In which I embrace my pale skin

I'm not counting on anyone noticing how pale I have been in the past two years-- but I will come out and say it. I am pale. Two years ago I would have been ashamed of this fact yet today I proudly embrace that my skin is significantly lighter than in years past.

I used to get really tan in the Spring and Summer months. Growing up in Ohio under the sweltering humid sun it seemed almost impossible to contemplate a suffocating layer or sunscreen because sweating was a dire necessity. I also used to have really bad cystic acne to my face and back that cleared quite well with some UV love. As I quickly learned, I also can get the deep brown tan on par with that of a pornstar. Just a few good days out and I was back to golden brown for summer.

To many, the tan lines of cycling and running is the embodiment of the sports. They aren't tan lines, they are "commitment lines." It is the time of year we dream about (unless you race Cross or Ski as your primary discipline...). Shed the warmers, layers, and the sponge and bucket for some liberation from the crueler elements.

Reality Check, here it comes

My father has metastatic melanoma and is actively getting treatment. My great uncle Jack died from complications of (wait for it) metastatic melanoma. My maternal uncle has had significant squamous cell carcinoma removed in the past year. Earlier this year at the age of 27, not even half the age of my father, I had a pre-cancerous area burned off my face with liquid nitrogen.  The circle of direct genetics and influence has closed in around me. I'm brown brown haired, blue/green eyed and need to embrace the fact that while I can tan rather well it is probably the closest thing to putting me in an early grave.

I took enough genetics and cancer biology in college (because the RD classes weren't keeping me busy enough?) to know my percentages. I know it's likely I have the gene that expresses the cancer proliferation so easily. I have the sun burn and sun exposure history to elevate my risk. Additionally it seems that life's idea of a cruel joke in hindsight, common sense, has evaded me until now.

As someone who strives to live an active, healthy, and life-extending lifestyle it seemed time to wise up. What also has helped my logic is that I see many folks who haven't protected their skin and they look like a piece of regurgitated fruit leather. I'm a vain person and have no shame in admitting I want to have the looks to grace Mens Health when I'm 65.

Action, move forward

First and foremost, I faithfully started wearing sunscreen that my dainty and rather sensitive skin could tolerate. I even found SPF product that I use as my daily lotion (because dry skin sucks too). I take the perfect 1oz tubes with me on my rides and reapply every 90 minutes. I haven't burned or peeled in over two years now.

Additionally, I'm wearing more clothes. I always ran around like a feral in only running shorts and shoes or had sheer/mesh sleeveless jerseys and no-show socks on while cycling. Fast forward to present day and I've learned the value of base layers for cooling and full-weave jerseys in Summer months. On long rides I wear SunSleeves-- which not only block UV but also are remarkably good at cooling the body down. I've learned that Sock Doping is a thing and can mean a pretty nice look. Afterall, It IS a sport of aesthetics...

I have an annual check-up now with a great dermatology group. If you have a family history of skin cancer your insurance will pay for this in full.

Diet wise, I haven't changed much. As a rule, I eat fairly well. Plenty of vegetation and raw and fresh-pressed fats. Sure, in the summer I get away with a bit more sugar BC I'm burning way more too-- but overall diet quality is still on par.

***No amount of diet magic can spare you a direct mutation from UV radiation no matter what the internet or best-selling author tell you.***

The takeaway 

Wear sunscreen, workout not in mid-day, wear a hat, cover up, and eat like you want to live to see the year 2100.

 Most of all, learn to enjoy the life you have for yourself, knowing that in a matter of a doctor visit or biopsy, your life could be changed forever.

Patrick. 

The stories our feet can tell

I have some pretty gnarly feet. They are strong, but certainly not pretty. I can look at my feet and think of past victories, podiums, bruises, ice baths, bursitis, ruptured tendons, broken toe bones, stress fractures, weird-ass warts, and how much Adidas shoes destroy my feet. It is undeniable there is this loose celebration for endurance athletes in the tissue breakdown and regrowth in our feet. Our feet take us to the very limits of our known abilities-- the one honest measure and true test of self, after all, is Sport. 

Our feet move us towards our goals and a deep sense of satisfaction that can last for years following. They can push us to drive people, including loved ones, out of our lives while we pursue these goals-- It is my hope that endeavors of our feet will somehow convey to these special people (or not-so-special) that when we make the choice stand next to them that they know it was a decision not easily reached. Think of the feet that have inspired thousands of other feet.

I don't think a lot of people recognize that their feet are capable of amazing things. Many find them gross (which I've always found a bit childish) or make a point to care more for their lazy comfort than relish the garish potential for black toe nails and blisters. Feet are biblical; they are symbolic of effort and struggle.

My feet are the only thing I know to stand on. 

June "race" report

How late am I posting this? Whoops, left this in draft folder!

It's always prudent to test oneself prior to target races. Many athletes will do smaller races or do simulation workouts to gauge fitness, test gear, and work on mental fitness. It's hard to imagine a sport that doesn't require some degree of "dry run".

The CBC double metric century (I rode the imperial century of 100 miles) proved to be a good test of my fitness before racing in September. Affirmation for what has been a more patient, yet structured, training schedule (read: boring lol).

The day was supposed to be a scorcher but some early AM showers and fantastic  lightening display cooled the temps down to reasonable levels despite spiking the humidity level. While I didn't start off too quick, I certainly did not waste any time getting up to a pace that was far from pedestrian. This was my first focused effort "racing" on my Tarmac and the bike performed flawlessly even if I did not.

The first thirty miles included a quick aid station and a thinning of the herd with the climb up Michigan hill and the undulating terrain outside Centralia. Further hills, much to my legs delight, rolled steadily and I had barely a bit of fatigue in the legs through mile 45...until I became LOST.

Panic? not really.
I got lost. I never get lost in a race very often however this time it sent me off course by about 5.5 miles. What was more concerning is that I had flocked in with a group of fellas that were sure we were heading in the right direction. Nope. We weren't. It wasn't until I told them the cue sheet prompted us to turn well before this time that we turned around (side note: never try and read a cue sheet whilst in a pace line..sketchy). A Fervent pace line ensued back to the point of original error, and after burning precious batches getting back on course I was met with a pretty big rough patch in the day. Miles 60 through 80 were not kind to me-- however, many of long death marches on the bike over the years have taught that keeping a steady pace and getting in calories always serves me well and I will eventually get my legs back. I swore a few times and the false flats could have made me cry but took solace in passing many people in those 20 miles. I increased the amount of calories by almost 30% in that time and kept my hydration steady to avoid cramping. Once again, I was thankful the heat had abated for the time being.

Over the bigger climbs and rollers of the day I made pretty good pace (and so-so recovery from the rough patch) to make Rochester with good time. I had even caught a coworker and friend who had started the course hours ahead of me. What made it even more special was Wendy and Nola there to give me the little boost to get back out on the bike and get back to Tumwater as fast as possible.

The next 20 miles went fairly well and I caught plenty of the OlyOrtho guys in the last ten miles. Many of tempo rides have been ridden on those final 10 miles and I left nothing remaining into the final miles of the ride.

A steady pace, good conservation of effort in the flats, and no stupid accelerations to put too much crap in my legs and I finished with a respectable 5h30minutes for the 100miles (+10) completed on the day. A total gain of 2,600ft is paltry compared to races I've done prior in Southern OH and WVa but the overall pace and effort was sustained to make an honest day of PB.

The Takeaway

My goal going into the ride was to finish within 6 hours if I was having a bad day, and ideally closer to 5hrs. I feel that with my concerted effort to not go too deep at the start, burn my matches evenly throughout, and not trying to crush the climbs I showed my form was in line for races later in the summer.

I made up a lot of time on the climbs despite not pushing into the red-- climbing is a cycling discipline, given my rather slim genetics and abnormally high max HR, that I continue to excel. When I was physically capable of mountain running my uphill game was pretty strong. While I haven't had the opportunity to put in any serious vertical training this year it IS reassuring to see that the ability to reach into my pocket and pull out good climbing results remains.

Looking Forward
I'll be looking to train to my weaknesses in the coming months. Hitting that low point after getting lost showed that my fitness could use a bit of bolstering on threshold stamina. False flats be damned.