VO2 Max

Saturday: monster bike ride. Across the Golden Gate, through Sausalito and Mill Valley, up to Mount Tamalpais, down to Stinson Beach, up past Muir Woods to Panoramic and down Highway 1 to Tam Junction. And back. 51.64 miles. But the climbing. Hoary, brain-deadening, spirit-snuffing climbs. The heroic shackles of two chainrings.

Hills always exact a toll. The difference, in my experience, between being in shape and not, is that when you're out of shape the toll is mental. It's spiritual. It's a hammer striking on the anvil of your psyche. Deep, resounding, existential despair. Boundless misery. On the other hand, if you've got good VO2 max, well, yes, there's the lactic acid, the burn in the legs and lungs, you're drooling and your nose is still running and somewhere you know if this continues you will vomit, but it's just a physical thing. You watch the systemic breakdown with disinterest. The mind is on the grocery list or that evening's blog entry, and then you're ready for the next hill.

And now, an epiphany on Gatorade:

I am a slender man, a slight man, a man without fatty, paunchy reserves on which to draw. So this ride was a hard lesson in electrolytes. And replacing them. I mocked the urinous stream issuing from my friend's bottle of Accelerade, the highly suspect cellophane bag of Endurox powder from which he made apres-ride recovery drink. Truth be told, though, I was trashed. I needed....zinc. Copper. Something. Some way to recover the precious metals -- along with the potassium, sodium, magnesum, and the other common stuff you see in brightly-colored, toxic piles by railroad sidings -- which had leached out of my pores on the hot climb up to Pan Toll station.

So today I blew $72.99 plus tax on Accelerade and Endurox. Sure, it's half my take-home pay, but in the 00's, it's all about hydration catalysts.