What an amazing weekend for riding! Both Saturday & Sunday were warm, clear and sunny with mild winds. I'd created a loose training schedule to keep pace until the big event and the weekend welcomed me with, "You wanna ride 70 miles for the first time? Well, here's how I'll help.... I'll create a perfect day for training!"
Although I only rode 101.2 miles over the course of the weekend, in many ways it felt like I was experiencing two actual days on AIDS/LifeCycle. My total mileage isn't quite as high as two consecutive days would be (the highest will be 191.7... the lowest will be 126.3) and I did both days solo, which isn't like the ride at all. But my experience was full of lessons and reminders of what that week will be like for me and for the other 2,500 cyclists.
Both days, early to bed early to rise was my motto. This isn't a stretch for me. Y'all know I'm up before the sun everyday. And the early to bed part... well, let's just say after riding seventy miles on Saturday, that wasn't an issue at all.
Each morning, I had one goal: Complete all tasks to be ready to ride. Those tasks are fairly simple... and not much different than getting ready for a day of work. But instead of packing your laptop and the notes you took from reviewing the previous days work, you're filling water bottles and choosing snacks for the day. Instead of slipping into a pressed shirt and creased slacks, you're squeezing into skin-tight spandex and lycra. And there are no car keys to look for... but there are two tires to air up. Of course, there's breakfast and showering, which isn't much different than any other day in my life. I did have one luxury I won't have on the ride. I woke up in a bed. My bed. Soft, comfy, warm. During the event? Yeah, that's only gonna be a dream.
Saturday
It's early. 5:15 a.m. to be exact. A little earlier than usual for me but Daylight Savings Time gave me a bit of an edge. And since the route opens at 6:30 a.m. during ALC, being an early bird gives me more of an advantage. Hopefully, I'll be one of the first on the road, having beat the crowd to breakfast, port-a-potties and bike parking. Plus I may get some great sunrise pics for y'all!
I go through my routine mentioned above... preparing to ride. Another notable difference from the actual event is this day I will be driving across town to ride River Mountain Loop Trail instead of just hopping on my bike and riding. I pack everything into the car, pull onto the road, stop at a convenience store to buy a gallon of water, then realize I left my water bottles and protein shakes in the fridge. Argh!
Back to the house.
Grab my hydration and fuel, back on the road, then two blocks away realize I forgot my gloves. Double argh!
Back to the house.
Ok. I guess I'm not a true cyclist yet. There are so many little things to remember. Air the tires. Safety check the bike. Tighten loose bolts. Pack Clif bars and energy shots. For a long ride, bring a lunch. Sunglasses. Helmet. Skullcap. ID. Insurance card. Cash. Debit card. Cell phone. External charger. And. Of Course. Water bottles and gloves. I have 10 weeks to get it right. Maybe I should print out a prep list to review each day before the ride?
When I get to Railroad Pass Casino and park the car, the first thing I do is head to the... head. Hit the restroom for a pee. I know the first restroom on the trail is only four miles down but I've been in the car for 40 minutes, drinking water to pre-hydrate. Better to be safe, eh? When I return to my car, things speed up. Ready to ride. Pull the bike out, cage water bottles, glove up, shoe up, lock up, throw the keys in my saddle bag and I'm off.
But the sun was rising fast which brought the temps right up with it. Was grateful for any downhill where the speed would pull a light breeze across my face. By the time I rounded Lake Mead, I realized Boulder City is actually hotter than Vegas. I didn't know that was possible. But on this day it was. And the climb up from Lake Mead to Boulder City is just that... a climb. Sun right on me. No wind at all. But beautiful scenery... even when riding through the flood channels. And still maintaining a minimum of 12 mph. I'm getting stronger in the saddle. There's no doubt about that.
Next lesson. Lunch. Don't take thirty minutes. Period. Way too much time for your legs to cool down. And when you get back on the route, it's going to feel like you're starting over again.And another lesson. No matter how many rest stops you hit.... you'll have to pee in some bush somewhere. Good luck finding a bush in the desert.
 |
| River Mountain Loop Trail - twice! My longest ride to date... just shy of 70 miles! |
And another lesson... this one much more important. Anytime something feels "wrong" on your bike, chances are good that something is wrong. About mile 41, I stopped for an energy shot (hello, Three Sisters.... you got me last time but this time I'm gonna conquer you! Twice!). When I stopped, there was a moment my bike began to topple over and I grabbed it by the rear wheel to keep it from falling. When I hopped back on, there were no sounds and no obvious issues, but it just felt like I had to pedal harder. I figured it was simply because I was closing in on 50 miles. It wasn't until I got home that I realized, although part of it was probably due to fatigue, there was a bigger issue. I checked my ride after I got home and saw that, when I stopped it from falling, I must have grabbed right at the rear brake. And the last 30 miles were spent riding with a brake pad rubbing the wheel. I checked my ride results and, low and behold, my speed decreased dramatically from that point on. And there was no other signal except it just. seemed. harder. to. pedal. Lesson learned.
In the end, I completed 69.69 miles in 5 hrs. 41 mins 45 seconds. At an average speed of 12.2 mph. And the computer says I burned 3,270 calories. Seriously. There was a lot of eating after I was done! After nearly six hours with nothing but trail mix, Clif bars, energy shots, a protein shake, and a cheese sandwich, my body was screaming for calories! But the ride was awesome. My longest ride to date. I didn't walk up a single hill. I dealt with the sun beating down on me. And the temps, when I got back in the car, were at 88 degrees.
When I returned home, I found proof of another little thing I've heard about the ride. Tan lines. Seriously. Funky. Tan lines. It was sunny and almost ninety that day. And this... well, this is what my legs looked like. Imagine these below a pasty white torso and extremely dark arms and face and, well, you've got a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream staring right at you.
So that was Saturday. Nearly six hours in the saddle. Total with breaks was closer to seven hours. And I promised myself I would get up the next day and do it again. Just like I'd have to do during the event.
And I did. Sore legs and all.
Sunday
This day I learned my biggest challenge. I have to get up and do it again. Seriously. I'm going to have to do it again seven days in a row. What the heck?!?! I've learned in ALC training that they often call these second days "recovery days." Stretch out the muscles. Become accustomed to getting back in the saddle. But ride it out slow and easy. After thinking about it, I've realized that's like a marathoner waking up the next morning and running again. I mean, I have the utmost respect for runners... especially marathoners. I'm not a runner but I think the impact on their body is a little greater than we cyclists experience. But still. The average marathon time is four and a half hours. And I just cycled more than five and a half hours the day prior and have to do it again? So. Not. Fair.
But, it's what I signed up for. And so many of you have supported me on this journey in so many ways. And there's no way I was gonna let you down.
So, there I go. Same routine. With a few modifications. Lessons were learned so I slathered on extra sunblock this morning. Remembered both my water bottles and my gloves. Got geared up and ready in less time than the day before. And, fortunately, rode out from my house instead of having to drive somewhere to ride.
Because I didn't need to drive to my starting point, I was on the road a little earlier which also allowed me to avoid the hottest part of the day and the blazing desert sun. Whew.
But the day wasn't going to let me by without a reminder of why I was participating in AIDS/LifeCycle. No... this was just another reminder that this weekend was really like two days on the event. I mean, yeah, there are hills that I can only climb by thinking of those I've lost. Or of those who've survived. There are moments of fatigue that I think of everyone supporting me on this journey. But this was different. This was an experience very similar to what I'll feel when I'm joined by this huge community fighting for one cause. Moments that I think of the stories we'll share with each other. Or the candlelight vigils we'll have. You see, early on in my ride... maybe five or six miles out... this song came up on my iPod. I have hundreds (thousands?) of songs on my iPod and in all the years I've put it on shuffle, I don't ever remember this song coming up. Maybe it has and I just skipped past it. Or maybe it came up at a time that wasn't significant. But after riding seventy miles the day before. Being very worn down. Feeling like I would rather be spending my Sunday with my pups, lounging on the sofa, watching bad television, and doing nothing... well, it reminded me of why I wasn't doing any of that. Listen to it. And you'll understand another reason I ride.... because, as Patti Smith reminds us, it's been eloquently stated, "The departed live on in the memory of the living."
In my life, I've had many... many... little emerald birds depart. And as this folk song whispered into my ears... and as I trudged up that ascent today... tears began to stream down my face. So grateful for very dark sunglasses, as other riders passed by me and I just nodded back to their hellos. I was on my bike. Crying. Reminded of the pain I've felt these past two decades from this awful pandemic. Doing things for friends I never imagined I'd do. Cleaning their homes. Changing their diapers. Giving them injections. Shaving their faces. Staying up with them all night as their morphine-induced hallucinations took hold. Climbing into their beds with them, while their bodies were still warm, but after they'd taken their last breath. Handing their Wills to their family members. Fostering their dogs during their illness. Kissing them goodbye. The first, in 1992 when I was only 21. The most recent, just this past December.
Pardon me. I'm having a moment. I need a break.
Ok... I'm back. So through all that, I kept pedaling. Those little emerald birds kept me going... or maybe it was simply because I was only a few miles into my ride. And I promised you I was going to complete a hundred mile weekend. Plus, I have a huge group of ALCers coming out next weekend from Southern California, and I had to ride part of the route that I hadn't ridden before. We're staying in Bonnie Springs Ranch and, although I've ridden part of the way in, I've never taken the road all the way into the ranch. So, for them, I had to check it out... make sure it was safe... and be able to answer any of their questions should they arise (By the way peeps, the ride from the main route to the ranch is just made of softly rolling hills. Nothing major at all. And the scenery is just beautiful backing up to those red rock mountains!).So this day was fairly uneventful. A thirty mile ride is pretty much nothing for me now. I had the opportunity to meet another beautiful stranger who supported the ride.... Mary, who manages the Bonnie Springs Motel. A couple months ago, when she found what our group was doing, she gave us something crazy like thirty-percent off our room rates. I also learned I'm getting better at controlling the needs of my bladder, even with all the hydrating I do on the ride so I didn't have to stop in any bushes (thank goodness I'm a guy.... sorry girls!). But the last thing... the last thing that kind of reminded me that this was like two days on the event was during the last stretch of today's route. The moment when I was flying downhill. When the wind was whipping past me, and another seldom heard song popped up on the iPod. The music is upbeat... jovial... entertaining. It reminded me of Red Dress Day. Of the fun to be had at rest stops along the way. Of campy drag and shouts of excitement. But the underlying theme is about a group of people working to fight the system. Changing the world. Making it a better place. Of the glitter we throw in the face of a crisis. My ride ended with this song.... which, in an odd way, represents what the week on AIDS/LifeCycle is about....
In the end, after these past two days, I learned lessons I hadn't thought I'd learn. Lessons greater than the logistics of the ride. More than remembering my water bottles & gloves. More than training myself to be prepared to ride dozens of miles and then get up and do it again the next day. As racers sped by me, I learned that I wasn't the fastest. As women older than me passed me on climbs, I realized I wasn't the strongest. Instead, I was reminded I wouldn't finish first. You see, this isn't a race. If it were, I'd be doing it for myself. For that prestige. For the acclaim. For that gold medal. But as you know, I'm not doing it for any of that. This is a ride. A ride for a reason. And I'm doing it for them. For those who are no longer with us. Or for those who can't ride. For those who couldn't complete 31 miles, let alone 70.
I'm doing this for all my emerald birds. Those which have flown away. And those which have somehow, through the greatest blessings ever, stuck around.
Please consider supporting my ride, and your own emerald birds... or even mine who are still around... by contributing to my AIDS/LifeCycle fund at this link:
Be well, my friends. But, more importantly, treat each other well.
J-
No comments:
Post a Comment