The Tent.

I know most of the readers of my blog sit at home continually refreshing the page, ignoring thirst, hunger pangs, and various other bodily functions that I won't describe in detail (this is a family blog). You all had read this post, barely remembering to breathe while you anticipated the follow-up. Well, your wishes can come true (and soon you'll be able to take a bathroom break).

After my cycling aptitude had been tested four or five times, I was sent home with an altitude-simulating tent, meant to be installed on my bed. This is the kind of stuff that national-level athletes use, so I was happy to have the chance to try it out and see how it worked.


Somewhere, a US Olympian is getting weaker.

I was a little amused that I was going to be using an altitude tent that an Olympic swimmer had been (and by all rights still should have been) using. But hey, life isn't fair. Or at least it isn't for Olympic hopefuls. For me, things were coming up roses.



Oxygen De-generator.

The basis of the tent - this device takes the oxygen out of the air, simulating altitude. Your body compensates by producing more red blood cells. Basically, you're starving your body of Oxygen while you sleep so that it will more efficiently absorb it while you're working hard.




Camping in my bedroom.

It was a bit of a tough fit to put the matress in the tent. I had to repair a broken tent pole (it was like that when I got it) and managed to break another tent pole (so I started to get pretty good at repairing broken altitude tents, which I'm sure is a marketable skill). After about an hour of wrestling the matress and the tent, I had everything assembled.

Sleeping in the tent? Actually, I slept quite well. The lack of Oxygen made me go unconcious right quick, thank you very much. The second night in the tent, I started bringing in various devices to make my life easier - a flashlight so I could read the pseudo-altimeter, a couple of books, a bottle of water, and on and on... I definitely wouldn't mind sleeping in the tent every night (they make ones that are a little larger, and which are easier to get in and out of), except that this one cost in the neighborhood of $6000.

Too rich for my blood.

And the results? Was I suddenly catapulted from an also-ran into a National Contender?

Tune in next week to find out!

Just remember to breathe while you're waiting.