen. So with nothing better to do on my lunch break, I wrote “Spend more time living and less time existing” at the top of a page and started jotting down ideas.
The first few were obvious – we’d discussed getting a maid to come in once a month after we move to our new house, and I’ve been toying with the idea of services like PrimePantry for a while. Sure, they were all valid ideas, but none of them would change the problems that were bothering me. And then, about four lines in, it hit me. I’m not sure where the phase came from – some old Pinterest post? a joke I heard in college? my frustrated brain throwing out a solution when I actually did something other than complain? – but it popped into my head all at once.
Buy more underwear, do less laundry.
I paused. Ran the thought through my mind again. Flipped it over and examined all sides for any evidence of tampering or sorcery or other things that you consider when something is maybe just a little too good to be true. Nothing.
Buy more underwear, do less laundry.
So I wrote it down – the pen didn’t break, the notebook didn’t catch fire – took a picture, and sent it to my husband. He responded immediately: “OMG yes. And more dress shirts?”
Fair enough. I’d been meaning to get him more shirts ever since he started his new job this fall, now was as good a time as any. Feeling thoroughly out of my funk now, I ran through all the specific reasons laundry has been driving me crazy. Thanks to our record-breaking lows of the past month, I’ve been wearing my thickest sweaters on repeat, all of which require air-drying at the very least. Same with our wool socks. Unless I hire a weekly maid/housekeeper (not happening any time in the near future) or figure out a laundry service (now I have to talk to someone to get my laundry done? and deal with their schedule?), laundry will never be done for good. But I can get rid of the parts that annoy me the most.
That was when part two of my epiphany hit. Growing up, laundry was a long task. We air-dried everything on clothes lines strung up along the porch of our detached garage, so the process included hauling the loads up and down the path, wiping off the clothes lines, shifting the clothes pins so you didn’t end up with creases in your favorite shirt, and keeping an eye out for rain – and we did this every Saturday.
I’d already done away with most of the process, thanks to the in-unit washer and dryer in our apartment. Why not change the rest? Just because my parents wash their clothes weekly doesn’t mean it’s a requirement for me. Duh, honey.
I looked up the brand and type of my sole tumble-dry-low sweater and bought it in three more colors. (Bonus: it’s sale season for sweaters!) The hubby picked out some button downs that aren’t blue. He got more underwear. I ordered another bra. I even found some machine-dry camisoles, although I haven’t convinced myself it’s worth the price yet. Pulling out the drying rack isn’t that bad, after all – as long as I don’t have to find room for half my wardrobe on it.
We’ll see how much the changes help. For now, I’m feeling a lot more optimistic.
Do you have any “more living, less chores” tips? What has made the biggest difference for you?