First Sighting: The Milk of Human Suffering, 2008 Version

Early Spring / late Winter may be the most capricious time of year, meteorologically.

Two days ago, I had a hypothermia event on the side of the road. I was mildly hypothermic, right down to the being even stupider-than-usual.

Today? The forecast was for 57 degrees at 7:00 AM. Turns out it was 61. I was unsure what to wear - the shortsleeve jerseys have only been out of the closet for trainer rides, for the Quarterly Futile Attempt at Bike Closet Organization, and for one memorable ride where I needed team colors and all the long sleeves were in the wash, so on it went over perhaps 5 base layers.

I had to whip it out today. I started with a shortsleeve base layer which my Internal Farmer's Almanac said would be perfect for this weather and a long zone 2 ride. Then Sainted Wife opined I'd surely freeze. It's mid-February, the forecast was for the mid-50's.

My confidence rattled - she knows how to do this and in fact probably made a living before we met as a confidence rattler - I put on a longsleeve base layer. Sainted Wife was happy. I was happy. I set off.

Within 20 minutes, I was completely unzipped, jersey flapping in the breeze. I was also sweating balls, in spite of the 15 MPH wind, which changed directions constantly. It took about an hour before I had the first sighting.

Sighting of what, you ask? Why, the Milk of Human Suffering™, of course. That's how I refer to my sweat. Now most people sweat a little, but I have always sweated a lot. Even as a skinny young guy, I would always sweat like mad. I was always too warm. This was great for doing cold weather army training - I'd be stripped down to a T-shirt and busting ass working on a track, or setting up a big tent or unloading a conex, while everybody else was bundled up and moving slow, a combination of numb and clumsy.

Being naturally overheated doesn't do much for you in bike racing world however. I sweat just as much and it's kind of irritating. We're not talking about a sheen of sweat, or some droplets. When I get rolling, a rivulet of sweat runs out of my helmet, the front and center part, every time I lean my head forward. Now *that* is the Milk of Human Suffering™. I know I'm going hard when I get that kind of sweat going. See, it's not like normal sweat. It's sweat in such quantities, that it needs its own sort of epic name. Really. I'm the only guy I know who rides pretty decently, but can also 'milk' his helmet after a ride. The only thing keeping me from having a half gallon of water in the thing at ride's end, is that Bell's helmet pads only hold about a pint.

Native Americans Preferred Sweat Lodges
Over Base Layers for Causing Hallucinations
& Experiencing Total Enlightenment

And peyote. Can't forget that. 'Less you take too much of it.

Anyways, I don't just sweat that way going hard. It happens if I dress wrong and get overheated. I get the same thing in 95+ degree riding weather when the humidity is up, or if I'm overdressed to a dire extent, which I was today. The long sleeve base layer wasn't appreciably heavier than the short sleeve - it's just that uncovered arms are a wonderful radiator for the body. Just a little thing like that - covered arms - opens the spigots.

Cat IV's Prefer Helly Hansen
Personal American Sweat Lodge

To make a long story about a really trivial matter medium short, I cooked for three hours today. And I'm cool with that, so to speak.

Raise your right hand and smile
if you like to sweat like Jim!

Significance? I don't know if there was any. The drenched-in-sweat byline wasn't really important. Any bad vibe from the Johnstown Flood in my hair was outweighed by the rest of the ride. It was just a nice day, and I had a nice ride. Basebuilding rides are a lot of fun when the weather is nice; this is why I *adore* charity centuries - 5 hours of basebuilding, and they try to feed you every 20 miles. How awesome is that?

Today I sweated hard, drank plenty, ate minimally, thought about how great it is to be alive and riding and having a Monday off. I came in cooked since the last hour was my 9th hour of zone 2 riding in three days, a pretty big hit of training volume since my winter has basically involved riding easy once or twice a week then hitting the MTB hard-ish once or twice a week.

The only significance of today, I guess, is that when I start to sweat in short sleeve jerseys, it means that real spring and the real outdoor riding season, with road races and farmer tans and young punks dropping me on steep hills is just around the corner. That's ride, loyal readers: your sweaty groundhog has seen his sweat puddle, and the winter will be over soon.

Oh yeah, that, and I finally tried that trick of showering with my helmet. A combination of Suave shampoo and Axe body wash has that thing smelling... well, different from its usual dead skunk's ass smell, to the extent my wife actually got within 10 feet of the helmet this afternoon without getting dizzy. So I'll have to remember that trick for helmet washing when I go to wash it again, some time next year, for sure.