Crank It Up

On the Rim Outside of Payson - May, 2001

According to the folks at Scottsdale Weight Loss Center, there is one constant among the patients that have kept their weight off; just one thread that runs through each successful maintenance program…exercise. If I remember correctly, 75% of those exercisers do nothing more than walk.

I have lost 84 pounds now, I weigh in at 332. Soon I will cross the 100 pound mark and soon the rate of my weight loss will slow. One way to keep up the pace is to increase my activity.

I have never been much of an exerciser. I have had my moments in the few days of my life I managed to be thin. But I didn’t maintain the program and the weight has always come back on. These days I do little, everyday things to burn a few calories; take the stairs, park far from the door, take the long way to get somewhere and even the occasional intentional stroll. It all helps, it all adds up. But lately I have felt the need to up level the effort and walking, let alone running just doesn’t ring my bell. So, my mind went immediately to the one exercise I actually like, maybe even love.

Last time I was losing weight I found myself at Crested Butte in Colorado. I had dropped 100 pounds and was amazed at how much easier it was to get around. I decided to do something completely out of character, perhaps even risky; I rented a mountain bike. The bike was hung on the back of a chair lift and bicycle and I were lifted half-way up the Butte. They dropped us off, bike and me and pointed to the “easy trail.” “That obvious” I asked? “Not really,” my guide lied. “Good Luck!”

Wow! What a ride! The easy trail was all downhill on gravel or paved roads. I still weighed 325 pounds, so gravity grabbed hold of every ounce and yanked me down that hill at incredible, even scary speeds. I flew by smaller, lighter, even stronger folks like they were standing still; 21 gears and muscular legs were no match for the laws of motion. I nearly lost control several times, skidded on turns, superheated the brake pads but kept my balance. I was sure with just a little more speed I could pull back on the handle bars and be airborne.

At the end of the run my heart was racing, my whole body trembled from the adrenaline. My face was covered in dust and tears from the wind had streaked my face with the war paint of a victorious outing. I rode up to the rental place, it was getting on toward sunset and I thought they may be looking to call it an afternoon. I couldn’t wait to share my excitement, though I suspected he had heard it many times before. Yet, when I reached him, the strangest words came out of my mouth. “Do I have time to go again?”

“Sure,” came the reply. Obviously this guy had experienced that same feeling and would not deny me a late afternoon flight down Crested Butte. I pledged right then that when I reached 250 pounds, as my reward, I would buy my own mountain bike. And I did.

Sadly the weight soon returned and the beloved GT i-Drive went into storage where it’s been for close to ten years. Tires flat and cracked, tubes rotting, cables frozen, everything covered with dust; the faded picture of happier times, times filled with fun, adventure and hope.

But today the tomb is empty. As I type this, my GT sits in the living room, cleaned up, tuned up, with new tubes, new tires and refurbished shifters. We are reunited once again, ready for our new adventures from the canals of Phoenix, to Papago Park, to White Mountain trails, to a long overdue ride with my son, an avid rider himself and maybe even a return trip to Crested Butte.

I asked one of the instructors at the Scottsdale Weight Loss Center, “How do you define exercise.” She replied, “Anything more than what you’re doing now, no matter how small.” Today I managed about 100 yards in the saddle; after 10 years, at 332 pounds and in 115 degree heat there’s just one thing to say…

Wow! What a ride!

Billie