My First 50K...Riding

Lately I've found myself logging more miles than ever before, which is significant not because I have only recently come back from an 8-week injury, but because these miles are logged on my long-time nemesis, the bicycle. Yup, Kona has branched out into the compulsive world of cycling. And damn, it's an expensive sport. What's that ad...$2,000 bicycle, $400 bike rack, $200 for shoes and clips, $60 helmet...and a plethora of banged up and bloodied body parts, all in the name of fun? Hmmm...I must be getting soft in my old age.

Though I may be beginning to dig this sport, I am in no way falling in love with it. In fact, I'm not doing it because I think it's one of the funnest things I've done ('cause it's not); and I'm definitely not doing it because I am any good at it. Au contraire, I stink! For me, it's so much tougher than running -- physically and mentally!

But, and you're probably going to think I'm nuttier than squirrel poo, I ride because:

1. It absolutely scares the bajeezus out of me.
2. It's not easy for me.
3. I'm tired of sucking at it. I don't want to be the best, I just don't want to finish DFL.

Finally, and these are really secondary reasons...it's excellent cross-training. And, if millions of other people enjoy it, then perhaps I can come to find some fun in it too. (And my older running friends say that I can hang out with peeps my own age for once. ;)

After many months spent toying with this sport, I finally experienced a breakthrough today -- and luckily it didn't involve any literal "breaks." In all fairness, I have been tremendously enjoying the time I spend joyriding on my stealth black cruiser. It truly is fun. Casually pedaling along in short skirts, wind breezing through my hair, and Sunday drivers slowing down to wave hello, I ride to friends' houses, my local grocery store (where I put a 6-pack of beer in my front wicker basket), and my absolute favorite, Peet's coffee shop, early in the morning, where all of the suited businessmen stop to gawk at my "studly" "bitchin'" "killer" cruiser. It's too much fun! And a perfect way to start my day -- or unwind in the evening.

But serious riding -- like on a road or mountain bike -- is a whole different story. I am terrified of everything -- from bombing downhill at speeds that make the RoadRunner look slow; to other bikers whizzing by me and distracted drivers and squirrely bikes that wobble and shake with the slightest of touch. All of it feels so un-natural to me. I am most in my element when I am in my running shoes (i.e., no other equipment necessary like sweaty helmets or a cold hard seat riding up my bony ass), setting my own pace (i.e., no bike to pull me downhill faster or gears to get my uphill more easily), running along a quiet trail (i.e., no cars to run over me) and not exceeding speeds over 10mph. That is just me -- in control and in the zone.

With all that in mind, I decided mountain biking would be an easier step to take upon entry into the cycling world. The bikes are more stable and sturdy, the speeds typically less than road bikes (unless downhill), and the scenery much more to my liking. I figure I have 3 obstacles to overcome: 1) the fear, 2) the difficulty (I really do suck at it!), and 3) the lack of fun factor (probably related to the fear...it's hard to have fun when you're peeing inyour pants.)

So this past October, after a handful of trial "rides" in Tahoe and Moab, I visited the best bike shop around, Mad Cat Bicycles, which also happens to be where I found the aforementioned most awesome cruiser. The Mad Cat boys (namely Chris -- muchas gracias, chico!) once again hooked me up with a phenomenal bike -- a beauty of a Giant known as the Trance 2. I call it T2 (similar to my last name, not that Arnold film). For most of this summer, we have been getting to know each other. At first, I don't think it liked me much, trying to find ways to buck me off or slip out under me on steep climbs. Its chains have clawed my calves and the seat has provided some nice internal bruising, while the monstrous frame has done much to show me who's in charge. And one time when I was unloading it, I swear it took a cheap shot at my left cheek. In short, T2 has put me in my place. But never a quitter, I have resolved to seriously muscle up. No more will it get the best of me; like a Jedi master I will gain control over it. See....even with bikes, I must resort to see these silly games.

And this week, T2 and I finally hit it off. I can see it starting to grow on me. On Thursday we tackled some trails and climbs in Auburn. We had done them before but T2 had mocked me when I had tried to pedal up climbs in a low gear, and forced me to resort to hike-a-bike. It mocked me more when it came time to ride back down those hills (which it had previously made me walk) and I was too scared and resorted to drag-a-bike down. But not this week! No way! I showed T2 who was boss and this time we bounced our way up every single hill and flew down 'em all, to boot (well...we didn't exactly fly seeing as how I was giving the brakes a good test). It was pretty awesome. And as we came back to my car all good and dirtied up, I smiled at T2. Just maybe, this could be a fun sport. Checkmark: Obstacle #3!

Easy? Well, the jury's still out.

After giving T2 a few days rest (bikes, like running shoes, also need rest), I decided to take T2 out again today. Rather than lots of hills or climbs, I thought I'd test out his distance. I mean, I'm an endurance girl...I can go for hours! So if T2 is really my bike, I need to know if he can hang with me for that long. So I threw on my ancient tri bike shorts (to provide a little padding), filled up my Salomon hydration pack, packed some clif shot blocks and a fig bar, and set out for what I hoped would be a 2-hour ride. In all actuality, this was as much a test for me as it was for T2. My back injury makes it hard to sit for long periods and bouts of numbness down my leg are nothing new or unusual. I needed to know if I could hang!

About one hour into it, my left foot was numb but all in all, I felt pretty darn good. I had my ipod shuffle playing in one ear (similar to how I run, so I can still hear my surroundings) and I realized that unlike running, I could actually sing along while riding. "Shook me all night long, yeah you, shook me all night long!" Damn, this is pretty cool -- I can multi-task -- sing and ride and nobody can do a darn thing about it except sing a long or ride right on past me. Sweet deal!

It was also about this time that I started calculating how many miles I would be riding (I seriously hadn't thought about it at all...I was just going for time). And then it hit me like a tree branch just struck by lightning. On this day last year, I had run a PR at the Skyline 50K. I had wanted to run it again this year to defend my division title and score another PR, but it was seemingly not in the cards for this season. But...I rationalized, who says I can't ride a 50K and set another kind of PR? Heck, why not?!

As I made up my mind to ride 31 miles, another thought dawned on me...had I ever ridden this far? I thought and thought and thought...I had ridden about 25 miles once but that was on a stationary bike in the gym and I was watching Lance win his 6th Tour. I had ridden 15 miles once on the bike trail, in prep for a 12-mile ride in a sprint triathlon; and I had probably ridden at most 15 miles in one day in Moab. But that was it. I had never gone very long on a bike. And certainly not on T2. WTF was I thinking this morning? Oh well. Too late to change my mind now. I re-focused, geared up, and set out to finish my own 50K today, and if I bonked, crashed or burned...well, then I would simply bonk, crash or burn. So what?

But you know what? I didn't crash or burn. And a little bonk during an intense headwind (winds were strong all day at about 15-20mph) was quickly remedied with clif shot bloks and a mental pep talk of "This will only make you stronger and tougher! Think WS!" And when I crossed that imaginary finish line tape after 2 hours and 20 minutes of sitting on my bony ass, I felt pretty darn good for having just doubled my longest ride to 31.5 miles. Or maybe that was just the quasi-runners' high endorphins (???).

[Sidebar: okay, so i really do have a big fat runners' ass, but trust me... it's all bone when I'm in the saddle!).

I know a 50K ride is nothing to toot my horn about, and believe me, I ain't tooting! And it wasn't quite as exhilarating as "My First Un-Boston." But it is a teensy big deal for me given my 3 BIG obstacles, one of which I seemed to overcome today. And as I sit here typing, rejuved by a good burger, cold beer and ice cream, I relish in the fact that my questions were alas answered. Yes, I could hang. And T2 could hang as well. And so maybe, just maybe, I've met my match.
;)
Smiles,
Kona & T2

Pic: Me riding in Moab...just hours before the infamous storm broke!