RTR 2013 Day 1

If I could sum up today's ride in one word, it would be MONSTER (said in a low, gravelly voice)!

Or maybe BEAST (same voice).

I'm kind of torn.

In either case, today was a record breaking day for me in a beastly monster sort of way. I finished 68 miles in only 4 hours, averaging nearly 17 miles an hour. I felt like a hulk-like monster the whole way, destroying measly miles in my wake, somehow drawing strength from the intense heat.

The day started early. Too early. 5:30 in fact. I'm at least lucky I didn't ignore the alarm and lie in bed stubbornly (which is what I usually do). I got up and stumbled over a million unseen objects on my way out the door. I'm surprised my husband didn't sit straight up in bed from all the noise I made. It was very obvious that my brain was much more awake than the rest of my body as it quickly started going over my pre-ride checklist. Meanwhile, my feet struggled to proceed forward one at a time.

I began my checklist by going outside in the dark and clumsily putting my bike rack on the trunk of my car, all the while thinking that I should have put it on the previous day during more wakeful daylight hours. Once I finally got it secured, too much valuable time had passed. Using my brain had awakened my senses enough to realize I needed to get a move-on. So, I hurriedly threw my helmet, shoes, gloves, sunglasses, bookbag, and luggage in the back seat (because of course I hadn't thought to put it in the trunk BEFORE I put the bike rack on). I rushed to the bathroom to take what I thought was a quick shower. It turned out being too long and put me behind schedule even more. When I got finished, it was 6:28 am. As I was gathering together the last of my things (toothbrush, hairbrush, shoes, etc.), my husband, Frac, shuffled in the bed and mumbled “I thought you were leaving at 6:30?”

“Yeah... I'm running behind,” I grumbled.

Since it would be extremely unwise to skip breakfast the day of a 67 mile ride, I let my cinnamon-raisin bagel toast while I put my bike on the rack and threw the rest of my stuff in the car. I slathered peanut butter on my bagel, grabbed a Starbucks coffee out of the fridge, kissed my husband goodbye, and ran out the door. I was supposed to be at my sister's-in-law at 6:45, but arrived about 10 minutes late. Oh well.

You're probably wondering why I bothered going out of my way to Marcia's house when I was already running behind. Well... I wanted my hair braided. That's all. My helmet fits much more securely when my hair is braided, and Marcia has been kind enough to wake up early to do that for me the past two years. (Thanks, Marcia!) We chatted about the ride while she braided my hair and, as usual, she encouraged me and cheered my spirits the whole time. Once she finished, I quickly gave her a hug and again ran out the door.

I finally began the journey to Simpsonville where the ride was to start. But wait, first I had to fill up the gas tank. Ashton (the one in charge of this wonderfully crazy endeavor) was going to be driving my car the next three days and I didn't want her to have to worry about stopping for gas. Okay, so now the tank has been filled and I am more officially on my way.

Once I arrived in Simpsonville, I quickly noticed the FOX News van as well as a Channel 4 vehicle parked near the start. “Great! Finally some good press!” I thought to myself. Wanting to avoid the craziness that was already beginning to build at the start line, I parked my car in a side lot. I grabbed the last of my RTR donations and walked to the check-in tent, saying hello to Ashton on the way. I checked in and took my goody bag back to the car. There I applied sunscreen, downed the rest of my coffee and grabbed all my luggage to carry over to the start, leaving my bike and my car in the same place. I looked for Beth as I walked over the second time, but she found me first.

(Background: Beth is a dear friend of mine and my old college roommate who works for the Alzheimer's Association. She helps staff the RTR while I'm out riding it.)

She was excited and bubbly and frankly, I was not. I don't know if it was the big crowd, the fact that the caffeine hadn't kicked in it yet, or that I still wasn't fully awake, but I was definitely not bubbly. I was in one of my rare solemn, quiet moods when I didn't much feel like talking to anyone. On the inside I was excited, but nothing I said or did betrayed that emotion outwardly.

The rest of the pre-ride activities went by quickly – I stood in line forever to use the bathroom, I spoke to my mom on the phone while in said line, Beth moved my car a little closer, I grabbed my bike and my stuff, gave Beth a hug, and then we were off. I was glad to finally get started. I hate having to stand around with stored-up nervous energy. I began towards the back of the crowd because I knew the front would be moving too fast for me. We had a Simpsonville police escort for the first 30 minutes to help us navigate through the many stoplights safely. Then we turned right and were on our own. I stayed within the stream of riders up to that point, then got separated from most everyone. For a moment I thought “Why do I always seem to end up alone??” But really that was okay with me today since I wasn't in the mood to talk anyway. I eventually breezed past the first rest stop (I didn't need it), passing small groups of cyclists along the way. I was already moving at a pretty steady clip, glad to be getting miles under my belt quickly as the air was becoming unmercifully humid. I was already drenched with sweat only an hour into the ride.

Eventually I caught up with a cyclist by the name of Darby Wilcox whom I had previously met by chance at the Spartanburg Great Escape when buying tubes the weekend before. I slowed down a bit and reintroduced myself. We pedaled and chatted together for awhile. At some point (maybe around mile 22) I mentioned that I was hungry and looking forward to the second stop (especially since I had skipped the first one). She then offered me an energy gel I had never heard of called “Ginsting” that had a picture of a honey bee on the front. It was an energy gel that had the flavor and consistency of honey, but was packed with extra caffeine and simple carbs. It was the best gel I have ever tasted! Most of them taste suspiciously like medicine or vitamins (in my experience); but this one actually tasted just like honey, so it wasn't difficult to force down. Around the time I was sucking down caffeinated honey, Ashton and Beth caught up with us and Beth took this picture.

Eventually Darby and I made it to the second stop at mile 27. She quickly guzzled some water, refilled her bottles and went on her way. I took a little more time at the stop. I refilled my water bottles with cold liquid, devoured some Fig Newtons and grabbed an extra one for the road, sprayed sunscreen on my face and arms, then updated my Facebook status as to where I currently was, so my family wouldn't worry about me.

It was close to 10:30 am at this point and the sun already felt like it was directly on top of us. The humidity must have been around 1,000% because I had sweat dripping down my face, arms, back, and legs, and my jersey was heavy with water and salt. For a moment, just a moment, I started to bemoan my circumstances. I began considering how miserable the next forty miles could potentially be in this furnace of a state, and I started yearning for the cool lobby of the hotel. I could sense the negative thoughts slowly beginning to creep in at the corners of my mind.

Then suddenly, like some kind of caffeine ninja, the Ginsting kicked in and my pity party was utterly destroyed by some sort of motivational monster. It punched the negative thoughts in the face, knocking them out one by one, then growled at me to get going. I wasn't about to disobey this unseen energy, so I got back on my bike and went.

And I went FAST!

My leg muscles became machines, powering my legs like alternating pistons – up and down, up and down. I rode alone the rest of the way, pushing my legs harder with each passing mile. I caught back up with Darby again eventually and kept right on trucking. I only stopped at every other rest stop because my legs were on a roll and I didn't want to stop them. I did take a little bit of time off the bike at the lunch stop near mile forty-something. I didn't actually eat lunch though because I knew my stomach wasn't up for such an endeavor. Instead I grabbed some watermelon and drank Gatorade. I also thought it might be wise to reapply sunscreen. Again. Beth was there at the stop so I asked her to clean off my sunglasses. While she did that, I pressed my helmet up against my forehead to wring out the sweat that had accumulated in its padding. Beth watched me with interest then asked “Is that water?” assuming I had dumped a water bottle on my head to cool off. I chuckled and said “No... that's sweat.”

“THAT'S sweat??”

“Sweat. All of it.”

If I had collected all the sweat that poured out of my helmet, it probably would have easily been 6 fluid ounces. Like I said, it was humid.

The last bit of the ride went faster than the beginning. My legs were starting to ache a little, my butt was starting to ache a lot, and the heat kept getting hotter. Every time I started to dwell on one of these things or a hill threatened to get my spirits down, I yelled out loud and just pushed myself harder.

I'm serious. I yelled out loud.

The only real hang up I had on the last stretch was a text from Beth telling me that the engine light had come on in my car. Since there was really nothing I could do about it while on my bike, I responded by pushing even harder. (Don't worry, the engine light scare turned out to be nothing.) I also experienced a brief five minute period where I was seeing hazy shades of the color purple everywhere. It made me think of a book I read called Ultra Marathon Man written by the famous runner, Dean Karnazes. In it he recounted an extreme run that he did up a mountain that lasted for nearly 24 hours. During that run he lost his eyesight for a short time due to dehydration and exhaustion. (There was a much more scientific word for it that I can't remember) That made me worry a little, so I quickly drank about half a bottle's worth of water and the purples went away. After that I was much more conscientious about gulping water every few minutes.

I stopped at the very last rest stop just to give my legs a quick chance to have some blood flow back through them. There I savored a huge wedge of watermelon that was bigger than my hand. Never had I tasted a fruit so delicious! The juices ran down my hand and arm, making me sticky, and the cool temperature of it made my sensitive teeth ache as I bit into it; but it was totally worth it. If it hadn't been so sticky, I probably would have pressed it up against my forehead just to cool me down. I thanked the kind ladies at the stop for helping to keep us going, and they assured me that there were only 8 miles to go to the hotel. So, I started off again, eager to get the day over with. About one mile down the road from the last stop there was a message painted on the road that said “The end is near.” I laughed out loud and said “It better be!” That wasn't actually the first message on the ride. All along the route there had been random, encouraging messages painted on the road that said things like “Go Bikers,” “You got this” and other witty sayings that I can't remember. It was fun to come across them as we rode, but my favorite one on the first day by far was the “The end is near!” (I told Beth about them later and she found out that it was actually Ashton's mom and her entourage who painted the messages as they went out before the pack of riders putting up directional signs. Thanks, Mrs. Ashton's Mom!)

I ended up getting to the hotel around 12:50, which is my best RTR time ever for the first day. The first year that I participated, it took me five and half hours to complete Day 1. This year it took four hours and 20 minutes. What?!? Three years older and over an hour faster! I call that improvement!

Once I got inside the hotel, I found Beth to confirm that our room wasn't ready yet (it never is). I changed out of my cycling kit into some much more comfortable and much less sweaty running shorts and t-shirt, making me feel almost human again. I grabbed some lunch and a Coca-Cola and sat down to feast with Beth. For the first time ever doing RTR, my legs didn't feel completely wasted or even overly sore. In fact, if it hadn't been for the heat, I probably could have ridden even further. (But seriously, there was no reason to tempt fate.)

I spent the remainder of the afternoon lounging around giving my legs a break and starting on this blog. I felt almost normal, not even over-worrying the next day's challenge. The group went to Van Matthew's house on Lake Murray for supper that evening, per tradition. It was a wonderfully care-free evening where we feasted on a catered dinner, lounged on the lawn with the constant breeze keeping us cool, watched Randall Simmons sink in the hammock (sorry, Randall, it was funny!), swam/floated in the lake, listened to a live band entertain us (with Darby appearing as a guest singer), and got to know some of the riders a little better. It was the perfect ending to a hard day on the road.

But that was just Day 1...