Week number three of pretty decent hours on the bike is complete. Nothing out of this world, mind you, but pretty good none the less. With running and my ever so manly pilates I was just a BCH under 10 hours for the week. With riding up, my weight is on the way down as well. A bit over a month ago I was peaking at 200-202 lbs. Right up there with sir eats a lot. Now, I'm hovering at 193 lbs. Still a bit portly for my taste and about 3 christmas turkeys away from the truly svelt, ideal body composition, road racer types. Of course, there is no scientific way for me to become 5'-6" and 145 lbs so I'll be happy with what I can accomplish. At this rate, I should be able to hit my goal weight of 185 by the time the season starts. That's if I can stay away from good beer that is. I made the rash decision over the weekend to try the non-beer that is endorsed by his high and mighty himself. That's right, Michelob Ultra. Be still my beating taste buds. I was apprehensive to try it but I have to admit, it wasn't half bad. No, it's not a full bodied IPA but it lets me feel like I'm having a beer but I'm not getting drunk and bloated. Win, win I guess.
Over the weekend, I was also able to bust out some trail work. First up was to re-route a wet area on an existing trail near the house. A couple hours of clipping and raking and it's near completion, just have to get out there mattock (don't have access to a pulaski) and do some bench cutting and it will be complete. I've ridden it a couple of times already and it should ride well. We also cut a bunch of trail around the house over the weekend which was great for a couple of reasons. First, Marcy and Brynna helped with a bunch of it and Brynna was totally into helping and even did a couple of laps (running) on one of the trails after it was completed. We only have about 4 minutes worth of trail on the property so far but the possibilities are nearly limitless.
the dog du-jour. our parent's dog while they are on vaca
putting the kid to work. if aliens abducted our family over the weekend, they would assume that tennis balls grow from a dog's mouth based on how often this mutt has one jammed in there.