Orny's Cycling Journal

For reasons I’ll explain in a second, improving my diet became a critical consideration following my stroke. But I had lots of questions about the areas where healthy eating directly conflicts with sports nutrition’s best practices for endurance athletes. I decided to get answers from a professional, and this blogpost summarizes what I got out of consulting a nutritionist for the first time in my life.

This is one of those posts where it’s not clear whether it belongs on my general blog or here on my cycling-specific blog. Since I came at this from a cyclist’s perspective, I decided to post it to the latter, so that other cyclists would more readily find it. But most of this is equally relevant to my non-cycling readers.

Where I Started

The statistics say that 25 percent of stroke survivors will have a second stroke. And, according to the hospitalist who was in charge of me during my hospitalization, the greatest determinant of whether you have another stroke is diet. Survivors who didn’t change to a heart-healthy diet had the most readmissions, in contrast to those who took dietary advice to heart.

What did she specifically advocate? This:

• Reduce inflammation and chances of developing diabetes by cutting intake of simple sugars
• Reduce cardiac risks by limiting dietary fat intake, especially saturated and trans fats
• Avoid hypertension by reducing intake of table salt and highly processed foods
• Maintain healthy blood volume by staying fully hydrated

That was the first advice I got following my stroke, and – as a Type A personality and someone with an intense fear of stroke – I took her opinions extremely seriously. Even though I’m significantly younger, healthier, and more active than most stroke survivors, improving my diet seemed, at that time, to be a matter of life and death.

However, as an endurance cyclist, two of those strictures are problematic for me. Simple carbs are the preferred and primary fuel for athletes; would I be risking my health by continuing to emphasize them in my diet? And it’s pretty hard to avoid chronic dehydration if you’re riding hard in the Texas sun for a multiple hours every day.

Although I’ve stayed on top of changing dietary recommendations for decades, these contradictory needs convinced me that it would make sense to consult a nutritionist for the first time in my life.

Another factor is that I was very concerned about weight loss. From 2011 through 2022, my body weight stayed in a narrow range, mostly between 76 and 79 kg, averaging out at 77.3. But in the last five months of 2022 I suddenly and inexplicably dropped 6½ kilos (15 lbs). I gained about half of that back, but then lost another 3½ kg in the weeks following my stroke, bringing me down to an adult-era low weight of 71.2 kg (157 lbs). A nutritionist could help me figure out how to stem my ongoing weight loss while simultaneously cutting both carbohydrates and fat out of my diet.

More Medical Advice I Got

I’ve already outlined the alarmist attitude that my hospitalist instilled in me right after my stroke, and where that advice led me.

But I immediately started getting contradictory advice from every other healthcare provider I talked to.

A week after my stroke, I had a followup with my family physician, who told me that nutrition was a long-term concern and not to overdo any drastic changes to my diet. But as a PCP he’s a generalist, so I remained skeptical, while making sure I got a referral to a nutritionist out of him.

A week after that, I had a followup with my neurologist, whose attitude was that nutrition is just about general health and preventing blood clots, which is more of a cardiologist’s domain.

It took another month before a long-awaited meeting with my cardiologist. His attitude was another surprising counterpoint to the hospitalist. He also claimed that diet is purely a long-term concern, saying both “Go eat a pizza if you want,” and “Eating heart-healthy is not the most pleasant thing.”

After all that, I really didn’t know what to think. The obvious consensus was that diet wasn’t the smoking gun that the hospitalist had portrayed. But it was still hard for me to cast aside her staunchly-held opinion, since it was the only obvious thing that I could control.

But maybe my nutritionist would provide a decisive opinion…

My Nutritionist Experience

I’ve never really thought of nutritionists as a highly skilled profession. As I see it, there are two main aspects to the job.

One part is staying up-to-date on the ever-changing “science” – separating genuine dietary knowledge from the deluge of biased pseudo-science – and distilling that down into a form that’s digestible for their uninformed clients.

This would be of some benefit to me. Having paid attention to sports nutrition for 25 years, I’m pretty well-informed. But I’m less up-to-date on heart- and health-related topics, and never had to deal with problematic weight loss. And it’d be nice to get the current scoop on perpetual debates like “Are eggs good or bad?” and “Which is healthier: butter or margarine?”

The other – and possibly larger – aspect to the job is similar to that of a therapist: talking with clients and trying to manage them into growing the self-discipline required to make lasting dietary changes.

As I mentioned above, I’m a Type A; I don’t need external support once I’ve decided to change my behavior. So the coaching aspect of the nutritionist’s job is really of no value to me.

The most valuable and immediate advice she game me was when she confirmed what my other healthcare providers had said: that I didn’t need to approach dietary changes with a crisis response and rigidity, and that no one individual choice is gonna kill you. I didn’t need to eliminate all fats and simple carbs from my diet, after all. I was already living a pretty healthy lifestyle, and the emphasis should be on fitting increasingly beneficial habits into a healthy diet whose results compound over time.

But beyond that high-level advice, after four meetings in five months, I’m still not convinced that a nutritionist brings a ton of expertise and value to the table. My nutritionist mostly just repeated standard advice that variety is most important and that even “bad” foods are okay when taken in moderation.

At the same time, I don’t want to sell her short. I did get some novel, useful information from her that manifested in some dietary changes I wouldn’t have considered otherwise. So let’s take a look at those…

Specific Dietary Recommendations

It’s pointless talking about the changes I’ve made without first reviewing my diet prior to my stroke. After all, I made a number of significant improvements over the years, and those remain a noteworthy part of the overall equation. Here are some positive features of my baseline diet that I’ve observed for some time:

• Daily multivitamin and psyllium husk fiber supplements
• Replace full- and low-fat milk with fat-free/skim
• Virtually eliminate beef intake
• Never, ever add salt to anything (except corn on the cob)
• Cook at home; eating out is a rarity
• Emphasize broccoli as my primary leafy vegetable
• Replace ice cream with sorbet/sherbet or fruit pops
• Replace high-fat sauces like alfredo with low-fat tomato sauces like marinara
• Keep an eye on the ever-changing recommendations regarding eggs, butter vs. oil-based spreads, etc.
• Reduce or eliminate soft drink intake, replace with fruit juices like OJ, apple cider, lime- and lemonade, and fruit punch
• No significant intake of caffeine outside of major events and medicinally
• No alcohol in any form, ever, period

Even after accepting that the hospitalist’s alarmist warning was misguided, I still wanted to make incremental improvements to my diet. Specifically, I wanted to reduce fats, sodium, and simple carbs (beyond my athletic needs). Between my own research and input from my nutritionist and cardiologist, I’ve landed on the following new guidelines:

• Daily statin prescription to keep cholesterol down, even tho my numbers were never high
• Daily Omega-3 fatty acid supplements (algae-based rather than fish oil)
• Whey protein isolate powder supplement
• Eliminate or curtail high-fat foods, particularly commercially-prepared baked goods, cocoa, frozen pizza, etc.
• Read labels to select lower-fat chocolate candies, and healthier salty snacks that are baked or use healthier oils like avocado
• Reduce overall cheese intake, and use 2% milkfat cheese over full-fat
• Sauté and stir-fry in avocado oil rather than corn or peanut oils (it has a higher smoke point than olive oil)
• Substitute ground turkey and pork for ground beef
• Supplement wheat-based pastas with lentil-based
• Favor lower-sodium soups like corn chowder; at some point start making my own soups
• Expand meal repertoire by reintroducing or increasing things like:
  • Boiled chicken
  • Oatmeal (with raisins, sunflower seeds, and dried fruits)
  • Baked beans
  • Mashed potato
  • Sweet potato
  • Nuts, especially hazelnuts
  • Apples

Conclusion

Despite having a longstanding interest in sports nutrition, I never bothered consulting a nutritionist until now. I always doubted whether a nutritionist could add any useful information beyond what any self-educated layman could glean from readily-available public sources.

After a 5-month engagement, I mostly stand by that opinion, although it does need to be refined. My nutritionist helped refute the bad advice I got, and provided some suggestions that were truly useful. But those were largely tactical adjustments, rather than significant course changes. So she definitely did add value… just perhaps not as much as I had hoped for from a licensed medical professional.

I’d be temped to conclude that it wasn’t worth the money, but my health insurance covered the entire tab! All it cost me was time, so in that respect I got way more valuable insights than I paid for.

But I’m still skeptical about whether consulting a nutritionist is worth it for most cyclists or your average non-cyclist. If you have a very particular situation, like I did, then perhaps it would be. But if you’re interested enough to have questions about nutrition, you’re probably also motivated enough to find the answers for yourself, rather than pay someone else to do it for you. A nutritionist really isn’t privy to any information that can’t be found elsewhere.

It absolutely does make all kinds of sense for a cyclist to learn the basics of sports nutrition, and there’s no shortage of available material. For myself, my bookshelf includes the fairly lightweight “Bicycling Magazine’s Nutrition for Peak Performance” by Ed Pavelka, and the more comprehensive “Sports Nutrition for Endurance Athletes” by Monique Ryan. But these days there’s ample other sources, too.

That’s it! Now let’s go eat to ride, and ride to eat!

Sunday September 3 was Mercer County Trails’ annual Pedal the Lakes ride. It was my fifth century of 2022 – eclipsing last year’s total – and my 106th lifetime. So it’s time for a ride report…

I rode PtL in 2016, 2018, and 2019. Following a break during the pandemic, they changed the route and moved the start to Lake Wilhelm. Back in June, the organizers also ran a “Tour of Mercer County” that set out from the PtL’s former home at Riverside Park in Greenville; I had intended to ride that this year, but they decided to withdraw the 100-mile distance option at the last second.

Sunrise over Lake Wilhelm before setting out on the 2022 PtL ride

Swoopy Lake Wilhelm bike trail

Western Pennsylvania farmland

Pymatuning Reservoir dam gatehouse

However, the redesigned PtL did offer a century distance, although riders could only do that by completing their 50km short loop, returning to the start, and then completing a longer 110km loop.

For the most part, the new route didn’t use many roads from the old one, and the few duplicates were traversed in the opposite direction, which often completely changes the experience for someone traveling by bike. We would still hit the Pymatuning Reservoir and Conneaut Lake, but Lake Wilhelm replaced the Shenango Reservoir, and we’d forgo the leg into Ohio to touch Mosquito Creek Lake.

I got up and hopped in the car around 6:30am for the 75-minute drive north and learned that my partner had left me with an eighth of a tank of fuel. That required a side stop for gas in Grove City, undermining my plan to arrive at the start early.

I pulled into the Goddard State Park marina at 8am and checked into the ride. Out of a couple dozen century riders, I was one of only two who hadn’t already signed in and rolled out. The weather was mostly cloudy, but unlike my previous PtL rides, there was no autumn chill, and I was looking forward to a day spent exploring the picturesque western Pennsylvania countryside. I took a late “sunrise over Lake Wilhelm” selfie and set out at 8:30.

The shorter 50km loop began by crossing long-but-narrow Lake Wilhelm on a causeway, then following a bike path 10km southward along the eastern bank of the lake. I saw almost no riders, so it was very quiet, and a pleasant 19º despite being heavily wooded. The path featured occasional views of the lake, several small wooden bridges, and lots of swooping ups and downs that attested that it was definitely not a converted railroad line!

After emerging onto regular roads I pulled into the Stoneboro FD rest stop just after 9am with 16km done. I didn’t need fluid, and the selection of snacks was underwhelming, so I simply said hello, recorded my ride commentary, and rolled on.

The remainder of the 50km loop headed west and north – inland into farmland – before returning to the starting point. The scenic countryside was gently rolling, punctuated with a few small dips and climbs into and out of valleys cut by small streams. There were lots of quiet roads and false flats where one could fly along at 48-42 km/h, which effortlessly ate up the 36km segment in no time.

At 48km century riders had a choice of either saving 8km by immediately joining the outbound 110km route or returning to the marina to completing the full 50km route and beginning the full 110km route from the start. As a completist, I chose not to take the short cut, finishing the short loop at 10:30 in exactly two hours, having ridden 52km and accumulated 460m of climbing. I used the opportunity to hit the bathroom and stop by my car and pick up a frozen bottle of sport drink.

With my century ride now one-third done, I turned around and set out on the longer 110km loop. There was a lot of high haze in the sky, but occasional patches of blue, and the temp had climbed to a still-ideal 23°. 

A long 36km first segment of the big loop took me north and west across country. The air was a little warmer than before, the headwind was a little bit stronger, the farms were a little less scenic, the hills were a little bit bigger, and the legs were a little more used up. As I told my voice recorder, “It’s just becoming a little less of a pleasant touristy ride.”

At 12pm I pulled into the rest stop at the southern end of the immense Pymatuning Reservoir. Despite feeling that I was slowing due to fatigue, I’d covered 90km in 3½ hours, which is an excellent pace for me. Despite making good time, I still hadn’t seen many other riders, which again speaks to the head-start I’d given them by setting out late. Knowing I was already behind on solid food, I downed a chocolate chip cookie and stuffed another one in a jersey pocket, where it would leave a crumbled, melty mess.

The Pymatuning Reservoir is shaped like a boomerang, and the next leg went from the tip of the southern arm across country to the far north-eastern arm. I wistfully rode past the winery that was the lunch stop on the old PtL route and had featured catered pizza and donuts; the ride offered nothing so delicious this year. I stopped briefly to take some pictures at the causeway that crosses the reservoir, where tourists and seagulls flock to see thousands of carp that clog the spillway. It’s allegedly the second most popular tourist destination in all of Pennsylvania, trailing only the Liberty Bell. Then across country to the tony resort town of Conneaut Lake. As you might imagine, these areas were all a lot more built-up, with commensurate traffic volumes and speeds, making for a less pleasant ride.

I hit the Conneaut Lake rest stop at 1:40pm with 126km done and 1,000m of climbing, and met up with a family of four people riding just the longer loop (not the century). I rested for 10 minutes, chatting while munching two bite-sized cookies. The volunteer manning the stop confirmed that I was indeed the last of the century riders.

The penultimate segment was thankfully short, flat, and included a brief stretch on a wooded bike path. But the final rest stop was bizarre. It was a few hundred meters of gravel off the main road, at a seeds-and-biomass facility, where a cooler had been left outside on a card table, and devoid of any attendees save for one huge, geriatric golden retriever. Being well into “survival mode” already, I happily raided the cooler for any remaining ice.

It was 2:30, so I was exactly six hours in. And with 140km under my belt, there was just the final 20km back to the marina. When I wondered aloud whether the last two hills were going to be as bad as they looked on paper, a grimy old man suddenly popped up and said, “Oh yeah, they are!” That was enough to prompt me to saddle up and skedaddle back to the main road.

The next 10km was me crawling over those two evil hills and through a village called “Custards”, nursing all the aches and pains in my butt, the backs of my knees, my right calf, and right big toe.

Then, just when you thought the pain would be over, I realized that I was just about on track to complete my century within seven hours, which is something of an achievement. So the final 10km was me burying myself, in an all-out time-trialling effort, tapping whatever strength I had left to break seven hours.

The odometer tripped 100 miles on the return over the causeway across Lake Wilhelm, just a few hundred meters before the marina, where I stopped at 3:34pm. I’d completed the century (162km) in seven hours exactly, with 1,371m of climbing, and a 25.5 km/h average speed.

So that was the ride… Now for some final observations.

Back before the pandemic, Pedal the Lakes was always a nice, relaxed late summer / early autumn ride: a final long expedition of the year following the hectic insanity of July and August. It was really nice to get back to that.

The new route has pluses and minuses. There’s less busy roads, a lot fewer painful oil-and-chip surfaces, and the lakeside bike path was interesting. Having the century ride comprised of two loops was fine, with the shorter loop being more scenic, but the longer loop including more lakes. Even though much of the course is delightfully flat (-ish) I do think you need to be well-prepared for this one, with those two big 100m climbs in the final 20km.

I will say that I’m a little disappointed in the support, although that’s mostly due to far exceeding my expectations in previous years, when we were treated to brownies, donuts, fresh pizza for lunch, and chocolate milk at the finish. And there was no ice available, except for what residue I could scoop out of a couple drink coolers. Perhaps because of that, I suffered by not eating enough: the equivalent of about two cookies during a 3,100 kCal effort.

I remain divided about my own performance. On the down side, I felt like my stamina and my legs didn’t hold up quite as much as I would have liked, and I wound up trailing the other riders by some unknown margin. On the other hand, I finished feeling reasonably strong and set an objectively good time. Those two contradictory aspects just don’t add up well in my head.

All that aside, I really enjoyed the ride and would certainly do it again. It was a wonderful tour of the western Pennsylvania countryside, and a fun day out on the bike, albeit riding solo.

And, as usual, it’s a fitting end to cycling’s high season, and a segue into the more relaxed, less stressful rides of autumn. I’m looking forward to that!

The first weeks of focused Dirty Dozen training are interrupted by the final long charity ride of the year: the Woiner Foundation’s 3-2-1 Ride.

At this time of year a completely flat metric century requires very little effort, so I don’t worry about any physical impact on my training. The biggest risk is if the date collides with one of the Dirty Dozen training rides, which this year it did not.

The Woiner Foundation supports research and treatment of pancreatic cancer and melanoma. Although I registered and fundraised for last year’s 3-2-1 Ride, I couldn’t participate because I had to unexpectedly fly to Maine to take care of my mother. So participating in and completing the 3-2-1 Ride was one of my expressed cycling goals for 2017.

Ornoth Starting 3-2-1 Ride @ Ohiopyle

Misty Morning Yough

Yough at Ohiopyle from GAP trail

The Red Waterfall

For the event’s fifth year, in addition to the traditional metric century route starting in Connellsville, they gave top fundraisers the option of an 80-mile VIP ride starting in Ohiopyle, the site of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater house, as well as a memorable stop for me during the 2000 DargonZine Summit. Between the ride itself and the additional 14 miles of riding to and from the start at Heinz Field, I figured I’d extend it for my sixth (and final) century of the year.

Friday’s pre-ride packet pickup should have been named “luggage pickup”, as I collected my bib number, VIP rider’s jersey, a windbreaker, the event tee shirt, two water bottles, and two goody bags full of keychains, chain lube, sunblock, coupons, event info, assorted flyers, etc. I was given the choice of any bib number from 2 to 50, and opted for number 11.

Saturday was the off day between packet pickup and Sunday’s ride. But it was also the date of the first Dirty Dozen group training ride of the year. I attended that, which was of course a hard workout, covering four of the thirteen hills. Not ideal preparation less than 24 hours before a century…

Sunday morning I was up at 4:30. The temp was only 45 in Pittsburgh, and a stingy 37 in Ohiopyle, necessitating extra cold-weather gear. However, it was supposed to be 67 by the time we finished, and that huge temperature spread meant that I’d eventually have to stow all my extra gear, as well. The extra-quiet 5am ride to the start was cold, but I was fine except for my ears.

After checking in, I waited until the last minute to put my bike on the truck, thinking “last in, first out”. There were only about 25 riders on the bus to Ohiopyle, but that included FOAF Jen Braun.

During the 90-minute bus ride down to Ohiopyle, as the sun reluctantly rose I kept an eye out for fog. There was a lot of it around, especially in the valleys. Eventually we were deposited in a river outfitter’s parking lot, and I led the group march up to the bathrooms.

As planned, my bike was the first off the accompanying cargo truck. I grabbed it, did my final setup, and rolled out a little before 8am. No ceremonial group start for this group! Before leaving town, I stopped briefly to get some photos of the river and a selfie in front of the former Ohiopyle train depot at the Great Allegheny Passage (GAP) trailhead.

After that, it was just a whole lot of crushed limestone rail trail, with virtually no other people in sight. Although I wouldn’t call the scenery monotonous, it was definitely mile after mile of the same thing: a steep wooded hillside going upward on my left, a flat spot for the trail, and then a wooded hillside sloping down about 50 feet to the Youghioheny River on the right, with more woods on the far shore. It didn’t seem deserving of the local nickname “the Yough”, which is pronounced “Yuck”.

A little earlier in the year the trail would have been inundated with wildflowers; a little later, and you’d have beautiful fall foliage. But despite the odd timing, it was very scenic. There wasn’t much fog, which I ascribed to the rapidly-moving water, but the misty morning still provided ample photo ops.

About 18 miles into the ride we crossed through Connellsville, where the metric century riders had started their ride. There was a little more foot and bike traffic on the trail near these small towns along the way, especially as the day warmed up. However, past Connellsville the trail wasn’t quite as scenic as that section starting out in Ohiopyle.

The riding was easy, with the early sections being an imperceptible descent transitioning into pan-flat. My GPS registered a stunning 3.3 feet of climbing per mile, making it by far the flattest ride you’ll ever find around Pittsburgh. It was very comfortable riding… at least at first.

One of the downsides of the 80-mile VIP route was that there were no extra water stops; we wouldn’t reach our first one until mile 45, at Cedar Creek Park in Port Royal. By then it was 10:30am and I needed food and fluid, since my winter gloves prohibited eating anything I carried with me while riding. Sadly, all they had were unripe bananas and a horrible sugar-free “electrolyte drink” with the same nutritional “benefits” as the emetic ipecac. No sports drink at all! I settled for one Rice Krispy Treat and unadulterated water.

Rolling on, things got uncomfortable. The lack of any descending meant it was impossible to coast. I had to keep pumping my legs incessantly, which began to grate after three or four hours. And getting out of the saddle to stretch only reminded me that I’d climbed four of the steepest hills in Pittsburgh the day before. On top of that, the unforgivable lack of food and drink left me weaker and more depleted than usual. And with the temperature rising through the mid-60s, I was starting to poach inside my winter gear, despite the easy pace.

It was all topped off by the frustration of being unable to operate my bike computer, because the touchscreen wouldn’t respond to my full-fingered winter gloves. In a deliriously joyful flash of insight I realized that if I bent down toward my handlebars, I could operate the touchscreen with my one bare extremity—my nose!—but the screen became unreadable after three or four swipes of a sweaty, greasy nose.

An hour and a half of that kind of thing, and I arrived at the second rest stop: in Boston (PA). This is where everything turned around and started going right for me again. To begin with, Boston was my first sighting of familiar territory; it was the farthest I’d ridden down the GAP (or up the Yough) from Pittsburgh, which meant the end was getting closer.

It had turned into a beautiful day, so I stripped off my excess gear: winter jacket, arm warmers, winter gloves, and leg warmers. It felt great, but it took some time and effort to jam all that stuff into my saddle bag and jersey pockets!

More importantly, there was food! They had a variety pack of snacks, so I ate a bag of sour cream & onion potato chips, and a bag of barbecue potato chips, and a bag of cheese curls, and some of the dried fruit left in my pockets. Although they still only had water and that ipecac drink, I spent $2 on a bottle of Gatorade from the trailside souvenir shop, so I was able to get back onto my regular fueling protocol.

Things got even better after convincing myself to get back on the bike. The trail transitioned to asphalt, making for a much smoother and easier ride. While the crushed limestone surface hadn’t been bad, I’d worried about the chance of getting a flat tire.

In no time we reached McKeesport, which is my frequent turn-around point on my excursions from Pittsburgh. A few days earlier, there’d been a big coal train derailment that had caused a detour for trail users, but we used the usual route, seeing only a few workers finishing some cleanup.

90 minutes later, at 2pm I crossed the Allegheny and rolled down toward Heinz Field. I passed under the finish line balloon arch, but the event photographers weren’t in the mood to capture that moment. Still, I claimed my VIP finisher’s medal and rolled over to the food tent.

I spent some time munching at the finish line, cheering riders coming in and giving feedback to Ric, one of the event’s founders. I made sure to emphasize the near-fatal drink mixes.

After not-quite-enough rest, I hopped back on the bike for the ride home. Instead of going directly, I went up the Allegheny, climbed up through Highland Park, and across town. That added just enough mileage for me to finish with an even 100 miles, completing that sixth century of the year.

Not yet complete, however, was the desperately-needed cleaning of the bike, which—after 65 miles on a crushed limestone bike trail—was absolutely filthy. Ugh!

As expected, the 3-2-1 Ride was a nice experience, and I enjoyed being able to participate, after having been out of town last year. It was fun being able to ride back from Ohiopyle, over a long section of the GAP trail that I’ve never seen before. Although it shares the late-season time slot, it didn’t interfere at all with my Dirty Dozen training. It was nice to support a small but growing grassroots cycling fundraiser early in its history. And I added another $590 to my already impressive sum of money raised for charity, and specifically for cancer research, treatment, and prevention.

A proficient cyclist rolling down the road is an image of liquid grace, economy of motion, and effortless speed. Like a soaring seagull, otters playing in the water, a swan gliding along the surface of a pond, or deer running through a forest.

Whether it’s a seagull in flight or a cyclist on a long ride, grace comes from an organism adapting to its particular environment. Over years of training, the roadie has developed a very specific skill set, and his body has adapted to suit it.

But that seagull is not so elegant if forced to walk down a cobblestone alley. An otter trying to climb stairs is nothing but awkward. When that swan ambles down Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, he looks completely alien. And have you ever watched deer swimming in the ocean? They suck at it.

And like any other highly-adapted being, when the cyclist steps off the bike, out of his natural environment, he too loses all sense of dignity; he looks stupid.

Following that unnatural moment when he plants two feet on the ground, the illusion of grace is irrevocably shattered. He walks gingerly, like an arthritic, top-heavy mallard. He’s all gangly knees, legs, and hands. Don’t ask him to bend to touch his toes, because he can’t. His underdeveloped hamstrings barely allow him to reach his knees.

The accoutrements that make him suited for the road—the special shoes, the protective sunglasses, the Lycra shorts, and the high-visibility clothing—all look ridiculous in an everyday pedestrian context.

But taking his “kit” away reveals an underlying reality that’s even worse. His deeply tanned arms and legs are horribly betrayed by the sad, sickly-pale areas around his hands, eyes, feet, and torso. He looks like a farmer who spends every day on his tractor, or someone who fell asleep in a tanning booth with their clothes still on! He lives in deathly fear of going to the beach, where his cyclist’s tan makes him a laughingstock.

On one hand, the cyclist looks woefully underfed, like the proverbial scrawny Ethiopian in an advertisement for world hunger relief. But at table he eats like a ravenous hawg, consuming three or four times as much food as any normal person. But people hate him all the more for it, because he never seems to put on an ounce weight.

The one enviable aspect of a cyclist’s body that doesn’t miraculously disappear is his legs. Usually clean-shaven, well-defined, and tanned bronze, they’re probably the best legs you’ve ever seen. That is, if they’re not covered by disgustingly exaggerated varicose veins…

In their daily lives, most normal people don’t pay any attention when a cyclist rides by, because the cyclist is pretty unremarkable while quietly operating in his natural element. But like that swan in Manhattan, everyone both notices and remembers cyclists when they’re walking around awkwardly, looking stupid.

However, if you take the time to really study the cyclist when he’s doing his thing, you might be surprised to see someone much like yourself, flying effortlessly down the road, mile after mile, with the grace of a dancer, the elegance of a bird in flight, and the exuberant joy of an otter at play.

And you might realize that a cyclist is perhaps not such a ridiculous, pitiable thing for people to be, after all.

This week is the halfway point in my ten-part weekly series of hints, tips, pointers, and advice for other Pan-Mass Challenge charity riders. These are the things I've learned during more than a decade of participating in the PMC.

The full list of posts will be compiled and permanently available online at http://www.ornoth.com/bicycling/hints.php

Whether you're a first-timer or a longtime veteran, may you find these ideas useful, and I hope you have a wonderful PMC experience!

This week we look at the things you need to do leading up to the event: Pre-Ride Prep!

• Bring your bike into the shop for a tune-up 1-2 months before the ride. Not last minute.
• Avoid making any major changes to the bike or its fit in the final weeks before the ride.
• Taper your training the week before the ride. Do at most a couple *very* easy rides, just to keep your legs loose. It's nice to start the PMC well rested, with peak fitness and replenished desire to spend time in the saddle.
• Be sure to get plenty of sleep the days before the ride.
• Drink lots of water in the 48 hours before the ride, right up to the start. Start the ride a bit overhydrated.
• Clean and lube your bike and do a short, very easy shakedown cruise the day before the ride, just to make sure everything works and is ready to go.
• While you should eat well, you really don't need to overeat before the ride. Just be sure to eat something lowfat and low-fiber the morning of the ride, preferably an hour or two before the start.
• Some people make it a true pan-Massachusetts ride by riding from the NY border to Sturbridge on the Friday before the official ride. If you want to do this, do serious hill training, and contact one of those groups to ride with.
• When you check in to the event, immediately run to the restroom and try on your event jersey (and shorts, if applicable) to be sure they fit (sizing can change from year to year). If you need to exchange them, you can do so right there at registration.
• Catch the opening ceremonies Friday evening. Really. Usually Billy also gives a speech before the cameras go on-air. If you can't get into the (sweltering) auditorium, it's simulcast in an overflow tent behind the hotel, and on live television, as well.

Next week's topic: Packing.

Over the past few months, I’ve been re-reading my back catalog of cycling magazines, pulling out points that I thought were worth remembering and/or sharing. Installment number three contains all kinds of crazy health and nutrition advice.

• The average person has a resting heart rate of 60-80 beats per minute, with the average at 72. Trained cyclists' are usually lower, due to the cardiac fitness that comes with training. It is not unusual for conditioned athletes to get below 50 BPM. Elite cyclists have the lowest resting heart rates ever observed. Although I've only just started this year's training, my RHR this morning was 57 BPM.
• If you keep wounds somewhat moist, rather than letting them dry, they are less likely to scab over and develop scars.
• Cyclists are at high risk of repetitive stress injuries to the knees, specifically chondromalacia, osteoarthritis, IT band syndrome, and patellofemoral pain syndrome. Most of these can be prevented by proper bike fitting, spinning rather than mashing, and having an adequate training base for the workload. Icing the knee is usually beneficial, but do not ice for more than 20 minutes.
• Endurance cycling has been linked with bone loss tending toward osteopenia and osteoporosis, since it is non-weight bearing and copious amounts of calcium can be lost through sweat. A cyclist can lose 200mg of calcium (the amount in a cup of milk) in just one hour of riding. A 7-hour century can cost a rider 1400mg, which is more than the US daily recommended intake. A cyclist training 12 hours a week loses 2440mg per week, which can add up year after year. This is compounded because dietary calcium is not readily absorbed, and kidney stones can form on an intake of as little as 2500mg per day. Absorption is improved by vitamin D and by taking calcium in gradually throughout the day. Calcium citrate is a preferred supplement to calcium carbonate. Stay far away from carbonated sodas, because the phosphoric acid leaches calcium from the bloodstream and bones.
• It is suggested that potatoes be stored in the refrigerator, and that root vegetables like carrots and beets can be stored in the pantry.
• A cyclist can burn in excess of 4,500 kilocalories riding a century at 15 mph. That's the caloric equivalent of four pints of Haagen Dazs ice cream.
• Frozen concentrated orange juice usually has significantly more vitamin C per cup than the not-from-concentrate "fresh" juices. Unfrozen, both types lose 2 percent of their vitamin C per day. If you like spicy food, note that hot peppers have 350 percent more vitamin C by weight than oranges.
• Roasted peanuts have more antioxidants than strawberries, apples, and many other fruits.
• Your body can only process about 60g of carbohydrate per hour, so ingesting more will only lead to digestive upset and delayed flushing of the stomach.
• Some popular junk foods fuel the body just as well as sports bars and gels. Good examples include waffles, bagels, graham crackers, vanilla wafers, salted cashews, and Payday candy bars. A quarter cup of raisins has 31g of carbohydrate, plus potassium which assists in muscle contractions. Fig Newtons are particularly good, two of them providing 22g of carb, 1g of fiber, plus potassium, iron, and calcium. Animal crackers can provide 46g of carb plus calcium. Gummi bears are easy to carry and pack 34g of carb plus protein. Pop Tarts provide 39g of carb, and Twizzlers have more carb per calorie than energy gels. Rice Krispies Treats are a great energy bar you can make at home.
• Similarly, for recovery, sugary kids' cereals are just as good as expensive sports recovery drinks, with the same balance of 70 percent carbs and 15 percent protein. Suggested brands: Cheerios, Froot Loops, Cap'n Crunch with Crunchberries, and Frosted Flakes. Another optimal post-workout recovery drink is fat free chocolate milk.
• The “pez” in Pez candies is short for the German word “pfefferminz”, or “peppermint”, their original flavor. Originally marketed as a health food and an aid to smoking cessation, the trademark Pez dispensers were designed to mimic cigarette lighters.

Allow me to introduce you to one of the most sublime delights of life. I call it “Corrugated Fun”.

What is it? It’s a frappe, or a “milkshake” if you are one of those benighted people who don’t have enough vocabulary to differentiate between an ice cream drink and flavored milk.

When you say “frappe”, most people think vanilla, chocolate, and maybe strawberry. This shows, as Captain Spock would point out, “two-dimensional thinking”. What stops you from ordering a frappe made with a more interesting flavor of ice cream? If you’re Ornoth, the correct answer is, of course, nothing.

So here’s the secret recipe. Corrugated Fun is a frappe made with chocolate chip ice cream (and vanilla syrup). When properly made, the chocolate chips are suspended in a thick, slurpable vanilla ice cream medium, such that one has to chew up choco-bits after every sip.

And when you finish the drink, the bottom of your cup is lined with still more bits of chocolate, looking for all the world like savory semi-sweet coffee grounds. That’s the “corrugated” part.

The “fun” part is that the thing is stupidly delicious. It’s like a chocolate-laced double shot of vanilla sweetness, and it goes down just right on a hot summer day. I encourage you to give it a try.

The history of Corrugated Fun goes back to my childhood, and one of my first lengthy bike rides, although it wasn’t even 10 miles round trip. I couldn’t have been very far into my teens when I rode with a friend or two down Sewall Street into Hallowell, then onto busy Route 201 to Webber’s ice cream stand in Farmingdale. I dunno what came over me, but it was pure inspired genius: a frappe with chocolate chip ice cream. A lifetime commitment was born.

Since then, I’ve always judged an ice cream stand by the Corrugated Fun it can produce. I usually frequent Kimball’s in Carlisle, which is right there on 225—one of the roads I bike most often—but it’s always nice to see what other shops can serve up.

For me, Corrugated Fun is as much a part of summer as riding a bike, and they’re best when combined. Well, except… just remember to give the ice cream a chance to settle before you get back onto the bike, mmkay?

Over the course of the past six years, I’ve made cumulative changes to my diet, in the interest of improving its quality. Cycling has, of course, been a primary driver, but it’s been reinforced by an overall interest in healthier living and some efforts at broadening the dishes that I cook for myself.

I’ve had a list of “things to avoid” on my fridge for a while, and I thought it might be worth sharing.

Some of the items on this list I avoid almost entirely. Some I abstain from only during the cycling season. And some I simply keep an eye on. However, in most cases, I try to stick with the healthier alternatives listed in the right-hand column.

There are many other choices one can make that will lead to a healthier diet, but I can’t list them all here. Choosing frozen vegetables in a low-fat sauce rather than butter, or buying a fat-free pound cake can dramatically change how much bad stuff you ingest. And for me, “bad stuff” equates to fats and sodium and caffeine, and nutrients to maximize are calcium, dietary fiber, and complex carbs. But when it comes to nutrition, you have to find what’s right for you. Remember that an endurance athlete’s metabolic needs are very different from a sedentary office worker’s needs.

There’s a ton of great information available about endurance sports nutrition, and cycling nutrition in particular, and I have no intention of attempting to summarize it all here; however, interested cyclists can definitely find ample material on topics including why you don’t need to eat a lot of meat, how to stay hydrated, whether and how to carbo-load, what and how to eat on the bike, and much, much more.

Though having said that, I guess I will mention what I might carry for food on my bike: dried berry mix, granola bars, Rice Krispy Treats, strips of fruit leather, a banana, maybe some Twizzlers, and the inevitable liter bottle of Gatorade. But again, everyone’s metabolism is different, and you definitely need to figure out what works best for you.