A Ride to Remember, Part III

I have had several people ask me when I was going to write the next blog for Day Three of the ride. :) I was amused by all of these inquiries, as if my blog has its own fan following. So, I figured I should go ahead and write it before I forget the details, and before everyone goes crazy wanting to read it...

Day 3

Beth had to wake up early again today to go help Ashton, Cindy, the HMR Advantage people, and the other volunteers make Gatorade, divide up the snacks and drinks among SAG vehicles, and then load up the cars to go. Once I heard her get up, I let myself slowly wake up. I got out of bed ten minutes later, around 5:15. I didn't want to feel rushed again as I had the previous morning. I also wanted to be able to finish my coffee this time, so the first thing I did was start up the coffee maker in the room. Then I went to the ice vending machines and filled my water bottles with ice to melt as the morning wore on. When I walked outside, I was welcomed by the warm, still silence of the morning. All was quiet but for the faint chirping of crickets in the nearby bushes. I breathed the air in heavily and slowly, and closed my eyes to enjoy the only still moment of the day to come. I felt it was going to be a good day and not even 92 miles could change that.
Being used to my own coffee maker at home, I expected the coffee to be ready to go when I got back, but this maker was significantly slower than it should have been. I went ahead and got all my stuff together so I would be ready to go after breakfast. I rechecked my tires to see that they were well inflated and wiped the sweaty salt off of my helmet straps. By then Beth was out of the shower and it was my turn to wake myself up. She was impressed by my efforts to make coffee already, although it still didn't seem to be making much progress. Got a shower, got dressed, finally got some coffee, then headed to breakfast right at 6:00. The hotel lobby was already full of hungry cyclists by the time I got there. Today I opted for a muffin, some not-quite-ripe fruit, eggs, and a sausage-gravy biscuit. All of that was washed down with some apple juice and coffee (thought not mixed together). Once my belly was full, I went back to the room to douse myself with sunscreen and gather up all my stuff. It felt good not to be rushed and it felt even better knowing this was the last day of blissful torture I had to endure. In fact, I may have even whistled to myself as I got ready; but, who's to say that's true?

Once I was prepared, I drug all of my junk out to the front of the hotel and put my belongings on the trailer. I glanced around for Beth because we had vowed to get a picture of us together on this last day, having not done so the other two days. I didn't see her anywhere in the vicinity, so I propped my two-wheeler up against a column and went inside to turn in my key. As I entered, I was stopped by a friendly HMR lady with a very large camera. She asked if I had had my picture taken yet - of course I hadn't. So she took my picture which, in my opinion, turned out to be a rather goofy one of me. But, the HMR peeps were incredibly kind and had all of our pictures from that morning printed out during the day while we were riding and gave us the copy as a momento that same evening. (Thank you so much, ladies!)
Whew, okay, the key is turned in, a picture has been taken, I'm all sunscreened up... Guess I'm ready to go. I went to turn on my new cyclocomputer to make sure it didn't take a turn for the worst overnight, and, in doing so, accidentally reset it.

Sigh.

Though this is a cheaper computer from WAl-Mart, it has way more features than my previous two, like the outside temperature and number of calories burned. Thus, I had to input more information, which takes awhile. AND, since its "mode" and "set" buttons were in opposite places from my last two, I kept screwing up the input process and had to keep starting over. Ten minutes later, I had finally gotten the hang of it and Beth had just found me for a picture. Smile, you're almost done! *Snap* Time to go...


Wait, one more group picture! *Snap* Okay, NOW it's time to go...

And off we went! I was determined not to get stuck riding alone again today, so I pedaled hard to keep up with most of the pack. As we went down the semi-busy highway (it was Sunday morning after all), some of the support people used their cars and their presence to stop traffic. (By the way, it's a lot of fun to have someone block traffic for you as you sail through red lights on a bicycle.) Once we got settled again on the back roads, I found myself in a pack of about six. It was me and... well, five other people. No really, we had Geoff, Randall, Ken, me, and a couple whose names I can't remember. We stuck together for at least 70 miles of the day's trip before the couple took an alternate route along the way to go home (in Charleston) and the rest of us got separated by the mere force of exhaustion.
We were a group of moderate capability - not too fast, not too slow - that took time to talk along the way and enjoy the scenery when we thought about it. We used drafting to our advantage, always riding in a single file line with the front person leading the pack for as long as he or she was able before dropping to the back to let the next person in line take a turn.

As it turns out, the rumors are true - the bottom of the state really is flat. Flat as a pancake. On the contrary, my home in Woodruff is about as flat as a whole stack of pancakes. Or, in other words, it's not flat. Most of the time I felt like I was sitting on my trainer inside my living room with my legs pedaling away at a high cadence, barely noticing their effort. I didn't have to work hard to go fast (which was due in part to drafting) and I felt like I could go on that way all day. And, to make matters not at all worse, the relentless sun we had bore on our backs the previous two days hid behind the clouds for much of the day. Don't worry, it was still hot and still very muggy; but, the clouds and often the trees kept the severity of the heat off of us.

Honestly, this day's ride was not all that eventful from my standpoint. That's not to say it wasn't exciting - it was! In fact, there was a certain level of excitement present in all the riders and the support team at every rest stop. It seemed everyone was smiling, despite how tired or hungry they were. Our small pack chugged along like 'The Engine That Could.' We even traded places with the RTR elite "A" group several times, as they experienced several flats and mishaps along the way. We would ride by them as they pumped up a tube on the side of the road, then several minutes later they would pass by us at a water stop. Once again we would pass them on the side as someone was getting patched up from a minor wreck and they would catch up with us again later.

I fear I am writing this too long after the fact to remember many details along the way. At one rest stop I decided to try an energy drink because I was very thirsty. At first sip, I surmised that it was the most carbonated beverage I had ever consumed, and quite possibly not the best choice for a 92 mile ride. But I had already opened it and felt at least obligated to finish it. I didn't feel any sudden or prolonged burst of energy, but I did feel fizzy. Fortunately, though, the extreme bubbles did not hinder my performance that day.

Another treat to be found at all the rest stops that day was pickles. Apparently pickles pickled in their pickledy juices prevent cramping, particularly in one's legs. I don't know if all that's true, 'but you got me and baby I got you...'

Sorry.

I meant to say that I don't know if all that's true, but I do know that I love pickles! So, I ate 'em up! Every time I saw a jar of pickles, I snagged one (or two). All I can really say about that is that pickles do not taste very good with Gatorade, no matter what flavor it is. Please keep that in mind for your next epic ride.

As I said, I don't remember as much as I should and not nearly as much as I'd like. That may be in part to the euphoric feeling of personal triumph over three days of biking that I was experiencing throughout this third day. I didn't care how long it took me and I didn't care if I couldn't move at the end of the day - I was thrilled just to be doing it.
I do remember when I realized we were finally in the lower state, finally in Charleston territory. I can probably count on one hand (definitely no more than two hands) the number of times I've been to Charleston. It just isn't a place my family frequents and I have rarely had a reason or excuse to visit there. In fact, the last time I visited Charleston was some time in college, so it has been over five years since I've seen it.

It's still beautiful, though. :) When I began noticing the Spanish moss draped over the trees lining the road, I knew we had arrived. Not to mention the deep history you could sense was steeped in the old plantations along the way. I wish I could have enjoyed the scenery more, but we were often too busy trying to avoid either being hit by cars on busy roads or the millions of potholes dotting the road to look up and appreciate the beauty surrounding us. (Yeah, those Charleston roads pretty much sucked as afar as smooth, well-constructed roads go.) Around the time the Spanish moss showed up, I began to feel sticky. I thought I was used to feeling sticky, being from Spartanburg, but this was a different kind of sticky, one that is difficult to put into words. The humidity there seems thicker, more oppressive than what I'm accustomed to. It seems to drench you from the inside out. Had the sun been out in full force that day, I don't know that I could have gotten through the miserableness of all the heat.

Eventually, we stopped for lunch and I feasted. Once again, I had a sub sandwich, a bag of potato chips, a pickle, a bottle of Gatorade, and some fruit to fuel me the rest of the way. I also grabbed a banana to put in my pocket in case I got hungry in between stops. (I did eventually eat that banana, but I couldn't tell you when or where.) This would be the last stop where our small pack of riders would be ahead of the "A" group. At the following stop, which was the second to last stop, they caught back up with us and we let them go ahead before we started off again.

And that was when things got crazy and the real adventure began...

Between the second-to-last stop and the last stop before the absolute end of the ride, three things happened:

1. Ken, the other lady, and I got separated from Randall, Geoff, and the other guy.
2. The other lady and the other guy left to ride on to their house.
3. Ken and I somehow managed to catch up with the "A" group.

Once Ken and I realized we had lost the others and there was no turning back, we picked up our speed and soon found the "A" group within view; nay, within reach! So, I shouted something to Ken telling him to try and catch them (because he was in the front at the time) and we did, just as the tail end of their pack was going through a yellow light. That was a close one!

From that point to the end of the ride was the wildest time I think I've ever had on my bike. Ken and I were so focused on keeping up with all of them, I don't remember much of anything about my surroundings. This group wasn't very big on chatter, but they were apt to yell about anything and everything going on. That's actually how it's supposed to work in large groups like that, though it's not something I'm used to. If you had witnessed us riding by, you would have heard any number of directions and seen strange hand signals. For instance, if there's a hole, or a large bump, or any sort of strange obstacle in the road, the cyclists at the front of the pack shout the name of whatever it is - "Hole!" "Branch!" "Small child!" - while simultaneously waving their hands toward the object to signal its location. Once the front of the pack signals this instruction, the shouts eventually trickle to the back of the pack like a wave in a stadium. Obstacles aren't the only things you'll hear. Stop lights warrant either "Go!" "Stop!" or "Hold!" The word "hold" is accompanied by holding out your hand, palm facing drivers on either side of you to signal them to hold their position until your whole pack of cyclists gets through the stop light. I have no idea if drivers can actually hear what we're saying, but they do tend to wait until everyone has passed before they go again. Other sayings you'll experience in a group of riders such as this are "Left!" (this means we're either turning left or getting in the left lane), "Right!" (same as left, only right) and "Car back!" (this means 'beware, there's a car coming up behind us'). Honestly, I couldn't understand what the front half of the group was saying most of the time because they all shouted at once. I mainly just watched for hand signals.

Despite the speed at which we were riding and the lack of time spent admiring the landscape, I was glad to be with this group. We had arrived at downtown'ish (or at least somewhere in the city) where the roads were very busy. Had I been by myself, I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to navigate my way around those streets amongst the crazy traffic. With this group, I didn't have to think about that, I just had to ride and follow.
We came to the last rest stop of the day at a Barnes and Noble parking lot. We refueled as quickly as possible and prepared to leave again for the last ten to twelve miles. We were fortunate to come across a large fire truck leaving the parking lot the same time we were. Some of the group leaders asked the firefighters if they would pull out in the road before us and block traffic until we were all safely out. Either that or spray us down with their hoses. They didn't agree to hose us, but they did block traffic for a minute while we sped out on our way. Thank you, kind firemen! :)

The rest of the ride was, in a word, awesome! We traveled down the battery with the ocean on our right. It was gorgeous, and the breeze coming off the water was a blessing in itself. People along the road either gave us strange looks or smiled and waved at us as we rode by. Once we got past the water we were met with blocks and blocks of stop lights. So there was a lot of clipping and unclipping (our pedals) as well as shouts of "Stop!" "Go!" and "Hold!"

Then, there was the bridge. The Arthur Ravenel Bridge. No one told me about the bridge. (And no, I did not take this awesome picture as I was riding on a bike, not in a helicopter.) I'm sure it didn't even exist the last time I came to Charleston. But it was there now, going up, up, up, and away. The constructors of the bridge were kind enough to put a bike/walk pathway on it, sufficiently separated from the cars. So that was the path we took, naturally.
I realized when we started that the bridge went uphill, and I was initially okay with that. But, after about five minutes of climbing, I began to think that Escher must have had a hand in designing this like one of his never-ending staircases. We just kept going up and it felt like it would never end. This uphill battle separated our group into several smaller groups of threes, twos, and ones as we struggled to get to the bridge's peak. Not only was the bridge ride tough, it was also scary. To your left were cars flying past you (though there's a wall separating them from you) and to your right and below was a vast expanse of water (also separated by a wall). As I rode, my mind likened it to the beginning of a roller coaster where you are slinking up the track before you get to the top and fly down. You don't want to look down because everything seems so tiny and far away. Yikes.
After what seemed like two hours (it was really only about ten minutes), we reached the plateau at the top and stopped to enjoy the view. Everyone had their cameras and phones out to take pictures, so I decided to do the same. I took about three to four pictures before I realized my camera had chocolate all over it from an open, melting Cliff bar with which it had shared a pocket. I understand that common sense says not to put your camera in the same pocket as a chocolate Cliff bar during a six hour bike ride on a 90+ degree day; but, when you're riding along with a main focus of trying to finish a ride alive, it's hard to remember what pocket is holding what and you don't bother concentrating on such trivial matters. Thus, it was just a dumb mistake. Could have happened to anyone. Perhaps needless to say, my pictures came out blurry due to there being chocolate on the lens. (I will post them here anywhere for your amusement.) I tried wiping it off, but I didn't have a dry spot on me suitable for the task. Besides, it was time to go again. (I will have you know, however, that I did move the camera to a different pocket following my realization.)
If there's one thing I've learned from cycling, it's that for every uphill there's a downhill, and vice versa. So, down we went! :) This would be more like the fun part of the roller coaster, minus the loopy loops. I sailed down the bridge, turned right (because everyone else was turning right) and "Voila!" there was the hotel! Just like that I was done, I had made it! Many of the other riders in the group I had been following went on a few more miles to make the day's ride be a century (100 miles). I had been toying with the idea myself all along the ride, but as soon as I saw the hotel and my brain registered that it meant the end, my legs heard my brain and decided they didn't want to go any farther. I couldn't blame them and I sure wasn't going to push them after all they had done for me the past three days, so I pulled into the hotel. The century milestone could wait.

And that was that. :) I rode 92.9 miles that day at an average speed of 16.7 miles per hour and having a maximum speed at some point of 28.9 mph. It took me 5 hours and 33 minutes, and I burned 3,061 calories. That's a day and a half's worth of calories burned in less than six hours - no wonder I had been so hungry all weekend!
After I finished, I just sat around and waited to be told what to do. I didn't have a hotel room to look forward to since we were staying at Beth's sister's house that night. So, I grabbed a bottle of water, found a shady place to sit by a hotel column, leaned my back against the column, and closed my eyes and pondered all that I had accomplished over the weekend. It was mind boggling to me everything that had happened. I was proud of myself for hanging in there all three days. "Just keep swimming" my husband had told me in the wise words of Dory the fish before I left on Friday.

I did. And now I was done.

A Ride to Remember, Part II

DAY 2

"It was the best of times. It was the worst of times." And 5:30 comes early.

It's hard to say why Saturday was both maddening to me and yet wonderful at the same time. Many frustrating events took place, both for me and for the ride as a whole. There were many, many flat tires spread out among the riders, some riders got lost, it was the hottest of the three days, and the riders were so spread out throughout the route that the support vehicles had trouble keeping up with all of us from beginning to end.

But allow me to start from the beginning...
Beth woke me up around 5:40. I didn't get up right away because I knew what was coming: more biking. Once I did finally get up, I grabbed a quick shower just to help wake me up, then headed off to breakfast. Remembering my extreme appetite of the previous day, I ate as heartily as I dared to start me off for the day. I probably should have gotten up earlier, or at least hopped out of the bed at the actual time I was awakened, because I felt kind of rushed once I got back to the hotel room. I had to repack all of my stuff I had strewn about from the previous day, refill my water bottles, put on sunscreen, and take everything down the elevator to the lobby by 7:00. Somehow I succeeded, though sluggishly. All the riders got together and pictures were snapped of the faithful pedalers before the start of the day's ride.

Over all, I was very surprised when I awoke to find that my legs felt okay. They were a little sore, but not so much that every stroke I took that morning was a painful one. And my face looked much less red that morning, which was a small comfort in itself. In fact, aside from being ridiculously sleepy, I felt great! I didn't have time to finish off my cup of coffee for the morning, so the caffeinated energy kick I was counting on didn't occur. When we started rolling away, I remembered my mistake of pushing too hard at the beginning of yesterday's ride and decided to take it easy for this day's beginning. I dropped to the back of the pack and pulled out my iPod once we hit the country roads. A nice country stroll with my earphones in place seemed to be just what I needed to get myself out of my sleepy funk.

I coasted along, enjoying watching the sun rise over the countryside and was able to remind myself of the reasons I wanted to do this ride in the first place: 1. Raise money and support for the Alzheimer's Association - they need our help! 2. Test my physical limits with my greatest cycling challenge yet. 3. Enjoy a ride across South Carolina - this chance doesn't come often. Once you get your priorities straight again and forget the possible pain and sacrifice that accompany them, life (and a bike ride) gets a little brighter.

Along I go, just pedaling to my own tempo. I don't see another cyclist anywhere in front or behind me and I have no idea where I am in comparison with the rest of the group. That didn't bother me; I just wanted to set the scene for you for what happened next. I was on a busy road (I don't know which one, I'd have to check the cue sheet) with traffic constantly coming both ways. The white line on this road was one of those rumble-strip-things. Honestly, I don't know what they're called, but they make a loud noise when your car goes over them in case you've fallen asleep and need to wake back up again in order to continue driving. I was not asleep anymore and thus had no reason to be too close to the line and hit the rumbly things. So, I stayed just to the left of the white line, trying not to get too far into the middle of the lane so the cars coming my way would have no trouble passing me. Lo and behold, I found out that the midlands of SC also has stupid drivers. In fact, if there were such an award, I would give this driver the "I thought I had seen everything; but you win!" award. A red, Ford F-150 coming towards me in the opposite lane decided to pass the car in front of him on a double yellow line. To the best of my current knowledge, this move is still illegal in South Carolina. Not only does he decide to make said illegal move, he decides to do it just as I am passing by at the same time. So he "politely" blinked his headlights at me to order me out of the way so he could pass someone on a double yellow line. You must understand that these cars were going much faster than I was and this whole ordeal happened in a matter of seconds. I had but moments to figure out what the heck the F-150 driver was doing, why he was blinking his lights at me, and get out of the way in time for him to pass me and the other car at the same time. Now, let me remind you that the white line was a rumbly one and in passing over it to get out of the way of the truck, I was lucky I didn't go flying off my bike from the sudden jolt of the raised bumps. It would be similar to hitting a rock in the middle of the path after sharply steering your bike to the right in order to avoid an oncoming wall that seemingly appeared out of nowhere...

Or something like that.

Either way, I was a bit shaken up by the incident and very angry at the total disregard for the traffic laws of South Carolina, my right to be on the road as a cyclist, and my daily wish to stay alive a little longer. Fortunately, I serve a big God and was glad He was around to give me enough wits to get out of the way fast. That was that and on we go...

At the next rest stop I fumed to the support staff about the above incident, scarfed down some Fig Newtons, once again sprayed on sunscreen, and went on my way. Soon after that, I noticed the Ambulance pass me on their way down the route. The EMTs for the day were friendly fellows and they waved as they went by (oh yeah, the Ambulance EMTs changed each day of the ride... forgot to tell you that). I continued following the path and eventually caught up with the Ambulance. When I finally did, I began to notice they were traveling quite slowly, always staying just ahead of me. Whenever a car came around me, the ambulance pulled off to the side and let the car pass them too. Every time I struggled up a hill, they would drive out of sight until I got to the top of the hill where I would see them waiting for me at the bottom. Then, as soon as I got close again, they would begin coasting forward as well, remaining within view but never close enough to draft off of. (Dang.) This situation seemed so bizarre to me (especially after having the Ambulance trail me the previous day), I was starting to wonder if perhaps Beth or the other support staff had given them explicit instructions to stick with me because of the crazy story I had just fumed about at the previous stop. But, after about an hour of following the Ambulance, I had gotten used to their presence and actually began to appreciate their indirect company. I didn't feel quite as lonely with them around, and was also beginning to see and appreciate the humor of my now 2-day personal relationship with the Ambulance.

They kept up with me to the next rest stop and decided to follow behind me after that one instead of being my guide. That was fine with me! Within about thirty minutes of that stop, I saw a lone rider in red traveling within view a good ways ahead of me. I caught up with him faster than I thought I would because he had to stop on the side of the road. I rode up next to him, checking to see if he was okay and realized it was Randall. He was fine - his chain had popped off for the second time that day and he was putting it back on. When I looked back to see where my Ambulance had gone, I saw the two guys walking toward us while the Ambulance itself was sitting running on the side of the road. Randall was back on his bike by then, so I yelled back to the EMTs that his chain had just come off and we were fine. They smiled, waved in acknowledgment, and headed back to their vehicle. "Haha," I thought, "I like these guys!" I hopped back on my own noble steed and chased after Randall.

Now there were three RTR vehicles riding along in our very own caravan - two bikes and an Ambulance. Fortunately, on this long, hot second day, the support staff had posted rest stops every ten miles. (I didn't know until later how difficult this had been for them as we were all spread out from beginning to end and some SAG vehicles were out and about looking for the few groups of riders who had gotten lost, making them short on vehicles and support volunteers for the rest stops.) Ten-mile rest stops were nice because it was a steamy day and hydration and sunscreen were imperative, it helped the miles tick by a little faster, and, if you've been riding alone for awhile, it was nice to have some human contact every 45 minutes or so.
Randall, the Ambulance, and I came upon one such stop about twenty minutes after we had all gotten together and pulled off for some much needed refreshment. I don't remember what mile it was (maybe around 40?), but I do remember being surprised at how good I felt. My legs still felt strong and I was much more awake now than I was at the beginning of the day. Also, it was about the halfway mark of the second day, so that technically meant we were halfway through the whole ride... right? Right! If I've made it halfway through, then I know I can finish this thing! And, as a bonus, I had heard stories of flat lands where bikes go fast and riders don't have to work as hard to power them. Being from the Upstate, I was skeptical of such rumors, but willing to accept their validity as soon as I could experience them.
At this same stop, one of the friendly Ambulance fellows inquired whether I was bothered by them following me. I told him it was fine as long as it wasn't because I looked sickly and/or dehydrated. He assured me it was not for that reason, but because when they saw I was riding alone, they were worried for my safety as a loner and decided to stay with me unless they were called elsewhere. Ah, human kindness still exists. I thanked him and assured him I wasn't bothered by their presence. Not anymore, anyway. :)

I refilled my bottles, put on my sunscreen, and downed a pack of Skittles (which you can afford to do if you're riding 85 miles) before we set off again. I was grateful for the company of Randall and for my body's strange enthusiasm for riding more miles. I actually felt happy about the day's ride and eager to get going again (must be those endorphins I'm always hearing about). Of course, that was then, and the day was not yet over. Not even close.

A few interesting events happened in the next 23 or so miles. Firstly, and worst of all, I lost my cyclocomputer (may it rest in peace). Yes, this is the very same computer I had just bought Monday specifically for this ride because my old one was messed up. I failed to mention that the screen had fallen off its handlebar mount the previous day, but it was recovered without incident. It apparently couldn't hang on this day either, though I don't know why. I hadn't hit a bump or anything to jar it - it was just a bad mount set-up, I believe. Anyway, I heard it drop and immediately squeezed my brake levers hard, making them squeal. I did a u-turn and stood on the opposite side of the road, having to wait for two cars to pass before I could try retrieving it. I saw it laying close to the white line and prayed the cars wouldn't hit it. The first car went by fairly slowly, probably wondering why I was just standing on the side of the road staring at them as they went by, and evaded my poor computer. The second car came flying by, and as it did, I witnessed my computer screen go flying too.

CRAP.

I sighed an anticipatory angry sigh and crossed the street to assess the damage.

CRAP AGAIN.

The screen was chipped and cracked and looked like one of those psychological ink blot pictures.
I was mad. I wanted to throw the screen as hard as I could into the field beside me, shout curses, and stomp my feet. But, as none of that seemed like it would help the situation and might alert the Ambulance people that something really was wrong with me, I just stared at the screen in disbelief for several seconds instead, then put it in my back pocket so I wouldn't have to see it again until the end of the ride.

I caught back up with Randall who had stopped when he heard my brakes squealing behind him, and explained what had happened. He then became our chief navigator and I was knighted our time keeper (it was all I could offer). We decided to work out a makeshift drafting system around that point, with each of us doing two-mile duty. I would lead the way for two miles, then drop back behind him while he led for two miles. The wind that day (and the next, for that matter) was pretty horrendous, so the leader of our two-man pack had a rough job. But it got us to the next stop safe and sound.

About the time my computer committed suicide, I started getting hungry. Not just, "Oh, I could eat lunch soon" hungry, but "Oh my gosh, I'm starving! When's the next stop??" hungry. Luckily, I had a Cliff bar in my pocket, so I munched on it 'til the next stop. Randall was really hungry too, and we both figured lunch had to be just around the next corner. We were both under the impression that lunch was to be given between the 50 and 55 mile markers and should be coming up soon.

We were wrong.

We found a rest stop waiting for us around mile 50. Just a quick stop, no lunch. We ate whatever they had laying around and refilled our bottles once again. We also took a slightly longer break under the shade of their tent because it was getting unbearably steamy outside. Also at this stop, one of the support people taped up my foot (there were no band aides) because I was developing a large blister on my right heel. Honestly, it only hurt when I walked, not biked; but, I let her tape me up anyway. I knew my sweat would render the tape useless sooner than later, but I figured it might last until at least lunch. By the way, "Where is lunch?!" I asked them. "Mile 63" was the answer. I noted that thirteen more miles was nearly another hour of riding and Randall replied that he didn't want to think about it in those terms. Oh well, here we go. Back to two-mile duty.

But it wasn't another hour. Once we left the rest stop in Pelion, we experienced one last big hill and then the landscape miraculously turned flat. That was a miracle in timing because without lunch we were running on fumes, and it's hard to make it up hills on only fumes Flat land is so much easier!

We finally made it to the town of North, mile 63 on our route, and refueled at their town hall. I ate a turkey sub, a bag of chips, and several pieces of watermelon for lunch. I also downed a whole bottle of Gatorade. Feeling much better after that, we rode off again with the knowledge that we only had a little over 20 miles left to go that day.

Our two-man team had grown to three after lunch and we drafted our way to the next stop which seemed to come out of nowhere. The roads were significantly flatter by then and our average speed had increased. The young ladies at the stop told us we had less than ten miles to go... Ten miles is nothing, let's go!
Somehow along the way, Geoff (our third man) and I got separated from Randall and we went the last five or so miles alone. I felt the need to keep up with someone since I no longer had a computer of my own to help guide me. We ended up riding along a very heavily trafficked road, complete with a Wal-Mart and several restaurants dotting the sides. This was probably the one road of the entire ride that I hated. We were surrounded by cars giving off hot fumes on an equally hot road on the hottest day of the ride. We stopped at red light after red light, hoping the cars would see us and not try to hit us out of spite. The worst part of the worst road was having to cross two lanes of traffic to get in the left turning lane. Just because you stick your left arm out to inform the drivers you want to turn left doesn't mean they care. Sometimes it's a particularly dangerous sport.

Don't worry; we made it. Only three miles left to go. Just keep pedaling. Let the sweat drip off your face because there's not a dry spot left on you to use to wipe it off. Breathe in, breathe out. We saw a water park on our right and I shouted to Geoff, "That's not fair!" He responded with a tired chuckle.

Then we finished! Sorry, that was a little anti-climactic. But we did, once again to the cheers of the riders who came before us. I propped my bike up against the hotel wall, shed my helmet, unzipped my jersey as far as it would go, and went in search of my flip-flops. I noticed that all the riders were still hanging around outside, mostly by the pool. In fact, many of them had freed themselves from their jerseys and just jumped in with their cycling shorts. I quickly surmised that our rooms weren't ready yet and everyone was just trying to cool off while waiting. I also noticed one rider sitting against a column, shaking. The Ambulance was nearby and the medics were setting up the stretcher thing to put her in the Ambulance. She had apparently just recently been put on a gluten-free diet which hadn't suited her well that day. She was very dehydrated and at a lack of adequate calories. After about two hours, they had nursed her back to health and she was able to go on and finish the ride the next day. Thank goodness for the Ambulance!

I didn't see Beth around, so I grabbed a bottle of water and laid down on the hotel sidewalk. I had to smile - I just completed two-thirds of the longest, hardest ride of my life thus far. And I felt great! In a manner of speaking. My legs were tired, but not shot. My back and neck were sore, but they could rest. I was hot, but in the shade cooling off. The only part of me that was in dire pain was my bottom. It had now endured twelve hours of sitting on a tiny seat being chafed by lycra. Poor bum.

Now, to speed things up a bit, here's more of a summary format of the rest of the evening...

1. Beth and I had some trouble getting our reserved room, but it all worked out in the end.
2. I took a shower - not as sunburned today.
3. Hungry again; ate half a sub and two bags of chips.
4. Watched TV while waiting around for supper.
5. Went to supper at 5:30; ate at the All-Star Deli; was really hungry; good food!
6. Went by Wal-Mart with Beth and Cindy after supper to buy a new cyclocomputer. Again.
7. Installed the computer, inflated bike tires, prepared everything for the next day.
8. Still felt good and excited, so I played cards with Beth until 10:00 that night.

Even Beth observed that I didn't seem nearly as tired that night as I had been the previous night. She was right! I was ready to finish off this epic ride and excited about doing so.

I slept well.. :)

A Ride to Remember, Part I

It is finished. :)

And what a journey it was! I wasn't able to post any blogs or pictures over the weekend due to a lack of internet connection and lack of expendable energy. But fear not, I shall catch you up now in three or four parts with as much as I can remember. Enjoy the ride...

DAY 1

The day started early for me and included many last minute preparations and packing, along with a quick, nervous breakfast. My wonderfully supportive Ma-in-law came and picked up my bike and me around 7:00 and we were off to Simpsonville. Upon arrival, I was greeted by the many smiling faces of the ever-friendly Alzheimer Association staff along with the eager, excited faces of all the cyclists taking part. I checked in, received a goody bag, put on sunscreen, loaded my bags, took a few pictures, and then stood around waiting for the ride to begin. There were people everywhere - some on bikes, some wearing volunteer shirts, some snapping pictures, some saying goodbye for three days. Before we began, several different important people stood on a foldout chair and expressed their heartfelt gratitude for our participation, as well as inspirational words to motivate our then-fresh legs to keep pedaling. (I can't remember all that was said, and, even if I did, it would take too much time and space to write here.)

Then we were off! (Keep in mind I can only write from my own point of view and personal experience which is undoubtedly not the same as everyone else's.) In hindsight, I believe I began the ride on the wave of too much excitement and went too hard at the beginning, forgetting to save my legs for the many, many rolling miles ahead that day. I made wonderful time for the first 16 miles, averaging 15.8 mph when arriving at the first rest stop. Since I had breakfast pretty early that morning I was already hungry after only one hour of riding. I downed some Fig Newtons while saying hello to Beth and being introduced to a certain Ashton Houghton, head over this crazy ride. I didn't stay long (no time to waste) and traveled alone for awhile. I eventually caught up with a fellow cyclist I had met earlier in the ride, Randall Simmons, and we rode and chatted for awhile. He is from Goose Creek and not accustomed to the hills of the Upstate; so, much of this day's ride was a challenge. For both of us. It was even a challenge for me, despite training daily among said hills. I cannot recall many details about Friday's ride. It was mostly a long process of pushing myself up hills and coasting back down them. Lunch was provided around mile 35ish and Subway sandwiches were on the menu. At that point I felt there was no way I was going to be able to eat a whole sub and ride another 30 miles in the heat without getting sick, so I gobbled up a banana and munched on some watermelon instead. I also remembered then that I am a redheaded, pale-skinned human and should probably reapply the sunscreen that I had inevitably sweated off since the beginning of the ride. So, with sunscreen slathered on, water bottles overflowing, and sunglasses cleaned by the magic of cotton, Randall and I pedaled on.
Once again, I don't remember many specifics about the ride during this time except snapshot images my brain took and random thoughts that occurred to me along the way. I do vividly recall random SAG vehicles driving by with enthusiastic individuals "woo-hooing" us along the way. I also remember seeing Ashton's car drive by being closely followed by a WYFF, News Channel 4 car, then seeing them again a little ways down the road filming us coming down a hill. (So, we're pretty much famous now.)

But, what I remember most vividly is being on mile 51, feeling the heat of the sun directly overhead and wondering if I could really make it. I knew I didn't have too much farther to go, especially compared to what I had already accomplished, but it seemed that all that I could see before me was miles and miles of hot road with no shade. I had somehow gotten separated from Randall by this point and was all alone battling fatigue, heat, and will-power. I wouldn't call it a "bonk," per say, because I knew my legs had the strength to finish and I felt as well-hydrated as I could be at the time. But heat is hot, especially at 12:30 in South Carolina, and the sun alone will create doubts in your mind as to whether or not you are capable of doing much of anything, much less great things. I took a picture of both me and the road that lay before me at this point so in the end I wouldn't forget how I felt then and how far I had come since. Fortunately, at the moment I needed it most, another cyclist rode by and encouraged me. I'm glad she did. :) I mustered through the remaining 12-15 miles with most of the battle occurring in my mind. Towards the end, with only a mile or so to go, the Ambulance that was keeping up with us throughout the ride caught up with me and one of the EMTs hung her head out of the window inquiring whether or not I was okay. I replied through short, winded breaths that I was hot, but fine. She answered me silently with a suspicious look - I don't think she believed me at all - and the Ambulance proceeded to follow along beside me the rest of the way. I'm sure I looked like a hot mess - I mean, obviously, I had just ridden nearly 67 miles - but it made me a bit worried and uncomfortable having the Ambulance trail me, like I might drop any second. However, this was just the beginning of my new-found relationship with the Ambulance...

I finally made it to the end amongst the cheers of fellow riders who had already completed their ride. I was hot and I was tired. It had taken me five and a half hours to complete 67 miles. Once I arrived, I found a place to leave my bike and sat down guzzling water. My legs felt pretty wasted and I sat wondering how in the world I would survive two more days like this on the bike.
Eventually, Beth and I were able to check in at the hotel and I got the chance to shower. When I finally saw myself in the mirror, I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I looked miserable, first of all, with my hair all in tangles, my jersey drooping from the weight of a day's worth of sweat, and my black shorts now gray from all the salt they accumulated over the ride. That was why I wanted to laugh. But then I wanted to cry when I saw my cherry-red cheeks and nose. I was sunburned and not at all happy about it. At that moment I vowed to put sunscreen on my face at every stop the next day.
My spirits were lifted a bit once I got out of the shower and I finally had the wherewithal to realize I was famished! I hadn't really eaten a lunch, though I had been munching and gushing all along the ride. Beth, being the compassionate friend she is, hunted down a leftover lunch sandwich and some grapes for me to chow down on. I ate it fast and hungrily, not really even tasting it. That was around 3:30. At 5:30, when it was time for us to meet for supper, I was starving all over again. As it turns out, you burn a lot of calories riding for 5 hours and your body likes for those calories to be replaced. I wasn't used to feeling so ravenous so often.


We went to the lake home of Van Matthews, one of the riders and Alz. Assoc. board members. He was kind enough to fill us up with barbeque, potato salad, and cole slaw to our belly's content. And I finally got my belly to be content... for awhile. I have to admit that I felt pretty listless through most of this evening. I was tired, hot, and tired of being hot and tired. I jumped in the lake to float around awhile and cool off. The water itself wasn't necessarily cool, but being in it kept the humidity at bay, which made it cooler by default. I'm not sure how long we floated there, but it felt like a wonderful forever just hanging on to a float and letting my legs dangle uselessly. I also went for a short swim while I was in the lake for the sole purpose of stretching out my poor, curled-up cycling body. My neck, shoulders, back, and arms needed the short swim to work out the kinks they had acquired from being in the same, bent-over position all day. I also went for a very breezy boat ride around the lake, compliments of Van, which I enjoyed thoroughly. I truly had a good time at supper, but I was simply too tired to enjoy it all night. When Beth and I got back to the hotel, we both enjoyed a calming hot cup of decaf coffee before going to bed. Fearing a potential night of restlessness and equally fearing an inability to wake in the morning. I took half a dosage of Advil PM and called it a night around 9:00 with my stomach strangely rumbling once again.

I can't say that I slept perfectly soundly - I awoke a few times during the night - but I believe I slept as well as I could considering that I was sleeping in a strange place and had sore, stiff legs screaming at me all night for attempting this 3-day ride in the first place.

On to Day 2...

Still, when it was all said and done, I had completed the day's task and come out with a new personal record of over 67 miles in one trip.

Check, please

Bike? Check.

Jersey and shorts? Check, check.

Gatorade? Check.

Excitement? Check.

Sleep?... Sleep? We shall see.

Wish us luck, we're off!

:D

The Final Week

(Final Week, Day 3, Wednesday, July 14th)

It occurred to me that, as this is the week of the big ride, I should probably write something regarding cycling. Despite having already taken the weekend off from riding, I'm taking it easy on the bike this week. There's no reason for me to force my legs to carry me 40-60 miles today or tomorrow, then ask them to accomplish their greatest feat yet over the weekend. So, easy goes it.

I went for a short, albeit steamy, ride on Monday evening - it only amounted to about 16 total miles. I took Tuesday off and went for a walk instead of a ride. And today I rode over to my parents' house to watch Stage 10 of the Tour. It's amazing how hot it is at just 8:00 in the morning. It only takes me about 45 minutes to get to my folks' and my jersey, face, and hair were all dripping with sweat by the time I arrived. Sigh... it's not really fun to think about the heat that's sure to plague us during the RTR, so I just don't don't.

Once I go back home, I will have racked up about 20 miles for the day, which isn't bad. I brought my laptop with me in my super-sized, super-wonderful backpack so I could get some things done while watching the TdF - I don't want to be completely lazy - and during the ride I regretted that decision. Laptops are heavy and the burden I created for myself held me back considerably. It made me think that maybe I should have done all my training with a laptop on my back so that when it came time to ride without it, I would feel as light as a feather. With that said, I do believe I will leave the bag here for my trip home. It's just too hot now to have all that extra weight hanging on your back. I'll come back in the car later and pick it up.

I have no real interesting news to report. I bought a new cyclocomputer and it's working well. I'm a little anxious about all that is coming, as I usually am. I have a habit of being nervous before big events, whether it's a charity ride, a triathlon, a concert, a big test/exam, or whatever. However, fortunately, that nervousness usually evaporates once I begin. Part of my anxious state stems from having nothing to distract me. I've finished my summer class, I don't have a job, and I don't have any daily obligations to keep my mind off of riding over 200 miles. So, I'm watching the TdF, packing and repacking, drinking tons of water, and picking blueberries when I feel like it.

One fun aspect of big rides like this is carbo-loading: My husband and I are planning on pigging out at Pizza Inn Thursday night for just such a purpose. :) (Or at least, I'm planning on pigging out...)

A Break

(Week 5, Days 5-6, Friday-Saturday, July 9 & 10)

I'm taking a break this weekend, partially by choice. My husband, Patrick/Frac/Fozzie/Gloodin of Doodin, is filming the last episodes of the "The Carrier" web series in Raleigh over the weekend, and I've gone with him. I guess I didn't have to go, but... well, it's the last episodes! So here I sit writing things like this while he's busy becoming famous.

This probably isn't a good weekend to slack off, but it's too late now. And, to make matters worse, all I've really been doing is sitting around eating junk food, working crosswords, and eating more junk fod. I bet I'll gain a few unnecessary pounds which won't help me ride any faster or longer.

But I like junk food.

In other news, here's the update on my cyclocomputer: It's useless. I checked online to see if I could find it anywhere or any valuable inormation about it. All I found was bad review after bad review. Apparently the one I have, which has lasted me nearly 3 years, was an anomoly. Most reviews I read noted that theirs quit on them after a mere 3-6 months of use. There were several testimonials of people who had bought new batteries, just as I have, and were still unable to revive the machines. Oh well.

I suppose my options are to either order a new one offline and pay astronomical shipping prices to get it here in time for RTR, or I can go to Great Escape, where things are slightly overpriced, and hope they have a decent one on hand. I'm currently leaning towards the G.E. option so I don't have to wait for it to come in the mail and I can begin using it right away. In the meantime, though, I'll keep giving my current computer CPR in hopes that it wil rise again.

"And that's how Sue C's it..."

Ugggghhh, dangit.

(Week 5, Day 4, Thursday, July 8th)

It's really hot and my new battery doesn't work. I am not happy.

Let me explain:
First of all, it's hot. Too hot for riding. I didn't go out today until 4:00 and it was miserable. I only went for about 11 miles and I went as fast as I could. Even a warm breeze in your face is better than the humid, dead air you feel when you stop.
And, to make matters worse, or at least more annoying, the new battery I bought yesterday for my cyclocomputer isn't working. At all. I messed with it last night and again today before and afer my ride with no luck whatsoever. I even tried putting the old battery back in and it still didn't work. So now I have a broken computer and very little time to either get it fixed or purchase a new one before the RTR.

To top things off, I also had to buy four new tires for our car today. It wasn't the best of days. It wasn't the worst of days either.

Hopefully, this heat will break soon and I can get a working computer in some form or fashion in the ensuing week.

Adventure!

(Week 5, Day 5, Wednesday, July 7th)

Riding with Dillon is almost always an adventure!

I arrived at Dillon's place around 5:30, even though I wasn't supposed to be there 'til 6:00. I left early to go by Batteries Plus for a new battery for my bike computer, but I guess I overestimated how long that would take me. It was no bother, though, because it gave us some extra time to work on my bike. After some hammering, pushing, pulling, yelling, lubing, and degreasing, we were finally able to get on the road around 6:45. We had planned to leave around 6:30, but since when does anything go according to plan?

Dillon had visited the infamous mapmyride.com and printed out directions to a route about 20 miles long. We set out lighthearted and eager to ride. Our route took us through some beautiful places, including a bridge right over Lake Bowen. We followed the directions to the best of our ability, no matter how weird they seemed.

I wish I could tell you how far we went before we realized our directions weren't perfect and we were headed for North Carolina, but the new battery I had just bought for my computer was not working. After not finding a certain "Old North Main Street," we finally turned around in a cemetary and started heading back the way we came. I guess we were never once lost - Dillon at least knew how to get us back home - but, I never knew where we were.
Once we decided to head back, the sky decided to get dark. I think we turned around at about 8:30 and began cycling down Asheville Highway like fiends. Since we had left thinking we were only going to go 20 miles, neither of us had really come prepared for low-light conditions. Or at least, I hadn't. Dillon did have a tail light on his bike. We also hadn't eaten supper before we left because full belly + 97 degrees + cycling = ugh. Unfortunately, though, cycling burns some calories, whether you've concusmed them or not. However, Dillon had a Cliff bar on hand so we split it in order to keep hope alive. Or something like that.
We didn't get back until 9:10, effectively utilizing every last ounce of daylight there was. Despite being woried about not being seen by drivers, I rather enjoyed our sunset ride. In fact, there is something to be said for riding at dusk. Not the typical, "Wow, are you crazy; that's dangerous," but more like a, "Wow, this magical, can you feel it" sort of thing. At one point, towards the end, I was behind Dillon and we were going downhill on some back road that was completely lined by trees on both sides. The trees completely blocked what little sunlight was left, making it hard to see. What I did see was the steady red flash of Dillon's tail light acompanied by the arbitrary blinking all around us of lightning bugs. It was indeed a sight to behold and I let myself coast down the road, drinking it all in. Sometimes I wish you could see what I see. No picture could have done that scene justice. It made me believe that lightning bugs (or, if you prefer, fireflies) were put on earth just to awe us.

We did finally make it back, in case you're wondering, after traveling 30 total miles in nearly two and a half hours. Not quite what we planned, but it all worked out in the end. Thankfully, Aunt Janice had some supper waiting for us when we arived, so we didn't have to suffer for long.

Another memorable ride goes down in the books.

:-)

(Week 5, Day 2, Tuesday, July 7th)

I was much more lighthearted about riding today. I think the extra day of rest helped to ease my frustrations. However, I did decide to throw half of my training plan out the window - the half that tells me how fast or how hard to ride at each moment during the ride. I'm just going to go for the duration that I need to and leave all other worries behind. I can work on sprints and interval training some other time.

I paid a quick visit to the nice ladies working in the Alzheimer's Association's office in downtown Spartanburg today. I originally went to pick up a purple bracelet to wear as a reminder for why I'm doing what I'm doing, and in the process was blessed with having a humbling conversation with them.
I am always amazed that others are amazed that I can ride a bike more than five miles. I'm really not all that good at it - I do it because I enjoy it, because I like to stretch my physical limitations from time to time, and because I've been endowed with large quadriceps that I may as well use for something. So, I'm still surprised when people think I'm crazy (If you think I'M crazy, you should watch the TdF guys!). I guess it's similar to me wondering why in the world people purposefully run marathons... ?!? (Cycling is easier on the knees, you know...) Anyway, if you're doing RTR and are low on inspiration or having second thoughts, just go visit Beth, Joyce, and Jill at the Alzheimer's Association. Their sincere joy and gratitude at your willingness to help support their cause is enough to renew your energy and resolve to attempt and complete the task. In fact, if it weren't for my dear friend, Beth Sulkowski, selling the idea of the ride to me in the first place, I wouldn't be writing any of this. If you're not doing the ride and would simply like to become acquainted with kind people, or if you have some extra time you would like to use volunteering for a worthy cause, I must insist that you go visit these ladies at the Alz. Assoc. - don't worry, they'll welcome you with open arms and smiling faces.

As for my ride today, nothing especially exciting happened. I waited until early evening to ride so the heat wouldn't be quite as oppressive. I went an easy 20 miles up to my parents' house and back. For most of the ride I just thought. I thought about what I need to get done in the ensuing week, about the final exam I have in my music class tomorrow, about how nervous I am about student-teaching in the fall, and about how I'm not going to waste the rest of my summer if I can help it. And, with all that thinking distracting me, I was home and done with my ride before I knew it. I did, however, manage to shoot some video, while riding, of the beautiful countryside I get to behold on all these rides. It didn't seem right to keep it to myself, so I'm hoping I can put it together and post it here with this blog. (You'll have to ignore and forgive the shaking of the camera - believe it or not, it's hard to film and ride a bike at the same time.) I figure I should go ahead and try it now to see if I'll be able to do it for the actual RTR.

I'm looking forward to riding tomorrow. I'm going over to my cousin-in-law Dillon's place (yes, you read that correctly) so he can hopefully alleviate the crunchy, clicking sound my left pedal has been making lately. Then we're going to hit the pavement together and take over the world! Or at least ride a few miles. It's been awhile since I got to ride with a buddy.

Thanks for reading!

(The video didn't work, sorry... I'll try it again later.)

I don't wanna...

(Week 5, Day 1, Monday, July 5th)

I didn't ride today. I could have ridden. I should have ridden. But I didn't.

I can blame it on last night's complete lack of sleep, or prolonged soreness from Saturday's 60 mile venture; but, the reality is that I just didn't want to. I had absolutely no desire to do so. I fear that this nonstop training has begun to put me at odds with my genuine love for the sport. Once pleased and excited at the sight of my two-wheeled friend, I now look at it with a hint of disdain and sorrow.

I've read that once exercise becomes more of a chore than a pleasure (especially in cycling), it's probably safe to bet that you're overtraining or just overdoing it somehow.

I fear that I have reached that point.

My true love for cycling comes from speeding down hills and feeling like I'm flying. It comes from witnessing the sunrise, the sunset, and all the hours in between from a slower, less hectic point of view. I love getting to experience nature at its finest and having the opportunity to drink in the magnificence of God's handiwork. I also love waving to all the nice people sitting on their porches during the warm, lazy days of summer.

Now when you attach heart rate monitors, cyclocomputers, and time trial helmets to all of that, the quality of the ride, in my opinion, can diminish quickly and greatly. There is a time and necessity for all of the gadgets stated above, but I don't think I need them right now. I'm tempted to just throw out the training plan completely and simply ride for the sake of riding at whatever pace I desire. Otherwise, I may not end up enjoying the RTR as I wish, or the journey its taking to get to that point.

Perhaps this extra day of mental rest will allow me to see my bicycle in a better light tomorrow. After all, it's not the bike's fault.

(In other news - GO Team Radioshack!)

Independence

(Week 4, Day 5, Saturday, July 3rd)

What better way is there to celebrate our nation's independence (early) than by a grueling 60-mile ride?

Yes, yes, I'm sure there are many better ways. But not for me! I hit a new PR (personal record) today by riding 60 miles in 4 and a half hours. I was only on the bike for four hours - the other 30 minutes consisted of necessary rest stops where sunscreen was reapplied, Gatorade was chugged, and granola bars were destroyed by the gnashing of teeth. Good times.

If you've ever wondered what goes on inside my brain during a ride such as this, allow me to demonstrate a sampling of said stream of consciousness:

"Come on Heather, you can do it, you're halfway there... Come on legs, PUSH, PUSH!... I wonder if my face is sunburned?... 'If you're happy and you know it, ride your bike'... Only 20 more miles to go, Heather, you got this!... Oh my gosh, still 18 miles to go, I'm never going to make it... When I get home, I am going to collapse... no, first I'm going to eat a banana, then I'm going to collapse... Ew, I stink... HELLO CAR?!? Did you HAVE to pass me that closely??... Oh look, a squirrel!... God, please help. Thanks... I have to do this for THREE days in a row? I must be crazy... Owwwwww, my bum... Sigh, I made it. But I can't seem to move my legs..."

There you have it. This ride was tough, I must admit. I felt good for the first 30 miles and still felt alright for the following 15. But the last 15 just about killed me. For some reason, once I realize that I'm headed home and that the ride will soon be over, time stops. I try to remind myself that I'm almost done, and convince myself that I'm going to make it, but the last 10 to 15 miles are torturous nonetheless.

Regardless of how hard and long the ride was, there were some bright moments. I got to see a baby deer, whom I affectionately and ununiquely named Bambi. My presence obviously startled him and I rode along with him running beside me frantically trying to either jump the barbed wire fence by the side of the road or find a hole big enough for him to squeeze through. He was unsuccessful for so long, I finally prayed that God would give him an out so he could get away. Sure enough, after my short prayer, he found a large hole in the fence and bounded off through the field. To see a little deer bounding like that is truly a glorious sight. I was thankful just to have the experience.
Along those same lines, in the last mile or so of my ride when I felt like I was really just holding onto the bike for dear life, I noticed a beautiful yellow bird - perhaps a finch or a warbler - flying to my left a little ways, traveling at the same speed as me. It was a surreal type of moment that I can't really explain in words. It kind of felt like God saying, "I have you, Heather, keep going." I'll take that any day!

Okay, I'm done with this for now.

CHAMPS

(Week 4, Day 3, Wednesday, June 30th)

The Angels won the pennant!...wait...no... the Gamecocks won the CWS!!!

Once again, I did not ride early this morning, thanks to the a nail-biting 11-inning championship game in which the Gamecocks came out victorious. Sorry, Clemson fans. So sorry.

So, instead I rode this afternoon for about an hour and a half. I ended up going a little over 24 miles. And I went FAST. I do not know what got into me - perhaps the excitement of the previous evening's game - but I ended up with an average speed of 15.8 miles per hour. This is exciting to me because my usual average speed is closer to 14-14.5 mph. I felt really great throughout the whole ride and was actually surprised to see it end once I got home.

Now, if I can only achieve that same feeling in three weeks...

The Inside scoop

(Week 4, Day 2, Tuesday, June 29th)

I had to ride my bike inside today using my trainer, due to threatening thunder and lightning outside this afternoon due to having not ridden early this morning as I should have due to having stayed up late last night watching the Gamecocks win Game 1 of the CWS Championship. Normally I don't much enjoy riding inside - it can get boring quickly and you don't even get to go anywhere. However, it has its advantages...
For instance, there's no need to wear a helmet unless you really have no balance whatsoever and are prone to falling off of stationary bikes. There's also no need for sunscreen (even I can get away without it) or extra water bottles. It's easy to listen to music to keep you entertained, or even watch TV. And, most importantly, there are no cars around to try and run you over.

I used about 20 minutes of my one hour working on my rear derailleur trying to get all seven gears to work. I only succeeded in convincing five of them to cooperate, which is better than none. Once I finally gave up on that, I grabbed a book to read called Blue Highways. It's one of those books I was supposed to read in college for some random class that had nothing to do with my major. Of course, I didn't have enough time to read it when I was supposed to, but kept it in case the future-me had nothing better to do or to read one day and grabbed it. I guess that day was today. I had read some of it back in college - enough to make me want to hang onto it - but I didn't remember a bit of it. And so I began again...

The book began with the author stating, in so many words, that his life was a mess, he felt like a failure, and he just wanted a way to start over. His plan? To take his Ford van and drive across America using only the blue highways on the map. He wanted to experience the back roads, the boondocks, the off-the-beaten-path places and people America has to offer. The book's stories occurred in the 1980s, so it may be slightly outdated... but, then again, it really isn't. I only made it to page 26 during my simulation ride, so I can't yet tell you much about what happens.
As I was reading the book, though, I could understand where the author was coming from and why he was going, for lack of a better word, nowhere. Now, to draw a connection between Blue Highway's purposefully aimless wanderings and my efforts to support the cause for the Alzheimer's Association through a 3-day bike ride is a bit of stretch. However, one of mine and the author's purposes are similar - to get out of our comfort zone, to experience this great country (or at least part of it), to take the road less traveled. When it comes right down to it, I am getting a small chance of a lifetime. I get to hop on my bike and experience the state of SC on two wheels. And, to make things easier for me, I don't even have to worry about water stops, meals, or where I will sleep each night.

Isn't that a pleasant thought to chew on?

Simplicity

Week 3, Day 5 (June 26th)

"Do you have any idea where you're going?" a church sign asked me at the beginning of my ride today. "Nope, not a clue," I replied with a smile.

Yesterday I complained about not having a specific plan for my scheduled three and a half hour ride today. Well, today I still didn't have a plan, but I just took it with a grain of salt (or rather, several grains of salt as I sweated off most of my body's reservoir of water). I took my time waking up, took my time eating breakfast, and took my time getting ready. I think I finally got out of the door at 9:30.

I rediscovered today why I ever loved riding my bike in the first place. I just got up and went. The only boundary, the only goal I had for myself today was to go the full 210 minutes. It didn't matter where I went, how far I went, or how long it took me to get there. I was reminded of some random cartoon I saw awhile back where two kids' lemonades, or something, were accidentally replaced with beer and they inevitably got drunk. (No, I have no idea what cartoon it was or why I was watching it - one of those very random memories that got stuck in my head) While they were intoxicated, one of the kids said to his buddy, "Hey, you know... you know what we should do? We should... we should just get on our bikes... and go... just go." While I was not in the lest bit inebriated, that's kind of how I felt about my ride today - just get on the bike and go.
Don't ask me where I went because I really don't remember. If I saw an interesting road that I hadn't explored before, I took it. I was never lost, but I was never on a certain path either. Each turn was a spur-of-the-moment decision.
It's been awhile since I truly enjoyed a ride. I usually have some quota of miles to reach, some time constraint to heed, some worry at the back of my mind that steals my attention. But today I had none of that. Nowhere to be, no one to answer to, no deadline to meet. I once again admired the fields that rolled along beside me, chuckled at the cows' absent gazes towards me, waved at other cyclists, wondered at how birds fly, briefly visited the flea market, had the wherewithal to realize my sister was driving by and wave, and even answered a random phone call from Lacy. (I think her pocket must have missed hearing my voice.) I really didn't even notice how hot it was until about 12:15. And this absentminded lack of temperature gauging may be part of the reason my legs are now much pinker than they were when I started.

Now, don't let my euphoric description cause you to believe there was no pain or struggle involved. I actually accomplished a lot today, reaching a new cycling personal record of riding 50 miles in one day, in one trip. I got sunburned significantly, despite reapplying sunscreen during the ride. I also ran out of water and Gatorade with 30 minutes left to go. That would help to explain why I weighed four pounds less than I did at the beginning of the ride. Dehydration sucks. My legs are quite sore, and though I've eaten enough to equal two complete meals since my ride ended, my stomach is growling at me again. Guess I used up all my extra calories too.

Despite all that, I enjoyed myself thoroughly. God helped me through, as He always does, including keeping me from getting overly dehydrated. I'm still not yet sure how I'll be able to make it 70+ miles each day for the Ride to Remember, but I have another two and a half weeks to continue working on it. I will do my best, I will not stop until I'm finished, and I will do it for those who can't do it for themselves.

Thanks for reading.

raw

Week 3, Day 4 (June 25th)

Cycling is a raw sport. Sure, the professionals have super light bikes, aerodynamic helmets and clothing, and crazy-super protein/carbohydrate/sugar/kitchen-sink bars to make them go faster and farther; but, when you strip away all the special gadgets and widgets, it all comes down to simply you, the road, and whatever comes at you. It's all up to you and your legs to push and pull you down the road. There is no team for you to count on, no base or goal to run to, no ball to throw and catch. You sweat, you groan, you smile, you strain, and at the end you collapse. Pure survival.

And somehow, I love it.

With that said, I'm not riding today, haha... I went to Carowinds yesterday and hung out in the sun all day long, consequently exhausting myself. I do not regret the decision because I had a lot fun with my sister (plus her guy) and my good friend, Beth Sulkowski. However, Carowinds, along with a late-night nail-biter Gamecock baseball game (in true Gamecock fashion), did not encourage excitement about or willingness to attempt an early-morning two and a half hour bike ride today. As yesterday was supposed to be a rest day and I did anything but rest, today shall become my rest day instead.

I'm supposed to ride three and a half hours tomorrow and I have no idea where I'm going to go in order to achieve that. I like this training plan in that it concentrates on length of time ridden, rather than miles accomplished. And, honestly, minutes tick by much faster than miles on a bike. However, it's very difficult to gauge how many miles you may go in a certain amount of time, and what loop to take to get back home within that same amount of time. You (or, at least, I) can't just head out in one direction for over three hours, then call someone to come pick me up and take me back home when I'm done. I have to plan these things out, and this training plan, though effective, leaves little guidance for doing so.
I haven't checked how far it is yet, but I'm considering riding to the Boiling Springs/Inman area where family lives, then seeing if they will be kind enough to cart me back home.

Today marks three weeks til the ride... I'm excited and anxious all together. Prayers are welcome.

I VOTED

Week 3, Day 2 (June 22nd)

I rode my bike to R. D. Anderson today to vote! It was only about 6 miles away, and in so doing I was able to kill two birds with one stone (though I am not condoning animal cruelty). It is a wonderful, beautiful, sacred right and freedom to vote. It is also a wonderful right and freedom to cycle down the road, using your bike as your vehicle. I practiced both rights today and am proud of it!
I do not know how the poll workers felt when they saw me, though. I tried to clean myself up a bit before I went in, but it's difficult to mop up 30 minutes worth of sweat effectively without a Sham Wow or something. I got a lot of strange looks from fellow voters, and received a couple fire ant bites for good measure.

After it was all said and done, though, my ride was successful and my vote was successful.

Training Week 2, Day 4 (Friday, June 18th)

Today is my anniversary, so to celebrate I worked over 35 miles in two and a half hours. I even skipped my class for the occasion! I got started around 8:15 in the morning and it was still hot as band camp (that's as close to swearing as I dare come). I've noticed lately that after longer rides (2-3 hours), I lose about two pounds of water from start to finish. TWO POUNDS of water. No wonder dehydration is easy to come by. But don't worry, I'm guzzling water and Gatorade daily. Hourly even.
There wasn't anything particularly exciting about this ride, aside from the sweltering heat. When I finally finished, I was disappointed when I saw I had only gone 35.7 miles. I mean, when you're training for a 3-day ride that involves traveling 75 to 90 miles each day, 35 miles is not all that impressive. But then, a more logical, optimistic part of me pointed out that "Hey, you just rode 35 miles without dying! How many people do you know who can do that?" Hmmm... good point.
Maybe I don't completely suck after all.

Training Week 2, Day 3 (Wednesday, June 16th)

Where did the first half of June go? I awoke this morning barely able to move, thanks to the effects of P90X. My back aches, my shoulders ache, and my abs ache. And, to top things off, my nose is sniffly and my throat is scratchy. Great. Needless to say, I did not bother riding this morning. Instead, I fixed myself a delicious breakfast and baked some banana bread (with chocolate chips!). If you know me at all, you know I'm neither a cook or a baker. In fact, I'm barely a sandwich maker. But it turned out to be edible after all, so come and get some! :) Anyway, on to the ride...

WARNING! SOAP BOX:
There are many random things I have learned from riding my bike. For instance, 9 out of 10 drivers do not actually stop at stop signs (at least the drivers around here). This statistic is based on my own experience of sitting on my bike for a rest at a stop sign while counting the cars that rolled through the stop. Only one out of ten of them actually came to a complete stop. Fascinatingly dangerous. Another thing I have learned, or, more accurately, deduced, from cycling is that the majority of cycling/vehicle accidents are likely caused by impatience on the part of the driver.
With that said, I had a fairly close call today. I was coming upon an intersection and I could hear a vehicle approaching in my lane behind me, as well as see another car coming toward me in the opposite lane. Though I prayed he wouldn't, the truck behind me decided to pass me at the exact moment the car coming in the other direction was passing. I was riding on the white line, but the truck passed me so closely, I could have easily reached my hand out and put it in his open passenger window. As if that weren't scary, rude, and dangerous enough, the truck then proceeded to cut me off in order to turn right at the intersection directly in front of us. I had to put on my brakes so I wouldn't run into the back of the truck.
Now, that very impatient driver unnecessarily put my life in danger. If he or she had just waited about 15 seconds, I wouldn't have had to be scared and they wouldn't have nearly hit me. All it takes is a little bit of patience. I understand that cycling is a dangerous endeavor by default. I do my best to wear bright colors so I can be seen. I ride as close to the right as I dare, and I don't skimp on the use of hand signals to let drivers know where I'm going. All I ask for in return is some patience and general lack of stupidity.

SOAP BOX OVER

Aside from that, my ride went smoothly. I had the privilege of riding through a road full of cow and goat droppings. That sort of thing is especially nice on a hot, almost summer day.

It's hard to tell if I'm getting stronger, or better, or whatever it is I'm supposed to be getting. It's only week two, though, and only time will tell.

Training Week 2, Day 2 (Tuesday, June 15th)

Yes, I'm beginning this blog in the middle of my training because I didn't decide to write about it until now. But don't worry, you haven't missed much.

In fact, here's a quick recap: The first week of training went fairly well. It was very hot (it is June in SC after all), but I took it easy due to having just completed a sprint triathlon the previous weekend. So, I needed a week of rest, but I also needed to jump on training as there were only five and half weeks to do so once I started. Thus, I rode, but I rode easy, even skipping the required three hour ride on Saturday.

However, this week there is no slacking off! I must say, it was difficult to find or come up with some type of training plan that covers six weeks and allows me to improve my endurance level quickly. I settled for an eight week centurey (100 miles) training plan and shortened it to six weeks. It's intense and requires riding six days out of the week. Fortunately, all I have going on right now is one summer class at lunch time each day, which allows me ample time to ride. And, to make things more difficult for me (or rather, more challenging), I've added P90x to the mix so as not to lose my upper body and core strength by riding my bike all the time. (If you don't know what P90x is, you probably shouldn't worry about it. It's painful to even think about...)
Today I had a test in my class, so I decided to forgo my morning bike ride in favor of studying. So, I rode later in the evening instead. I waited until about 5:00 to ride, after the temperature had dropped a little. I went an easy fourteen miles in one hour, cruising for most of the ride. I found a hill on Chicken Foot Creek Road (yes, that's really the name of it) that allows me to get up to forty miles an hour on the descent if I'm in a tucked position on the drop bars. Forty miles an hour on a bicycle is very scary and very exciting! I have no idea how those guys in the Tour de France go that fast (and faster) on featherweight bikes without crashing all the time. I guess that's why I'm not in the Tour de France...

Good ride, not too hot, felt nice to relax and enjoy the scenery. I wish everyone could enjoy a ride through the countryside around my residence. It is so peaceful, so humbling, so revitalizing! If you don't have a bike, go get one and take yourself for a ride! It's totally worth the chance to get away from life for awhile, not to mention the obvious health benefits of exercise.

That is all of my ramblings for today.
Thanks for reading!

A Ride to Remember

Hello, my name is Heather Elliott and yes, I'm crazy enough to try riding over 250 miles in only three days.

To be honest, I first wanted to do this ride because of the incredible challenge it offered. If I complete it, it will become my greatest cycling accomplishment thus far. I want to push myself and see if I am physically and mentally capable of the task. I want to be able to say I did it. I figure that maybe, just maybe, if I can accomplish this then the Assault on Mt. Mitchell could be in my future.
Then, as I have been about trying to raise money for the Alzheimer's Association to support my ride, I have been both humbled and heartbroken by the stories of some who have been more than happy to support research to end the disease that took the life of their brother or sister, or that now plagues their mother, father, or best friend. Stories of once happy, loving uncles who one day suddenly couldn't remember their newphews' names. Stories of mothers who can no longer do anything on their own, as they have forgotten even simple motor skills. A colleague of mine told me tearfully that she was planning on giving money toward my ride, but she and her family were sadly waiting for her grandmother to pass away as a result of Alzheimer's. They knew the time was fast approaching and they wanted to wait and give in her memory. She died two weeks ago, and though I never met her, I will gladly ride in her memory.

I am still attracted by the thrill of the challenge; but, now I have a clearer purpose for this ride. Alzheimer's is a terrible disease for which there is no cure and very limited effective treatment. I am riding because more needs to be done, and because I am physically capable (I think). If you would like to follow the random thoughts and experiences of my training for this ride, continue to follow this blog as it pleases you.

Thanks for listening.