Terrible night of sleep. But the morning’s sleep was better. Usually, I go to bed when I’m dead tired, but I went earlier and just … laid there for about six hours. Also, both cats decided it was my turn to be their personal space heaters. One cat is fine. Both cats are a furnace.
I looked at the weather, and then I looked at the forecasts for family. So, today, after doing a bunch of work, I called my grandfather to see if he was prepared for snow and ice. It seems he’ll have a harder winter weekend than we will. He assured me he is prepared to stay indoors. The porch has already been treated. He has the traditional French toast provisions. He gets the joke, but not being adventurous with cuisine, I doubt he’s ever eaten French toast. Nevertheless, he’s ready to watch the weather come and go. I asked him when it was supposed to warm up for him.
“Springtime!”
Nowhere near soon enough.
Though we’re now forecast to hit 41 degrees this weekend. I might set up a sprinkler and go run around in it.
I spent today working on class stuff for the spring semester. It’s just that for the next 12 days until class begins. Honestly, 12 days probably isn’t enough time. But I have the outlines for the first three weeks of class prepared. Another two or three hours will make me properly prepared to navigate through them. And tomorrow, and part of the weekend, I’ll continue building outlines.
It’s terribly exciting stuff, I know. It is, if you like the subject matter. Lucky for me, I do. We’re going to talk about globalization and media and culture in the first three weeks and, looking through what is in store, I want to talk about them right now, but all those days will be here soon enough, leaving me plenty of time to prepare.
Except there’s never enough time to prepare. The class I’m working on right now meets twice a week, for 75 minutes. I haven’t taught a class of that length in several years. Three, maybe four key points per day. It is a mental shift, and a lot to prepare for.
Tomorrow, I’ll figure out how to boil down the entire history of recorded communication into a class session or two. And then figure out what I can omit for a unit on global cinema, and then another for an entire planet’s worth of television. These are challenging choices.
So, I’m left with the idea that it’s a good thing that I don’t have months and months to prepare; I’d agonize over it. I know that, for certain, because that’s what I’ve done every time I’ve sat down with it over the past several months.
I’ve been working my way through a sprint series of Zwift this week. I’ll do a workout, and then round out the day with some free riding to get about 30 miles in. Yesterday, I did a workout inspired by the outrageous style of Mathieu van der Poel. He’s a six-time world champion in cyclocross, and a world champion in gravel bike. Two titles he currently holds, in fact. He’s been the European champion in mountain bike. He also wins stages in grand tours and in the European monuments and classics. Also, he’s been world champion on the road, too. The exercise was meant to name drop him and try, with a straight face, to convince you that you’re emulating the attacking style of one of the best riders of his or any generation. (There are maybe three generational talents on the road right now, including perhaps the best ever; it is absurd.) Surge and recover and surge and recover. Then go over your threshold some more.
Do that eight times, and you’re just like Mathieu!
The training session has little messages on it, and I was having a good ride, and I was sure it was going to say something laughable like that. “You’re ready to race MvdP!” I was ready to mock it endlessly. But they held off.
From his Tour of Flanders win in 2023 …
In great news for wattage fans globally, MVDP has even uploaded his power data. You might want to take a seat before reading this next section. Van der Poel averaged a stunning 285 watts for the 6.5 hours with a peak power of 1,406 W. That’s 1,406 watts in the final seconds of a six-hour-and-thirty-four-minute-long race. Most of us could barely say “1,406 watts” at the end of a 280 km ride, let alone hit such a figure. MVDP’s heart rate monitor also had a tough day at the office. With an average heart rate of 141 bpm and a max of 189 bpm, the Dutch superstar’s heart rate was the only thing faster than his speedo(meter).
If you don’t know what that means, it means a lot. It means something nearly incomprehensible to mortal human beings.
I don’t care about watts — I have a shirt that says “More Pulse Less Watts” — but that’s the central metric of the workout. I was doing but a fraction of that yesterday. And I did it for about 90 minutes, rather than all day.
But I set five new Strava PRs yesterday. Four of them on climbs. (Take that, Mathieu!)
Today’s workout was a long segment with eight sprints in it. I hated most every second of it. But I kept getting these great canned messages from the app. Usually they are of the “You’re getting stronger,” standard rah-rah. But in today’s workout …
Read the room, Zwift.
After 24 miles going from sprint to sprint to sprint — some of them a bit uphill, mind you — and a few more miles just passing the time, I found I’d set Strava PRs on five of those eight sprint segments.
When they don’t feel especially fast it just means you are especially slow!
