Two years ago, during the summer and fall of 2008, I was in the best form of my life. At 5′ 11″ I was carrying 179 pounds, most of which was muscle, and I was riding upwards of 220 miles a week. I lived in San Francisco, so most of my riding was done on city hills, with bi-weekly excursions over the Golden Gate Bridge for rides upwards of 40 miles. I had just ridden Mt. Diablo for the first time in July and conquered it with no problem, riding my old steel Colnago with a bail-out gear of 39×26. I had started riding in groups for the first time and raced a few informal races; my best result was a 5th placing in my category. I was strong as hell and hungry for more, and I knew the following year would be my year.

Fast forward to February of 2009. I had gained the requisite 6 pounds over a lazy winter, but I was back on the bike and showing flashes of my form from the previous summer. Then I was hit by an inattentive driver while riding my bike home from work. The bike was trashed; I survived with relatively minor injuries and no broken bones, but I lost valuable time. For the next 6 months I was wasted, stressed-out and broke, dealing with the insurance claim and the psychological damage from the accident. By August I had my new road bike together and by September I was riding regularly again, but I was up at 195 pounds, and winter was approaching. I resolved to ride as much as possible over the winter. You know how that goes.

Last November I moved across the bay to Alameda, in order to be closer to my job there. Since I don’t own a car, my commute from SF was upwards of two hours round-trip, so moving to Alameda was the best way to save time and money. Alameda is nice from a cyclist’s perspective, too; the drivers are more careful and courteous than in San Francisco, the bike infrastructure is good, the island is small, which encourages taking trips by bike, and it’s very flat. Unfortunately from a hopeful bike racer’s perspective, flat = boring, so I would have to step it up if I wanted to keep my fitness without the convenience of San Francisco’s ubiquitous hills. Needless to say, that didn’t happen. I noticed I was putting on a little weight, but I didn’t think it was much since it was winter, after all, and I usually gain a little bit, either due to inactivity or because my body thinks I should be hibernating like a bear or something.

In March of this year it was time for my biannual visit to the doctor. Many people go once a year, but I was born with a condition (hypothyroidism) which requires me to take a daily supplement; therefore, I go to the doctor more often, usually twice a year to get my blood tested. Two days later I get a message from my doctor; my TSH value was 26.04. To put things in perspective, a normal value is from 0 to 2; anything higher than that is indicative of an underactive thyroid. Among other things, an underactive thyroid can lead to weight gain, and guess what… I had gained 20 pounds since the fall. I was now sitting at 215, which was an all-time high for me. Doc hypothesized a case of thyroiditis, which could have caused my thyroid to flare up like that; I went back every couple of weeks for the next two months for additional blood tests, which confirmed her hypothesis. Eventually my TSH came back down to normal levels, but the additional weight stuck with me, and I topped out at 218 in April, still an all-time record. This whole time I had been riding regularly and eating right, but through the miracle of hypothyroidism, I still gained weight. It’s something I’ve lived with my entire life, but it can be extraordinarily frustrating at times, especially when trying to regain lost fitness.

This morning I stepped on the scale and it hit 210.4 pounds, so it’s finally coming off. I’ve maintained my “diet” while increasing my riding efforts; in addition to commuting 8 miles round trip daily, I’ve been taking 8-mile lunchtime rides three time a week, and I just added a 10-mile ride after dinner every night. Weekend rides at this point are around 25 miles; those will increase, though I will still probably take one weekend day as a rest day. If I lose a pound a week I’ll be back around 180 by the new year. Here we go, again.

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