It's funny what we will do for others, that we won't do for ourselves. What follows is a generalization I suppose, but it is a trend I have observed to be true for decades.

Guys, remember when we were young? Some of us were known to be to less than meticulous about personal appearance. Then a boy meets a girl. Suddenly the truck and motorcycle are cleaner than ever, and you'd think the boy had a make over by the Fab 5.

Of course girls always had it one up on us. Most were never slobs, but sociological evidence points to the fact that women may aspire to look great for all the wrong reasons. You know... that pursuit of the idealized feminine form created by the culturally dominant male that capitalizes on the retrograde fantasies of Hugh Hefner.

Yeah, I hear you. You are wondering what all this stuff has to do with a motorcycle column. Hang with me for a minute.

We age, and if we ever had buff, cut, six pack abs, they are replaced by a six pack of Budweiser. Some of us get pot bellied, our hair line recedes (or disappears), and our love handles could be more aptly describe as circular flotation devices. Women of course have their own issues to deal with.

I guess I realized what a physical mess I was in when I was almost "outlifted" by a petite female in an emergency roadside SOS (see Angels part 2). It was time to take a good look at my middle aged physical form, and what I saw was not a pretty sight. In fact the image was so dismal that I successfully avoided doing anything about my lack of fitness for months.

Inevitably New Year's rolls around. Me and about a zillion other people on the planet get goaded into the fitness resolution thing. Oprah and Dr. Phil never really help, but they do capitalize on guilt by coercing us all to get our assorted lazy duffs out of the Lazy Boy and onto a treadmill. Gee...these people become millionaires as a result of human self-consciousness and shame.

Sure, I've made fitness resolutions before, usually for questionable reasons. We all go into this with questionable motives. Some mid-age folk are dating again after a messy divorce. Some are working to get a new serious relationship. Others are not looking for a relationship, but realize if they want any kind of date the odds get better if you have a hard body.

I should have gotten in better shape years ago. I probably didn't because I lacked an IMproper motivation. Today, I can still take dysfunctional pride in sharing with you the fact that I never lost the 25 pounds that I should have...for any of the right reasons. I wasn't motivated to do it for me, my heart, a longer life, or better health.

But then I would never have done it for anyone else either. Not for a better cuddle quotient in a romantic interlude, not for more sex appeal, not for a date, not for a marriage, not for...well - you get the picture.

But I have decided to loose those 25 pounds, and I am down the first 15 of the 25 right now. Why? Because I have finally discovered a truly dysfunctional motivation.

I am doing this for Harley.

Sure, it's twisted I suppose. But sometime after I bought Harley it occurred to me that I wanted to do more than take it down the street to the local shop and rob store. Harley wasn't for trips to Wal-Mart or the Dairy Queen. My journeys on Harley had become sacrosanct. I knew the ride plans I hoped to purpose for the new spring and summer cycle season needed to have a nobler and more exalted character.

And so like bikers everywhere, we plot, plan, and share what this season's ride expectations might be. We get out our calendars and our favorite event lists and ride destinations.

In the middle of all that, I guess I conjured up an aspiration. No, I didn't steal the idea from Lew Crawford (Are You a Hard Corps Rider?), but it sure seems that biker minds will sometimes think similar thoughts.

My aspiration was twofold. Not to get outlifted by small women, and log major miles on Harley!

From what I've been told by experienced riders, you can't just hop on a full dresser and expect to ride long distances without working up to it. They say that you need to be in reasonably good shape.

Well, I wasn't.

I am not planning to do a cross country coast to coast journey in one fell swoop this year. But I would like to take a series of trips throughout Michigan and the Midwest to a variety of destinations. The goal?

Twelve thousand miles. No, I won't beat myself up if I only make 8k. Let's be real, last year I only got to 1,100!

From the time I take Harley out for the first Spring spin, to the day that I have to hook up the trickle charger for winter... I'd like to have traveled twelve thousand miles in the 2004 ride season.

So instead of grabbing the milk and Twinkies while drooling over the centerfold motorcycle in American Iron magazine - I grabbed the phone. I hooked up with a personal trainer for a quick consultation. We worked out a fitness plan, and I've been sweating ever since.

I have endured the suffering embarrassment of exposing my belly (covered by a t-shirt, but still resembling a bowling ball) amid the skinny bodies at the gym. My washing machine works overtime cleaning my workout apparel. I've bought stock in Tide and Granola.

Through all of this, I have found that most fitness folk stretch the truth. They tell you how much better you'll feel if you work out. What they don't tell you is when you'll feel better or how long that will take. The first two weeks of fitness training about killed me. I imagined my pic on the front page of the Morning Sun. "Biker dies of cardiac arrest on treadmill." No, the photographer wouldn't get my best profile. My belly would be plumply captured in memoriam.

I wouldn't have lasted this long on a fitness gig for me. I would never have lasted this long for a date or even a mate.

Nope... these biker biceps are for Harley. I want to do those 12 thousand miles feeling good about the fact that I can still handle the challenge.

I don't expect to get slammed by an 18 wheeler during the ride season, but trust me. If I die, I'll be in the best shape of my life!

-JR
Posted 03/08/2004

Dr. Joseph Rivard, PhD, is an educator, motorcycle enthusiast, and former competitive handgunner. He has written extensively on topics related to the field of education, and now enjoys writing for pleasure about his newest passion - riding his Harley across the backroads of Michigan.

Joseph was born and raised in Michigan, but feels he is only beginning to appreciate the hidden beauty of the rural areas now that he is seeing it from a two wheel perspective. Joseph lives in Mt. Pleasant and looks forward to meeting new friends and fellow riders as he seeks out the best in 2 lane blacktop across the state. When not riding or working, Dr. Rivard spends much of his personal time with family, which includes his best buddy {who gets around on four paws}.

©Copyright 2006, Joseph Rivard, all rights reserved. No text, graphic, or video found on this site may be archived or redistributed without written consent of the publisher, Lee Wonnacott, Kannapolis, NC. Copyright 2006.