Biker chicken workout

As I said, emphasis is on posterior chain, dynamic effort. This isn't in any particular order, I'm just getting ideas out.

Assisted pull ups
Back extension
V-rows
Bent over single arm rows with rotation
Ball jack knives
Medicine ball rotation
Hip rotation
Wood choppers
Reverse wood choppers
Delt press, lateral and posterior
Pullovers
Walkouts

Hmm hmm hmm. Delts definitely need to be in there because the upper traps tend to overdevelop, so they need to be balanced out. Some abs need to be in there also, as their role in the body is to supportand stabilize the back, but there needs to be plentiful oblique work, too. After Ll, on a bike, you're constantly fighting the wind (abs) but also using your body to stabilize the bike itself (obliques). Back, obviously, needs to be strong because you're fighting th wind pulling against you at all times. Lower back for seated support. Hmmmm....

Back:
Assisted pull ups
Back extension
V-rows
Bent over single arm rows with rotation

Abs:
Ball jack knives
Walkouts
Pullovers (kinda, among many things)

Obliques:
Medicine ball rotation
Hip rotation
Wood choppers

Delt presses

...I must think.

More than 100 miles!

We rode more than 100 miles today! 105.7, to be exact. We did stop once, to get some lunch. We were on PCH and one of the places we stop fairly regularly--Cotija's--was open, even though it is Christmas day. And PACKED, too, I guess since nowhere else was showing signs of life. It was a gorgeous day, though. Bright and sunny and not a cloud in the sky, and 71F to boot. I took a picture from our table on the patio:

Looks like summertime! Nick came out from ordering our food and was laughing. He smiled at me and said, "You know you're in California when you're at a Mexican food place on Christmas Day...and one of the other customers is a chick in a bikini." Haha! It was a gorgeous day, and the ocean was a deep azure blue. We went all the way up to Carlsbad beach, then turned around and came back.

Along the ride I was thinking about it, and I'm going to design a Biker Chicken workout. I'm a physical therapist assistant, so I know a bit about exercise. And trust me, I know my body well enough to know what's being taxed and what needs to be strengthened to help me ride more comfortably! I need a lot of core and posterior chain work, but it doesn't need to be isolated. I need dynamic strength, endurance strength. There needs to be a lot of eccentric strength work here. Sooooo...on that note...stay tuned for the Biker Chicken workout!

VROOM!

Yesterday we did a loop ride, down the old 94 and back up 805. I was doing okay. It's a windy road and the sun was killing me. In spite of my sunglasses I still could barely look ahead, and I will confess that sometimes I had to just point the bike and hope I was on the right line. I REALLY couldn't see on some of those turns. I did okay, and was coming near the end of the windy part. Then...eeps!

I was doing a turn down a hill that got tighter--and blinder--as it descended, and a Border Patrol guy in his truck pulled STRAIGHT out in front of me! AAAAHHHH!!!! In my head I had my husband's old observation: "You can't brake in a turn, you have to just ride it out and hope." I got really close to the tail of this agent, I swear, but I was trying to just hold on and not hit my brakes and stay upright and not, you know, reach out and unscrew his license plate or anything hostile like that...he floored it when he realized what he had done and took off. I was still concentrating on coming out of the turn and up the hill on the other side, so I didn't care where he was (as long as it wasn't right in front of me). Once I was on the straight I tried to relax a bit. Oi. I'm really going to need to practice emergencies in turns.

We went up the 805 to Cycle Gear, and this guy in a Caravan or Explorer or....some big SUV-truck thing, I don't know, it was black...didn't check for me and totally cut me off. I hope he liked that little bit of precious road he took from me. He didn't even seem to SEE it, though, so it couldn't have been that important to him...but whatever. I ride defensively so I saw him coming before he was on me, and I dropped back and out of his way. The truck went right by in front of me and up the outside lane. Nick was livid, though. He roared by on his big ol' black motorcycle to follow this guy. For what purpose, I don't know. But without Nick as my wingman I was suddenly panicked. There I was in the middle of 805, no rider behind, no one to block lanes for me so I could get over...and I couldn't put my hand up to my Chatterbox so that I could bring him back. Help!

In absence of all other options, I just kept riding.

It only took about a minute, though, before I heard this voice in my helmet: "Can you still hear me? I'll drop back to you. I'm sorry..." Ah, crisis averted. My big black escort was behind me again, and all was well.

Except it happened again, leaving Cycle Gear!! Ahhh!! I made a turn that he didn't make so he had to wait for a light change so he could jump traffic. Unfortunately, *my* next turn was onto the freeway. AUGH! So I just kept telling myself, "Motorcycles can ACCELERATE! Merge! Merge!" I did a couple of merges myself (yay me!) and then my wingman was with me again. He's quite thunderous, and makes quite an impression when he arrives on the scene. The huge black bike, the pipes, the black leather gear, the sleek black helmet with the tinted visor...it's quite impressive. Me, not so much. But his presence on the bike is something to aspire to. :) Anyway, I had my wingman back and we got home without incident.

Yesterday's ride, 63.2 miles. One break, but not because I needed it. :)

Shorter, with no breaks!

Yesterday afternoon we went on a shorter ride. We again headed up the 5 but got off at Torrey Pines so that I could do the big hill. Torrey Pines is a couple of miles long and it's this long, fairly straight climb from the beach to the top of the canyon. One of the cool things about a motorcycle is that it can accelerate FAST! I hit the bottom of the hill at a sedate 40 (I was driving by the beach parking), but when the road cleared up I hit the gas. I swear I was going 75 up the hill! There was no one else on the road, and I slowed down to a sedate (and legal) 45 at the top. Then we headed down the other side of the hill into La Jolla to drive along the coast.

La Jolla's Cove is famous, and is very much a tourist attraction in the summertime.

It's a beautiful ride, but it's a challenge, too. The road is not that well maintained and the parking is right there next to you, and with lost tourists and clueless pedestrians and desperate parkers...well, you get the idea. I was NOT having fun. Thankfully that part of the ride is only 1.5 miles long. When we got away from the coast I dropped my hand to acknowledge an oncoming guy on a chopper. He dropped his hand for me, and in my ear Nick said, "Now you're really a biker." I guess being able to let go of your bars with one hand makes you a biker! ;)

On the freeway coming home the traffic was horrible--I was doing about 15 mph--and I needed to say something to Nick through my Chatterbox. Now, because of my long-ago broken left elbow I can't touch the left side of my head with my left hand. That's where the Chatterbox is, though, so I have to reach across with my right. I reached up to hit the button and...accidentally flipped the kill switch  as my hand let go of the throttle. ACK!!! Thankfully I was in the inside lane, so I just steered over to the shoulder. I put my feet down, figured out what happened, assured Nick that I was okay, and tried to figure out how to get into traffic again. The lovely thing was that traffic was crawling, not racing by. So I only had to get up to about 15mph before I could merge back in at speed. I merged in and we got home safely.

58.5 miles yesterday, with no breaks! We did not stop and relax anywhere. I'm building up, but I was still shot when we got home.  I'll get there.

Fussing

Yesterday the bike was serviced--changing fluids and filters, replacing my back tire. The guys at the shop (Trophies) said the bike is in basically good condition, it's just a bit rough. That's probably because it hasn't been ridden much. It has less than 8,000 miles and it's a 2003. Hopefully that roughness--which honestly I don't even notice--will ride itself out as I spend time on it. Nick also got me engine bars, to protect the engine in case I dump it. I'm actually quite cavalier about it. The question isn't really if I will dump it, but when. It's pretty much a given that new riders will dump their rides at some point. Hopefully I'll do it with Lucia as I did it with Nick's bike: at a complete standstill, because I forgot to put the kickstand down.

He wants me to ride it in to work today, but I'm really not up for that. I have a cold and I'm just going in for an hour. Can you imagine wearing a full face helmet...and having a sneeze attack? UGH! And then I'd have to completely change clothes once I got to work, because I work in scrubs and there's no WAY I'm riding in scrubs. Cool or not, I'm just not feeling well enough for such machinations.

Although I do want to ride. When I got home last night I went over to admire my engine bars, and I rested my hand on the throttle and made little-boy vroom-vroom noises. It amused me. This weekend we will ride. :)

And I will be, as always, a badass biker chicken! BAKAWK!! ;)

The first 10,000 are the hardest

The number commonly quoted is 10,000 miles for comfort in riding. "The first 100 suck, the first 1,000 are pretty awful, by about 2-3,000 you start having moments where it comes together, by about 5,000 you start relaxing, and about 8-10,000 it really starts coming together," according to Nick. His father told this to him, now he's telling me.

Today I rode 71.9 miles. So I'm up to 171.9! And I can vouch for it, the first 100 miles really do suck. The second 100...not as bad, but still not my idea of freedom. But hey! I got out and I did it, and I'm closer to comfortable.

We rode up 805 to the mighty 5, a 6-lane 80+ mph freeway. The weirdest thing was trying to gauge my speed by the cars around me. I just couldn't do it. I'd think I was moving at a good clip and notice that cars were passing me on both sides. Look down and realize I'm going 65. Which is the speed limit, but obviously the freeway was faster this morning. So I'd try to pick it up and match the cars with me, but I swear I couldn't. It wasn't an issue of the bike's strength. In a car you don't really have any idea of how fast 70, 80, 90 miles per hour really is. Once you get out of that metal cage and onto a bike, though, the reality of speed hits you full in the face. And chest, and arms, and thighs, and calves. Nick and I wear full gear, so we both have on boots, jeans, leather jackets, full gloves, and full-face helmets. In spite of our gear, travelling at high speeds is very noticable. Call it nerves, call it trepidation, call it simple wimpiness--I didn't want to go 80 mph. Nick says I'll get over that.

The reality of speed is the most overwhelming part of riding. I've driven a stick shift for 20 years so that part isn't that difficult, but the fact that I am hurtling through space is always at the forefront of my mind. I feel the wind. I feel the temperature change when I drive into the shadow of the side of a hill or drop into a canyon. I smell the fruit trees alongside the road, or the exhaust of the car in front of me. Moving my arm against the push of the wind becomes an experience in tendon and sinew. The world is at once bigger, and more immediate. Being on a bike is like I'm more fully in the world. Cars separate you from the experience of travel, but on a bike you're a part of it.

We turned off at Encinitas and came back down Pacific Coast Highway. PCH is a legendary road and a peaceful, beautiful ride. The ocean peeks through regularly--it's at most 2 or 3 blocks west. The shops are small and privately owned. The pedestrians carry surfboards and beach bags. Other riders nod or drop their hands in acknowledgement. It's communal, but challenging enough to learn. I had a couple of times when I couldn't seem to start--more clutch! Try first gear, it works better! But beyond that I was doing okay.

When we got home, though, I was done. Thankfully I didn't do it on the bike, but once I walked in the front door I crashed and burned. Hit the bath to warm up and fell asleep in the bath, got out and climbed into bed and napped for 2 hours. Physically I feel like I've been beaten with a 2x4. Nick says that happens with your first rides. Your body isn't accustomed to fighting the wind, and you're tense and tight anyway. Hopefully I'll learn to relax, and the next ride won't wear me out as much! But it was a good 70 mile ride, anyway. I felt good. I was tired on the way home, but I feel like Lucia and I got to know each other a bit more today.

I am an awesome passenger

When my husband rides his Yamaha VStar 1300, I'm quite comfortable on the back. I like being his passenger. I go where he goes, lean where he leans, and never try to second-guess his ride. Somewhere, though, we got the idea that I needed a bike of my own. Or, he got the idea.

I took the safety course and passed it, took the DMV test and passed it, and got my motorcycle license in the mail. We kept scouring Craigslist until we found several bikes to test-drive. Yesterday we contacted a man in Rancho San Diego about his Yamaha VStar 1100--a bit smaller and lighter than Nick's bike. This is important, because Nick's bike scares me. I can barely handle it, and I don't feel safe. So I went out and test-rode the 1100, and liked it well enough to buy it. He double-checked his paperwork and discovered it's a 2003, not a 2001 as he had assumed (and appraised and advertised). Score! I am the proud owner of a 2003 Yamaha VStar 1100 in gunmetal grey. It had saddlebags but we took them off for now.

(Mine is on the left, Nick's on the right.)

I was standing next to my husband looking at the bike and he said, "So now you're a sexy biker chick!" I laughed ruefully and said, "No...I think I'm more of a biker chicken." I am timid, right now, but I trust that will ease as I learn to ride and as Lucia (my bike) and I get to know each other. When I bought this bike I had less than 100 miles on my seat. I trust I will become a biker chick with more miles!