#Thanksgiving: Getting The Bird on the Bike

Happy F'n Thanksgiving

The email from our VP read, “To help get you on your way for Thanksgiving, we’re closing the shop at 2pm on Wednesday.”  With a building full of the nerdy music weirdoes you made fun of in college, sometimes it’s hard to think of a radio station as a business, let alone a shop.  However, if you’re the creative weirdo making commercials for a 4-day Black Friday weekend on a three day work week at one of the most popular stations in town, yeah, it’s sort of like an assembly line.  Hit record, read copy, add holiday music, sprinkle with magic festive fairy dust…repeat.  The magic fairy dust is the hard part.  I was home, changed and on my bike by 3 o’clock.  My wife was out picking up “the bird.” 

In our vegan case, I’m not really sure what “the bird” is, but there are six drumsticks, …err…breasts, …hmm, …yummy looking lumpy brown things in our fridge.  They came with the Whole Foods vegan Thanksgiving dinner which also includes gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beaners and a whole apple pie.  Heat and serve.  This is our first Thanksgiving without a real turkey.  I’m not going to miss it.  I only wish Whole Foods gave us enough for leftovers.

Gardein...It's vegan for Turkey.

With temps in the 50’s and party sunny skies, I headed out to do some 30-on 30-off intervals on a hilly local route we call the Amsterdam loop.  I wasn’t about to waste a rare sunny workday afternoon in November banging out relentless intervals on a single hill.  I opted to get the work in on each of the 5 hills I’d hit on the two hour loop, recover and enjoy the descents into the Ohio River Valley.    

I was having a blast.  Traffic was light.  I knew anyone on the road was in a tizzy to get to grandma’s house, so I was being extra courteous.  I made a conscious decision not to ride up the gutter at stoplights and instead let all the cars go ahead when it changed.  I waved cars through intersections first, intent on keeping my good groove going.  On the third downhill I got my Thanksgiving bird.

A line of 4-5 cars were coming up as I was going down.  With a few twists on the blind hill, it was a double yellow.  Zip!  A black car darted out of line and hit the gas to pass headed right at me.  My fingers moved to the brakes, but seeing me, he slipped back in line just as quick.  What the hell was he thinking?  It’s a double yellow on a hill! As I passed, his bird caught my eye.  He mashed it up against the driver’s door window for the extra F-U effect.  I returned the gesture, shaking mine to match his fervor and added a smile.  Happy Thanksgiving mother effer.

So today, I give thanks for health, a wonderful wife who understands there's more time to ride if you order a pre-made dinner, blue skies, gardein and gravy, warm November afternoons and the douche bags that make it easy to write a cycling blog. 

A Test of the Emergency #Vegan System

Free for the Taking, an Izzy's Sandwich on Servatii's Roll

This is the vegan equivalent of finding a Brinks truck crashed on the side of the road with $100 bills scattered across the shoulder.  Do you take it and buy a Dura Ace equipped carbon wonder bike from Italy?  Or do you do the right thing, call 9-1-1 and be the hero?  This is a made-in-Cincinnati Izzy’s Reuben Sandwich.  In the world of salted cured meats, nothing trumps the corned beef and sauerkraut piled high, slathered in Million Island dressing and served on Cincinnati’s famous Servatii’s pretzel bread bun.  Simply pulling the meat off would be like "fixing" the smile on the Mona Lisa. 

Did You Say Catnip Tuna?

Maybe I haven’t been clear in my description.  This is two great tastes in one entity.  It’s like Cincinnati Skyline Chili topped with Montgomery Inn Ribs.  Mmmm.  An Izzy’s Reuben on a Servatii’s roll is to Cincinnati as Jerked Chicken on the side of the road served with a Red Stripe beer is to Jamaica.  It’s Saz’s Barbecue with a side of George Webb’s breakfast to a Milwaukeean.  Its Gino’s East pizza covered in Southside Polish sausage to Chicago.  It’s a Thurminator burger topped with a pair of Blue Jacket’s tickets to those in Columbus.  It’s Christmas’ candy cane covered gingerbread house.  Its catnip covered in tuna juice to Juneau… my cat, not the city.

The choice between that bag of money or this sandwich is a life changing decision.  Consultants and advisors from GE and P&G may need to be called in.  Since they’re no longer working on the Space Shuttle program, I may dial-up NASA's best mathematicians to pour over excel spreadsheets and sandwich trajectories to help me decide which would have a better impact on my life. 

Jackpot!

Sure you could take the bag of money and go out and buy an Izzy’s Reuben and have enough left over to quit your job and eat it while riding off the threat of clogged arteries on your new Trek Madone, but you’d be missing the point.  I did hill repeats last night.  I’m 4 pounds below my target race weight.  It’s 9:30am.  I just ate half an apple.  I have an appointment in 30 minutes and I am surrounded by hungry native Cincinnatians.  This is about instant gratification.  This is about taking the kill before the Hyenas get it.  This is a case of how much would it really hurt.  This sandwich is now or never.  Dammit they’re taking it into the work kitchen.  Noooooooo!

My Lunchbox

Right down the hall is a free Izzy’s Reuben Sandwich served on special edition Servatii’s pretzel bread.  In my 2010 Vancouver Olympic lunchbox is a bag of carrots, a tub of hommus, a box of raisins, a banana, a fruit strip, half a Honeycrisp apple, and leftover vegan Tikka Masala in a plastic Glad container.  This is a test of eating a plant based non-processed food diet.  This is a test of the Emergency Vegan System.  This is only a test.

Thankfully, I passed.

#Vegan: The Cheesepocalypse is Neigh!

Sign off I-94 North of Illinois 

There is no cheese in our house, and I’m originally from Wisconsin.  I know.  I’m probably going to hell for that.  The only thing saving me from the eternal deep fryer is a box of Cheese-Its in the cupboard, which is certainly not a whole food and may or may not contain actual dairy products.  I’d have to squint too hard and they’re too damn tasty for me to bother to check the label.  Two weeks ago we began the switch to a plant based whole foods diet.  


We still have a few meat, dairy and processed food items in the kitchen.  However, when the Cheese-Its are gone, the needle on my cheese-o-meter will be at zero and the seven signs of the cheesepocalypse will begin, starting with my name being put on some sort of black list at the Wisconsin border.  Personally I think it’s kind of fun that the only sausage in our house is in a package with a label ending in “furky.”  Furky is funny, as is Tofu.  Still, I attest.  I’m not a Vegan.  I'm not doing this to save the animals, to better the environment, to cleanse or challenge myself.  While those are admirable noble pursuits, when it comes to food I'm a selfish idiot.  This is for me.  

My Lunch: May Be Vegan  

So don’t refer to me as Vegan.  You got that punk?!  However I do like the sound of vegetarian.  It's sort of smart sounding like librarian.  This may come off a bit ethereal, but I can’t live within the walls at 123 Vegan Street.  It really struck me when I washed the egg container from the fridge and stored it away in the pantry for good.  Even with no more eggs in the house, I have no goal to be Vegan, vegan...whatever.  The label sort of annoys me.  


To me, this change in diet is not a final destination.  I’m not quitting meat, dairy and processed food.  I like to see things more positive.  I’m simply trying to eat a plant based and non-processed food diet.  You don't quit smoking.  You put more fresh air in your lungs.  To me, even as a bike crazed dufus, giving up entire groups of foods is like a New Year’s resolution to exercise everyday, a maddening premise destined to disappoint, a recipe to over promise and under deliver.  The way I see it, I equate this change in diet more to yoga.  You’ll never be perfect.  The benefit lies simply in the practice.  While there may come a day when I wish there would be a cheese-patch to deliver a steady stream of melty-gooey goodness into my veins, eating this way is simply a day to day, meal to meal exercise in being healthy. 

Furky...that's funny!

Seriously, I’m not Vegan or vegan, and I'll struggle with the capitalization issue and the fact that the word vegan has the same amount of letters as pagan for the rest of this article.  Regardless, to me, being vegan implies judgment.  I can’t live with that over my head everyday.  For goodness sake I grew up Catholic.  I may not be able to handle guilt, but I can eat a plant based whole food diet and reduce my risk of stroke, heart disease and cancer.  Easy peasy.  It’s not about whether I’ll eat turkey on Thanksgiving, have a meat drawer full of fruits and vegetables, have a homemade Christmas cookie with real butter or whether or not I'll be able to finish that never-ending big 'ol tub-o-mayo in my fridge by 2019.  If the question is can I be Vegan, the answer is: maybe.  If the question is can I give myself a better shot at living a long healthy life, the answer is: certainly.  There are more than 20 stages in the Tour De France.  You don’t need to win them all to take home the yellow jersey.