November 17th, 2010
Five years ago, our
featured BeneVia fan for November, Charlie Synder, was diagnosed with
Type II Diabetes. Since then, he’s ran his first half marathon and marathon and rode his bike in his first metric century (62 miles) and century (100 miles). For Charlie the century was pretty intense, as a 47-year-old diabetic riding 100 miles on an 18-year-old mountain bike in 94-degree heat. These events were also very satisfying for him because he was raising money for the American Diabetes Association.
“As a
Boomer-in-Training and a diabetic, it’s important for me to live a healthy lifestyle and eat nutritious foods to help me achieve my goals. That’s where the delicious
BeneVia drinks come in,” explained Charlie. Next up for him? “… I’ve signed up as the Chair of the Southern Colorado Tour de Cure diabetes fund-raising ride, which is next May.”
For more information
visit Charlie’s Tour de Cure page to learn more. Good luck Charlie!
Interested in becoming a featured fan of BeneVia for December? Leave a comment below and let us know how to contact you and a member of the BeneVia team will be in contact with you.
Tags: baby boomers, benevia, charlie snyder, nutrition, type 2 diabetes, type II diabetes
Posted in BeneVia Nutrition Drinks, Boomer In Training, Featured BeneVia Fan | No Comments »
September 17th, 2010
Crazy from the Heat
The team at BeneVia presents a new series that will follow Charlie Snyder as he trains for the Tour de Cure. By incorporating BeneVia Nutrition Drinks into his training program, this “Boomer in Training” is determined to complete his Tour de Cure that benefits the American Diabetes Association.
By Charlie Snyder
I stopped next to this woman I’ve befriended on the ride at the ‘wall in the road’ at the halfway mark of my first century, riding 100 miles in 94-degree heat on my 18-year-old mountain bike.
Six weeks earlier she biked from Longmont to Fargo, riding 100 miles a day for nine days. We look up at the road ahead and it appears to go straight up. There is a guy – I don’t know who he is or why he is there – but he is just laughing his ass off at all of us. He has a car.
As with most big hills, once you get on the hill you noticed little undulations. I think to myself, “
Just take it one segment at a time. Try to find little flat spots to rest.”
Positive Thinking Sort Of Worked
That attempt at positive thinking sort of worked. I made it to the top of that first bit. Although the last few pedals felt like I was sitting in the weight room at the Y pushing a ton of plates up on the leg press. As I approach the first switchback, the girl in the blue jersey has gotten off her bike to walk … the woman who did nine centuries in nine days. I’m a very logical person and as soon as I saw that I thought, “That makes total sense.” I got off my bike and walked the infamous four switchbacks. I ended up walking faster than most of the cyclists still on their bikes.
On the last stretch of up, I looked skyward and saw my wife, Rosemary, and heard her cheering me on.
At last on top of the highest part of the course, I handed Rose my bike. Riders are sprawled all over the dirt at this lookout spot with Rocky Mountain National Park in the background.
Mountain bikes are not built for 23-mile descents on highways with cars and shadows and gravel, tight turns, potholes and guardrails. Your position on the bike is more upright than on a road bike and, as a result, the muscles behind my neck (the trapezoids) and my hands were killing me.
But at least that part went by fast!
Writing my Facebook Status in my Mind
Plus, I knew I was done with the hard climbing, so I was happy and was already writing my Facebook status in my mind.
When I got to the next aid station, I got off the bike, sat down on the only aid station chair I saw that day, and ate a plum. I looked at a map and it said I had 33 miles to go. I knew that I was in for a tough go of it. I filled up my water bottles. I wasn’t replacing the sodium and potassium at a great enough pace and that was a problem.
I was a 47-year-old rookie, but I still should have known better. In my defense, as a diabetic, I’m pretty much dehydrated all of the time and it was 94 degrees!
Hydration and Nutrition Can’t Be Stressed Enough
On an endurance adventure on the road in the heat, hydration and nutrition can’t be stressed enough. For boomers aiming to stay active and live a healthy lifestyle the same adage applies. The ‘therapeutic nutrition’ provided by the BeneVia sports drinks help boomers in the four areas: immune protection, heart health, strength & energy and memory & focus.
During my training for the 2010 Tour de Cure, my first bike ride of 100 miles, I drank BeneVia sports drinks for heart health and strength. I enjoyed the flavors, the research behind product and the way the drinks target certain health conditions. I’m just a boomer in training, but the folks at BeneVia have the plan to help you and I live a healthy, active life for years to come.
The last 25 miles of the ride provided no shelter or shade from the heat. It was not easy, but nothing worthwhile is. I crossed the finished line on my bike a little worse for wear, a little dehydrated, but happy.
A few years ago I was happy to stay in my comfort zone. Today I’m happiest setting a goal, planning, preparing and following through. It is scary to leave your comfort zone, but the joy and the sense of accomplishment in reaching your goal is worth all the blood, sweat and tears.
I’m ready for what is next. I hope you are too.
To give to my Tour de Cure fundraising goal, click here.
Tags: baby boomers, boomer in training, diabetes, tour de cure, type 2 diabetes, type II diabetes
Posted in BeneVia Nutrition Drinks, Boomer In Training | No Comments »
August 25th, 2010
Riding for the Tour de Cure
The team at BeneVia presents a new series that will follow Charlie Snyder as he trains for the Tour de Cure. By incorporating BeneVia Nutrition Drinks into his training program, this “Boomer in Training” is determined to complete his Tour de Cure that benefits the American Diabetes Association.
By Charlie Snyder
I woke up at 5:56 a.m.
“Rose get up, I’m going to be late,” I yell to my wife. We’ve both overslept. I’ve got to get dressed and get to the start line.
The ride is scheduled to begin at 6 a.m. I need to eat breakfast.
“Where are my shorts?” I yell.
Rose is laughing.
“Why the hell is the dog in here?”
I’m under the dining room table.
“Hey, I’ve been looking for that belt.”
I wake up in the hotel. My head is sweating due to the polyester pillow. The hotel thought it was a good idea to supply a giant, heat-inducing pillow-style comforter … no sheets. A comforter makes perfect sense in the middle of August.
Not a good night sleep. That wasn’t expected. I get up at 4:30 a.m. Eat a sensible breakfast, got to put some fuel in the tank for the big day. I’m a 47-year-old diabetic about to ride 100 miles in the Colorado Rocky Mountains on an 18-year-old mountain bike.
Cut to the starting line … I’m chatting with my fellow Tour de Cure riders. I’m encountering some skepticism. One of the riders asks me if I’m going to ride the century. I’m thinking, “No, I’m just out here before the sun rises to cheer you guys on.” Another guy sort of gives me the once over. He looks down at what I can only assume are my calves. I wondering if this is typical cycling etiquette. I’m slightly uncomfortable. I flex my calf, as if to say, “Hey, cycling stranger, I belong here, look at how my calf nicely separates into sexy sections of perfectly proportioned muscles. If you look even closer, I have this vein that pops straight out of my achilles heel.”
That was weird.
But before I knew it we were underway. I have to tell you that the first 50 miles were a breeze. Simply beautiful. Actually, I tried my best to not to expend any energy the first 25 miles. I tried to keep the bike in a gear where I barely even had to try to pedal, all while pushing forward in a pleasing speed.
Somebody said to me, “Hey, 100 miles on a mountain bike … dude.” He gives me thumbs up. Another guy says, “I’m going to be wanting all those gears when we get to the switchbacks.”
At the end of the first 25 miles, we head up to the reservoir, Carter Lake. Last year, this was the section that scared me. This year, not a problem, I rolled up that hill and around the lake, then down the giant descent with the sign of the runaway truck indicating a severe downhill grade.
Instead of turning right for the 62-mile course like last year, we Centurians turned left. I noted the mileage. We were at the 27-mile mark. I noted the time. We were two hours into the ride. That’s when the 23-mile ascent began, 3,000-feet of elevation gain. We rode into the Big Thompson Canyon with Big Thompson River winding left and right and up alongside the road. It was just beautiful. The incline wasn’t that bad. I was enjoying myself, keeping up with the group and feeling strong.
It really was eye-popping scenery, but in the back of my mind I was riding cautiously concerned with what was coming up soon on the course, a “killer hill,” a real “lung buster.” Something someone called “a wall in the road.”
I stopped at both aid stations as we headed towards Glen Haven and “the switchbacks.” I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I had planned to eat that sandwich in Estes Park, but this ascent was longer than I expected. We were three-and-a-half hours into the ride. I asked around for advice from the veterans. “Any advice for this next bit?”
“Just don’t try to go too fast. We still have a lot of road to ride.”
No chance of that, I thought, I’m just going to go slow.
I fill up my water bottles and say to the volunteer, “Well, I don’t think I can stretch this rest stop any longer, I better get going.”
I get back on the road and head up a hill. I see a sign for an upcoming photo station, but one of my fellow riders is pedaling right next to me. I decide that it’s very important for me to pass this person — create some space between riders — so my photo is a photo just of me. Mission accomplished. I smile for the photographer.
It would be the last time I would smile during the 2010 Tour de Cure.
I turn the corner and see several riders stopped in their tracks at the side of the Devil’s Gulch Road.
They are standing there gawking at a giant wall in the road.
To be continued.
If you want to try one of the four great Benevia drinks, now is the time. Whether you are just thinking about an active, healthy lifestyle or are already committed, try
Benevia. With each four-pack sold,
Benevia is donating $1 to my Tour de Cure fund-raising efforts to benefit the
American Diabetes Association.
Tags: boomer in training, tour de cure, type 2 diabetes, type II diabetes
Posted in Boomer In Training | No Comments »
August 25th, 2010
It’s Not About the Bike
The team at BeneVia presents a new series that will follow Charlie Snyder as he trains for the Tour de Cure. By incorporating BeneVia Nutrition Drinks into his training program, this “Boomer in Training” is determined to complete his Tour de Cure that benefits the American Diabetes Association.
By Charlie Snyder
The hay is in the barn. I’ve ridden my bike 1,400 miles in the last 20 weeks. Now I’ve just got a few days to wait for my first century.
I’m a 47-year-old diabetic riding an 18-year-old mountain bike 100 miles in and around Estes Park and the Rocky Mountain National Park for the 2010 Tour de Cure, a fundraiser for the American Diabetes Association.
One of my big challenges for the ride is the start time: 6 a.m. This Saturday I woke up at 4:50 a.m., got my gear and drinks ready and was in my car backing out of the driveway in no time flat. Something or someone told my sub-conscience to check my bike’s tires. I reached back and discovered that my rear tire was completely flat.
I was presented with two reasonable options: change the flat with a new tube or find the leak in the tube and patch it. I choose option number three: fill up the tire and hope for the best.
I rode 80 miles with minimal issues. The tire held up fine. Perfect day.
I’m not the first to use the phrase, “the hay is in the barn.” Runners and cyclists say it indicate that the heavy training before a big event is completed and the rest and tapering can begin. But, of course, the hay and the barn references remind me of my father who grew up on a farm and literally put the hay into the barn … several stacks high as a teenager. Whenever I think that I’m experiencing some sort of hardship, I think of my father and it sets me straight. He worked hard his whole life, lived through the Great Depression, the Dust Bowl, and World War II. For 10 years, he held down two jobs supporting a family that grew to seven kids.
He has diabetes too, living in a nursing home in Minnesota, 92-year-old.
Me, my greatest hardship right now? I have to ride an old bike a long way over some hills.
Last Sunday, I brought my bike in for a pre-ride tune-up and a new tube at the ol’ bike shop and ran into a couple of guys who didn’t have the greatest bedside manner. I told them that I was riding my bike in my first century in six days.
They told me that my chain and everything that it touches is ‘blown out,’ my brake pads need replacing and something involving my front tire is ‘rotted.’
If my bike were a horse, they would have recommended ‘putting her down.’
That did a lot for my confidence. I told them to fix the flat.
And I told myself, that the greatest cyclist of all-time wrote a book and that book was called, “It’s Not About the Bike.”
Incorporating the Right Nutrition Drink Into My Diet, BeneVia
Both my mom and dad have had issues with their heart healthy. My doctor, who is taking care of my diabetes, is very cognizant of keeping my heart strong. One way that I supplement her care is by drinking BeneVia’s nutritional drink for heart health (it’s also good for diabetes). All the BeneVia drinks are fruit-based, which taste great. The Heart Health drink has pineapples and lulo, a fruit that is from the tropics of Columbia.
If you want to try one of the four great Benevia drinks, now is the time. Whether you are just thinking about an active, healthy lifestyle or are already committed, try
Benevia. With each four-pack sold,
Benevia is donating $1 to my Tour de Cure fund-raising efforts to benefit the
American Diabetes Association.
The Tour de Cure is a fundraiser for the American Diabetes Association; I’m a diabetic.
I need just a few more dollars to reach my fundraising goal.
Give here.
Tags: baby boomers, boomer in training, tour de cure, type 2 diabetes, type II diabetes
Posted in Boomer In Training | No Comments »
August 18th, 2010
The team at BeneVia presents a new series that will follow Charlie Snyder as he trains for the Tour de Cure. By incorporating BeneVia Nutrition Drinks into his training program, this “Boomer in Training” is determined to complete his Tour de Cure that benefits the American Diabetes Association. Since introducing Charlie last week, we’d thought we’d give Charlie the opportunity to tell you how he got to where he is today.
By Charlie Snyder
A Series of Unfortunate Events
For the first 40 years of my life, my number one goal was to be comfortable.
But life has a funny way of knocking you out of your comfort zone, if you’re not willing to go, you know, um, willingly.
In 2000, I quit my longtime job to work at a start-up dot.com, which promptly went out of business in a few short months; I got my last check on Dec. 27. I was out of work for 10 months.
In 2001, my mom and sister both died just four months a part.
In 2003, I turned 40 and decided, out of the blue, to buy my first pair of running shoes. I wasn’t in good ‘racing’ shape. I was just pleased that the salesman didn’t smirk when I said I wanted to do a triathlon. I took those magic running shoes down to the trail. I ran 30 seconds, and then walked 90 seconds; I had to teach myself how to run all over again.
A Midlife Crisis of a Healthy Kind
You can call it a midlife crisis if you want to, but the timing just fit. My job was settled, the kids were all out of diapers. I suddenly had a little more time to think about what I wanted to accomplish. I wanted to get in shape; I wanted to be healthy.
That first triathlon was pretty funny. I just started to learn how to run. I hadn’t biked in forever and I wasn’t all that good at swimming. I was a triple threat. I couldn’t find my bike gloves so I used some weight lifting gloves (which were never used once for weight lifting). I couldn’t find my bike helmet until I looked in my four-year-olds toy chest; the helmet had all of the padding ripped out … unwearable. I borrowed a helmet. I remember trying to get a drink from my water bottle during the ride. When I started drinking, I was in a pack of riders, but by the time I figured out how to get that bottle back in its holder, I was on a deserted street. You could hear crickets.
I did a couple triathlons, climbed a couple fourteeners. I hiked one mountain for my mom, one for my sister Joyce. Checking a couple goals off the list, I was getting in shape little by little.
In 2005, I told my doctor that I wanted her to give me a clean bill of health. My brother Jon was living with a donated kidney from a stranger. Years earlier, my doctor had told me that I was exhibiting similar symptoms as Jon and I couldn’t give him my kidney. I thought that since I was getting in better shape, maybe I could help him out some day in the future.
At the very same time, unbeknownst to me, Jon’s body was rejecting his kidney.
My hemoglobin A1C test results came back high. Real high. I went to Jon’s funeral, came back and was it was confirmed: I had Type II Diabetes.
Being Diagnosed with Type II Diabetes
I’ll never forget that day.
USA Today had a front-page story with the headline, “Type II Diabetes linked to Alzheimer’s” … in the story, it said, “the disease Americans fear worse than death.” Nice.
One of my daughter Gina’s classmates told her that I would die in three years. “My dad’s a doctor,” he told her. I think about how ill advised comment made Gina feel. Every daughter deserves to feel that her father is invincible, even for a few brief moments.
In 2006, I ran the Denver Half-Marathon for my brother Jon. I finished elated. So much joy. I ran the 2007 Denver Marathon for my dad. (He’s 92 and hanging tough in Minnesota.) It rained the entire race; the temperatures dipped into the 30s with wind chill. What an emotional day!
Last year I got on my bike. In six weeks I trained for the 100K course at the Tour de Cure, a diabetes fundraiser, in Longmont, Colo. I loved it. I loved it so much I decided to train and ride the 100-mile course at this year’s Tour de Cure.
I was asked to chronicle my adventure for the BeneVia website. Now that the super-happy introduction is out of the way future blogs will cover my training, the importance of nutrition, and things I’ve learned along the way. For example, I’ve learned that anyone can be fit and healthy. Anyone can run a marathon or bike ride all day. You just have to make the decision to live a healthy lifestyle, focus real hard and take that first step.
About Charlie
Charlie Snyder, a 47-year-old living in Colorado, is not quite a boomer, but he does have handsome touch of grey hair near his temples and on his chin. He is a boomer-in-training. He drinks BeneVia to maintain a healthy, active lifestyle. The drinks are low in calories, sugar and carbohydrates, something that is important for a Type II Diabetic; and are filled with protein and amino acids, which important to someone riding 100 miles in one day on purpose. Visit snyderemarks.com.
Tags: charlie snyder, cycling, diabetes, diagnosed with diabetes, tour de cure, trialthons, type 2 diabetes, type II diabetes
Posted in Boomer In Training | No Comments »
August 13th, 2010
Training for the Tour de Cure
The team at BeneVia presents a new series that will follow Charlie Snyder as he trains for the Tour de Cure. By incorporating BeneVia Nutrition Drinks into his training program, this “Boomer in Training” is determined to complete his Tour de Cure that benefits the American Diabetes Association.
By Charlie Snyder
Sometimes you have to prove to yourself how committed you are to the goal.
My most extreme example would have to be the ice bath. I was running down Barr Trail, the trail that goes all the way up to Pikes Peak, and for the inexperienced hiker it can be a jarring experience. I remember thinking, “I’m going to need to ice my knees, IT bands, thighs, hips … everything.” That’s when the ice bath idea was born. I called my oldest daughter and instructed her to fill the bath with five inches of water, using only cold water. Then I told her to fill up our popcorn bowl with ice and dump that in there.
By the time I got home that water was frigid. I put on every swimsuit I own and made that fateful first step of commitment into the tub. The second fateful step of dedication was sitting down. As my rump headed towards the tub, I thought briefly about the possibility of my heart stopping at the shock of the water. But I was committed, so I sat down and lived to tell the tale. (
It was cold.)
Testing My Commitment
Recently I had another test of my commitment. In Colorado, we get a lot of rain in the late afternoon and early evening this time of year. But I’ve got my first century bike ride coming up here soon, and I had to get my ride in. The clouds were ominous. I decided that I would right through any rain. Sure enough, 10 minutes in, the rain came.
Funny thing about riding in the rain, you get hit from all angles and the rain falling from the sky is the least of it. Water sprays from your front wheel directly into your face. Water from the rear tire is deposited directly on your back and rear. And any puddle of any depth drenches your shoes. But I was committed. When I got to my turnaround point – some 12 miles east of my house – I could take in the entire Rocky Mountain range (or at least a large part of it). Right smack dab in the middle was a monster storm cloud firing off one lightening bolt after another. This cloud was traveling towards me and directly above the route I had to take home. Yikes!
I still felt dedicated to the goal, but the new goal was to make it home alive.
Sage Advice from Sage Bikers
I could have used the advice of a veteran boomer biker that day. I always try to strike up a conversation whenever I run into those guys. They’ve been there and done that. On one ride I was lucky enough to bike along side a man in his 60s, who was riding 62 miles that day; I was going 42. We go to talking. He had just finished doing a tough mountain race, but back out training. He said that he was getting ready to ride on the Pacific Coast Highway.
“
Oh really, how far is the ride?” I asked.
“
1,900 miles,” he said. “
It goes from Vancouver to Los Angeles.”
I’m thinking, yeah, I know that. “
But how far are you going?”
“
I’m doing the whole thing,” he replied. “
70 miles a day for 28 days.”
That dude was committed, so I looked for that sage advice. I asked him about what he eats and drinks. He tells me that one bottle of water gets him through 60 mmiles of riding. He didn’t need a CamelPak, he was a camel, apparently.
Incorporating the Right Nutrition Drink Into My Diet, BeneVia
I enjoyed chatting with him and wished him the best of luck, but that boomer was bucking a couple generations worth of research on replacement fluid and recovery drinks. I know that as a diabetic I need to follow a nutritional plan and really watch what I eat and drink to finish my rides up right. The folks at Benevia call it “therapeutic nutrition.” High in protein and amino acids and low in sugar, calories and carbs.
If you want to try one of the four great Benevia drinks, now is the time. Whether you are just thinking about an active, healthy lifestyle or are already committed, try
Benevia. With each four-pack sold,
Benevia is donating $1 to my Tour de Cure fund-raising efforts to benefit the
American Diabetes Association.
Tags: baby boomers, boomer in training, boomers, diabetes, tour de cure
Posted in Aging Dangerously, BeneVia Nutrition Drinks, Boomer In Training | No Comments »
That attempt at positive thinking sort of worked. I made it to the top of that first bit. Although the last few pedals felt like I was sitting in the weight room at the Y pushing a ton of plates up on the leg press. As I approach the first switchback, the girl in the blue jersey has gotten off her bike to walk … the woman who did nine centuries in nine days. I’m a very logical person and as soon as I saw that I thought, “That makes total sense.” I got off my bike and walked the infamous four switchbacks. I ended up walking faster than most of the cyclists still on their bikes.
On the last stretch of up, I looked skyward and saw my wife, Rosemary, and heard her cheering me on.
At last on top of the highest part of the course, I handed Rose my bike. Riders are sprawled all over the dirt at this lookout spot with Rocky Mountain National Park in the background.
Mountain bikes are not built for 23-mile descents on highways with cars and shadows and gravel, tight turns, potholes and guardrails. Your position on the bike is more upright than on a road bike and, as a result, the muscles behind my neck (the trapezoids) and my hands were killing me.
But at least that part went by fast!
For the first 40 years of my life, my number one goal was to be comfortable.
But life has a funny way of knocking you out of your comfort zone, if you’re not willing to go, you know, um, willingly.
In 2000, I quit my longtime job to work at a start-up dot.com, which promptly went out of business in a few short months; I got my last check on Dec. 27. I was out of work for 10 months.
In 2001, my mom and sister both died just four months a part.
In 2003, I turned 40 and decided, out of the blue, to buy my first pair of running shoes. I wasn’t in good ‘racing’ shape. I was just pleased that the salesman didn’t smirk when I said I wanted to do a triathlon. I took those magic running shoes down to the trail. I ran 30 seconds, and then walked 90 seconds; I had to teach myself how to run all over again.
By the time I got home that water was frigid. I put on every swimsuit I own and made that fateful first step of commitment into the tub. The second fateful step of dedication was sitting down. As my rump headed towards the tub, I thought briefly about the possibility of my heart stopping at the shock of the water. But I was committed, so I sat down and lived to tell the tale. (It was cold.)
