Well, after all these months of preparation, training, trials and errors, and falls, (Fred, 4; Me, 1) we are on our way to Washington to start our adventure. It is a bittersweet trip, in more ways than one.
Two days ago, my husband's mother passed away unexpectedly after going into cardiac arrest. Adam and Aislynn headed down to Georgia the same day. I had a work obligation that kept me in Kemmerer at least until today, but have been on standby, waiting to see if I needed to follow my family to Atlanta during this difficult time.
In the end, Adam told me to stay the course (no pun intended) and complete the bike trip. "I'm okay, and you have worked too hard on this not to be able to do it now." Supportive and selfless, and so very appreciated, even more so because I know what he is going through, being just one year out from my own mom's passing.
So we are moving forward, albeit a little more heavy-hearted.
Even as I look back at the bikes hanging off their rack and at the impossible amount of bags, gear, suitcases, food, etc. in the back of the car, it's hard to believe we are here and just 38 hours away from The Ride. And I am not kidding about impossible. I'm honestly not sure how we are going to fit our support driver, Nancy, and her luggage in this car.
I blame Fred. He is an incorrigible over packer. This is a man who is on his way to a 323 mile bike ride and wants to bring all his racquetball gear with him, just in case. What?!?!? (We negotiated. I talked him down to just one racquet, two racquetballs and shoes...)
Anyway, I am looking forward to blogging from the route.... As always, thanks, blog.
Friday, September 13, 2013
Sunday, September 8, 2013
System Failure
My friend, Mark, warned me it would happen.... that at some point I would forget my shoes were clipped onto my pedals and I would fall over on my bike.
I smiled and nodded, indulging him as he explained HOW I should fall to prevent injury, all the while not really believing it would happen. After all, I reasoned, I already had four post-clipless-pedal rides on my bike and had the clipping in and out of the pedals down to a science. I had a system. About twenty feet before any desired stop, I would swing my ankles out, disengage the clips and set my feet lightly on top of the pedals so I could put one foot down on the ground when I came to a stop.
In fact, so adept was I at this system that I was even compensating for a tighter left clip by always disengaging my right foot first and using that foot to ground myself when stopping so I could take my time getting my left foot out of its binding.
Furthermore, it's not like I am riding down steep, uneven hills on a mountain bike, where at any second I might hit a divot or root and lose my balance. This road biking stuff is easy peasy, and I had pretty much convinced myself that I would be the one person in the history of clips who looked back at the experience and said at the Novice Long Distance Cyclist Awards where I won first place honors, "You know, I never did fall in all the time was learning to ride in clips. It's been amazing."
Yep, you guessed it. I fell yesterday, exactly in the way that Mark predicted. And actually, I almost wish I HAD been mountain biking and hit a divot and crashed down. At least that's understandable and makes for a great story of heroism and endurance. In my case, I rode over thirty miles with lots of starts and stops where I had no problem whatsoever working my clips, and then got to my car at the end of the ride (where my friend Bob was waiting to take me back to the house), came to a stop, forgot I was still in the clips, and down, down I went, almost in slow motion, hitting my helmeted head on the car as I went, slumping painfully onto the ground.
Poor Bob saw my fall and heard my helmet hit the car and jumped out, finding me crumpled in a heap on the passenger side. "I'm okay... I'm okay," I assured him, dazed and mad at myself.
In retrospect, I got off fairly easy with some bumps and bruises. I would have been devastated to make it one week from The Ride, only to break an ankle or wrist and be unable to do the trip.
Later, Fred texted me that he had gotten clipless pedals at the bike store earlier that day. He fell four times in his clips.
Aren't we a pair...
Thanks, blog.
I smiled and nodded, indulging him as he explained HOW I should fall to prevent injury, all the while not really believing it would happen. After all, I reasoned, I already had four post-clipless-pedal rides on my bike and had the clipping in and out of the pedals down to a science. I had a system. About twenty feet before any desired stop, I would swing my ankles out, disengage the clips and set my feet lightly on top of the pedals so I could put one foot down on the ground when I came to a stop.
In fact, so adept was I at this system that I was even compensating for a tighter left clip by always disengaging my right foot first and using that foot to ground myself when stopping so I could take my time getting my left foot out of its binding.
Furthermore, it's not like I am riding down steep, uneven hills on a mountain bike, where at any second I might hit a divot or root and lose my balance. This road biking stuff is easy peasy, and I had pretty much convinced myself that I would be the one person in the history of clips who looked back at the experience and said at the Novice Long Distance Cyclist Awards where I won first place honors, "You know, I never did fall in all the time was learning to ride in clips. It's been amazing."
Yep, you guessed it. I fell yesterday, exactly in the way that Mark predicted. And actually, I almost wish I HAD been mountain biking and hit a divot and crashed down. At least that's understandable and makes for a great story of heroism and endurance. In my case, I rode over thirty miles with lots of starts and stops where I had no problem whatsoever working my clips, and then got to my car at the end of the ride (where my friend Bob was waiting to take me back to the house), came to a stop, forgot I was still in the clips, and down, down I went, almost in slow motion, hitting my helmeted head on the car as I went, slumping painfully onto the ground.
Poor Bob saw my fall and heard my helmet hit the car and jumped out, finding me crumpled in a heap on the passenger side. "I'm okay... I'm okay," I assured him, dazed and mad at myself.
In retrospect, I got off fairly easy with some bumps and bruises. I would have been devastated to make it one week from The Ride, only to break an ankle or wrist and be unable to do the trip.
Later, Fred texted me that he had gotten clipless pedals at the bike store earlier that day. He fell four times in his clips.
Aren't we a pair...
Thanks, blog.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Not One Little Bit
The sun did not shine.
It was too wet to play.
So we sat in the house. All that cold, cold, wet day.
I sat there with Sally.
We sat there, we two. And I said, “How I wish we had something to do!”
Too wet to go out, and too cold to play ball. So we sat in the house. We did nothing at all.
So all we could do was to Sit! Sit! Sit! Sit! And we did not like it. Not one little bit.
Okay, I admit that is from Dr. Seuss, The Cat in the Hat. But it pretty accurately describes how I feel. It has been overcast, rainy and windy all day. There was a break in the weather around 5:00, but just as I was leaving work, a delivery guy showed up with a large order. By the time I got home, I could see large amounts of rain falling to the south. "Adam," I asked, "how far away do you think that is?"
Adam looked out toward the mountains and guessed forty miles.
"So do you think if I drive 20 miles out I could..."
"Nope."
We went inside and Aislynn told me all about her first day of school. I looked outside again. "Adam, do you think it's actually moving northwest? Maybe it will go right past us."
"Hmmm..maybe," he said, doubtfully.
Then we heard thunder. And then it started pouring. "Okay, we'll wait five minutes," I told him.
About ten minutes later, I looked out the window again and saw it clear way off to the south. "Let's go," I announced, reasoning that if we drove south toward Evanston, the weather would get better as we went, and I would end up chasing the storm instead of it chasing me. Adam went down to put the bike on the truck while I filled two water bottles and finished clipping my cycling shoes. When I came out into the garage, he looked at me and shook his head.
"I think it's blowing west and north. I think it's okay." Yeah, I know. Even to my own ears I sounded ridiculous and desperate.
Lightening struck. Twice. The wind continued to gust.
Adam stepped outside, into the wind that was blowing directly into his face... From the west.
I knew then that the jig was up. By the time the storm blew over, it would be too late and too dark to ride.
And I didn't like it...not one little bit.
Darn it, blog.
I sat there with Sally.
We sat there, we two. And I said, “How I wish we had something to do!”
Too wet to go out, and too cold to play ball. So we sat in the house. We did nothing at all.
So all we could do was to Sit! Sit! Sit! Sit! And we did not like it. Not one little bit.
Okay, I admit that is from Dr. Seuss, The Cat in the Hat. But it pretty accurately describes how I feel. It has been overcast, rainy and windy all day. There was a break in the weather around 5:00, but just as I was leaving work, a delivery guy showed up with a large order. By the time I got home, I could see large amounts of rain falling to the south. "Adam," I asked, "how far away do you think that is?"
Adam looked out toward the mountains and guessed forty miles.
"So do you think if I drive 20 miles out I could..."
"Nope."
We went inside and Aislynn told me all about her first day of school. I looked outside again. "Adam, do you think it's actually moving northwest? Maybe it will go right past us."
"Hmmm..maybe," he said, doubtfully.
Then we heard thunder. And then it started pouring. "Okay, we'll wait five minutes," I told him.
About ten minutes later, I looked out the window again and saw it clear way off to the south. "Let's go," I announced, reasoning that if we drove south toward Evanston, the weather would get better as we went, and I would end up chasing the storm instead of it chasing me. Adam went down to put the bike on the truck while I filled two water bottles and finished clipping my cycling shoes. When I came out into the garage, he looked at me and shook his head.
"I think it's blowing west and north. I think it's okay." Yeah, I know. Even to my own ears I sounded ridiculous and desperate.
Lightening struck. Twice. The wind continued to gust.
Adam stepped outside, into the wind that was blowing directly into his face... From the west.
I knew then that the jig was up. By the time the storm blew over, it would be too late and too dark to ride.
And I didn't like it...not one little bit.
Darn it, blog.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Two Week Countdown
Two weeks from today, and pretty much this hour, I will be starting the first few miles of my 300+ mile ride. It is so odd how time both speeds up and slows down when something important in our lives gets close.
As I write this, Adam is putting my brand new clipless pedals on my bike, and screwing the corresponding cleats onto my new cycling shoes. Today and tomorrow will be all about learning to get in and out of them without falling over...something I am pretty apprehensive about. But once I get used to them, they should make my pedal strokes more efficient, as I can maximize my muscles' ability to both push down and pull up through each revolution. That will be helpful on those 50-60 mile days.
I can feel this journey shifting from the a physical game to a mental one. All of the sudden, I am running what-if scenarios and trying to anticipate potential plan Bs, making lots of lists, coaching myself through imagined good and bad performance, taking lots and lots of notes, etc. I even try to prepare myself for the fact that I cannot and probably will not be prepared for everything.
Yesterday I had a flashback to that first ride (in my granny sweater) where Adam took me 12 miles outside of town and dropped me off to ride home. Wow. Today, 12 miles is a short, sweet, leisurely ride, and I have now ridden up and down all manner of Wyoming highways. Its amazing.
So here we go...two more weeks of prep and planning and I will be out doing the thing I envisioned 15 months ago in that little bookstore on Bainbridge Island.
Thanks so much, blog. You will be my memory and record of all of it.
As I write this, Adam is putting my brand new clipless pedals on my bike, and screwing the corresponding cleats onto my new cycling shoes. Today and tomorrow will be all about learning to get in and out of them without falling over...something I am pretty apprehensive about. But once I get used to them, they should make my pedal strokes more efficient, as I can maximize my muscles' ability to both push down and pull up through each revolution. That will be helpful on those 50-60 mile days.
I can feel this journey shifting from the a physical game to a mental one. All of the sudden, I am running what-if scenarios and trying to anticipate potential plan Bs, making lots of lists, coaching myself through imagined good and bad performance, taking lots and lots of notes, etc. I even try to prepare myself for the fact that I cannot and probably will not be prepared for everything.
Yesterday I had a flashback to that first ride (in my granny sweater) where Adam took me 12 miles outside of town and dropped me off to ride home. Wow. Today, 12 miles is a short, sweet, leisurely ride, and I have now ridden up and down all manner of Wyoming highways. Its amazing.
So here we go...two more weeks of prep and planning and I will be out doing the thing I envisioned 15 months ago in that little bookstore on Bainbridge Island.
Thanks so much, blog. You will be my memory and record of all of it.
Friday, August 30, 2013
I Don't Give A Rat's @$$
In truth, I care very much...about just about everything in my life, and probably yours. But that little expression is one of my guilty pleasures.
Secretly, I love it. I'm not sure why, since it is pretty far outside of the way I talk. But every single time someone prefaces a statement with that little gem, I feel an uncontrollable giggle start in my diaphragm, up up up until it escapes out my lips, thereby kind of ruining the moment, whatever it is.
I mean, what does that mean anyway? Who came up with that expression? Maybe it's funny simply in its randomness. Why does it have to be a RAT?
I especially love it when my sister Rebecca says it, because she adds in these little descriptive snacks, like, "I don't give a TINY rat's ass..." And when we are on the phone, even in the midst of whatever she's complaining about, I can literally HEAR the corners of her mouth turning upward as she says the words, which shows they amuse her as much as they amuse me.
It's kind of dangerous, though. A friend of mine in Kemmerer got a little religious/political with it, saying, "I don't give a Mormon rat's ass". Thanks -- you know who you are. Now we're all going to Hell.
But the thing is, I can't really adopt it because it just doesn't sound natural when I say it, like I'm trying too hard. Wyoming may have roughened my soft edges a little, but there's a limit to what I can embody without sounding affected.
Maybe if I were to practice.... In my house, in my kitchen, in my office, in my car, well, not at church, but just about everywhere else, so that when I get done with this 323 mile bike ride, I could come home and preface almost every conversation with, "I don't give a rat's ass about ________________________ (fill in the blank)!!!!! I just finished 323 miles on a bike in 6 days. That's right. Not a TINY rat's ass.
Do you think I'm overestimating the satisfaction I'll get from it? You do? Yeah? Well, I don't give a .... nope, still not there for me.
In truth, the ONLY thing coming out of my mouth when I finish will be thank you....God......thank you.....blog........thank you.......loved ones....
(Unless I don't give a.......). Ok, ok...it does lose its funniness if overused.
Nite, blog.
Secretly, I love it. I'm not sure why, since it is pretty far outside of the way I talk. But every single time someone prefaces a statement with that little gem, I feel an uncontrollable giggle start in my diaphragm, up up up until it escapes out my lips, thereby kind of ruining the moment, whatever it is.
I mean, what does that mean anyway? Who came up with that expression? Maybe it's funny simply in its randomness. Why does it have to be a RAT?
I especially love it when my sister Rebecca says it, because she adds in these little descriptive snacks, like, "I don't give a TINY rat's ass..." And when we are on the phone, even in the midst of whatever she's complaining about, I can literally HEAR the corners of her mouth turning upward as she says the words, which shows they amuse her as much as they amuse me.
It's kind of dangerous, though. A friend of mine in Kemmerer got a little religious/political with it, saying, "I don't give a Mormon rat's ass". Thanks -- you know who you are. Now we're all going to Hell.
But the thing is, I can't really adopt it because it just doesn't sound natural when I say it, like I'm trying too hard. Wyoming may have roughened my soft edges a little, but there's a limit to what I can embody without sounding affected.
Maybe if I were to practice.... In my house, in my kitchen, in my office, in my car, well, not at church, but just about everywhere else, so that when I get done with this 323 mile bike ride, I could come home and preface almost every conversation with, "I don't give a rat's ass about ________________________ (fill in the blank)!!!!! I just finished 323 miles on a bike in 6 days. That's right. Not a TINY rat's ass.
Do you think I'm overestimating the satisfaction I'll get from it? You do? Yeah? Well, I don't give a .... nope, still not there for me.
In truth, the ONLY thing coming out of my mouth when I finish will be thank you....God......thank you.....blog........thank you.......loved ones....
(Unless I don't give a.......). Ok, ok...it does lose its funniness if overused.
Nite, blog.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Investment in Life
Gosh, it is getting so close now. Three weeks to go. I find myself shifting from the long-term, general training to trying to work out all the logistics -- what equipment I still need, booking motel rooms, figuring out what to pack, wanting to practice with panniers and gear on the bike, etc. Adam and I are perusing all kinds of internet sites looking for everything from a rain-proof jacket to energy gummy snacks. I've been searching map sites, trying to find some good cycling maps to print out for my handlebar map and phone case (that I also still have to get...)
It's a little overwhelming. To that point, I was driving my friend's daughter, Braelyn, home the other day, and was asking her if she would rather come to the Event Center and work on a craft instead. "No," she said, "I think I am just going to go home." I asked what she was going to do once she got there. "Maybe play with my babies and watch a movie. And I'm going to talk to Miley (their shih tzu) about my feelings, because I have a lot of feelings today!"
I feel ya, Braelyn! I have a lot of feelings, too! I'm excited, nervous, determined, afraid, proud, worried, restless, apprehensive and everything in-between.
But one cool thing, when we take Aislynn down to Salt Lake to do school shopping next week, it will be like school shopping for me, too, but for the School of Long Distance Cycling. Have you ever tried a new sport or activity where you needed to buy new clothes and gear? I always love that feeling of being "official" once I make those purchases... like a Real Athlete. I'm looking forward to that piece.
I was lamenting to my stepmom, Sandy, about the cost of cycling as a hobby. Soooo expensive. She didn't miss a beat. "Sweetheart, you need to look at this as a wonderful investment in you. Look at what you are accomplishing and how you are feeling. This is money toward an active and fulfilling life." Love her. Spot on.
So, for now I will plan, strategize and keep getting on the bike. And get some shopping in, too -- hoorah! One step at a time.
Thanks, blog.
It's a little overwhelming. To that point, I was driving my friend's daughter, Braelyn, home the other day, and was asking her if she would rather come to the Event Center and work on a craft instead. "No," she said, "I think I am just going to go home." I asked what she was going to do once she got there. "Maybe play with my babies and watch a movie. And I'm going to talk to Miley (their shih tzu) about my feelings, because I have a lot of feelings today!"
I feel ya, Braelyn! I have a lot of feelings, too! I'm excited, nervous, determined, afraid, proud, worried, restless, apprehensive and everything in-between.
But one cool thing, when we take Aislynn down to Salt Lake to do school shopping next week, it will be like school shopping for me, too, but for the School of Long Distance Cycling. Have you ever tried a new sport or activity where you needed to buy new clothes and gear? I always love that feeling of being "official" once I make those purchases... like a Real Athlete. I'm looking forward to that piece.
I was lamenting to my stepmom, Sandy, about the cost of cycling as a hobby. Soooo expensive. She didn't miss a beat. "Sweetheart, you need to look at this as a wonderful investment in you. Look at what you are accomplishing and how you are feeling. This is money toward an active and fulfilling life." Love her. Spot on.
So, for now I will plan, strategize and keep getting on the bike. And get some shopping in, too -- hoorah! One step at a time.
Thanks, blog.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Oh Yes I AM!!!!!
I had lunch yesterday with my friend, Mark -- a rare treat these days in between the activities and responsibilities of our professional and private lives. We had "cause"... Mark is an integral help in planning and executing the Kemmerer leg of the International Pedigree Stage Stop Sled Dog Race, and planning is already underway for the 2014 race.
As the city's Cultural Arts and Events Director, I was asked to "bring the sled dog race" back to Kemmerer. Until that time, the only sled dogs I'd seen in my entire life were Mark and Doris' eight rascals, and our entire relationship consists of them putting their noses up my skirt and me squealing, jumping back and pushing them away. That lasts exactly as long as it takes the pack to realize that our little Charly -- our seven-pound Pomapoo-- is with us. Then the rest of the visit is all about the Hunt. (One guess as to who is the "hunted".)
Anyway, suffice to say I was bumbling my way through the race preparations last year until I got Mark's guidance, communication and hard work.
I saw Mark and Doris last night at the City picnic, too. Mark has been extremely supportive of my cycling journey. I told them about explaining to a Councilman with great enthusiasm the bike ride I am doing next month, only to have the Councilman give me a skeptical once over. Down, down, down went his eyes, and then up, up, up they came, followed by an uncomfortably-long pause. "You think I am too chubby to do this.." I said for him.
"Oh no... no.. I mean, I would be too chubby to do it," he said, patting his stomach. Nice save. This man has a body fat percentage of about 10. My friends were laughing as I recounted the awkwardness. Another friend of mine, Natasia, jumped in about my cute little helmet that she sees all over the city as I ride. "You're just sooo safe, with your little helmet and your little gloves...." Uh huh...Wait til she sees the fluorescent orange and green vest my sweet friend Nancy just brought me. Even Adam teased that I am probably a little too worried about being seen by motorists. (Is that another fat joke??)
Anyway, I took it all with good nature because I feel so good about what I have accomplished and where I am now. And my reward was at the end of the lunch when Mark said, "I just can't get over how much better you look now than when you first got here. Not just the weight you've lost, but everything. You look healthier. You sound better. It's everything."
(What's not to love about a friend like that??)
So, okay world, I may look silly in my biking gear, and spandex just may not be my best style... but I...AM....DOING...IT. And you know why?
....because I can.
Thanks, blog.
As the city's Cultural Arts and Events Director, I was asked to "bring the sled dog race" back to Kemmerer. Until that time, the only sled dogs I'd seen in my entire life were Mark and Doris' eight rascals, and our entire relationship consists of them putting their noses up my skirt and me squealing, jumping back and pushing them away. That lasts exactly as long as it takes the pack to realize that our little Charly -- our seven-pound Pomapoo-- is with us. Then the rest of the visit is all about the Hunt. (One guess as to who is the "hunted".)
Anyway, suffice to say I was bumbling my way through the race preparations last year until I got Mark's guidance, communication and hard work.
I saw Mark and Doris last night at the City picnic, too. Mark has been extremely supportive of my cycling journey. I told them about explaining to a Councilman with great enthusiasm the bike ride I am doing next month, only to have the Councilman give me a skeptical once over. Down, down, down went his eyes, and then up, up, up they came, followed by an uncomfortably-long pause. "You think I am too chubby to do this.." I said for him.
"Oh no... no.. I mean, I would be too chubby to do it," he said, patting his stomach. Nice save. This man has a body fat percentage of about 10. My friends were laughing as I recounted the awkwardness. Another friend of mine, Natasia, jumped in about my cute little helmet that she sees all over the city as I ride. "You're just sooo safe, with your little helmet and your little gloves...." Uh huh...Wait til she sees the fluorescent orange and green vest my sweet friend Nancy just brought me. Even Adam teased that I am probably a little too worried about being seen by motorists. (Is that another fat joke??)
Anyway, I took it all with good nature because I feel so good about what I have accomplished and where I am now. And my reward was at the end of the lunch when Mark said, "I just can't get over how much better you look now than when you first got here. Not just the weight you've lost, but everything. You look healthier. You sound better. It's everything."
(What's not to love about a friend like that??)
So, okay world, I may look silly in my biking gear, and spandex just may not be my best style... but I...AM....DOING...IT. And you know why?
....because I can.
Thanks, blog.
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