Thursday, June 9, 2011

100 Miler......Will my crotch ever be the same?

As much as it looks like I am 'making love' to my bike, I am actually stretching out those legs before I sit my ass down on that rock hard seat for the next 6.5 hours, and pedal till I just can't pedal no mo'!

It was a beautiful day for a bike ride.  After Noah being in the hospital for 4 days, it was nice to be back outside, enjoying the fresh air, and knowing my little guy was going to be fine. 
I thought a lot about what he has been through, as I always do, but on this ride, I especially did.
Noah always motivates me to live life to its fullest. 
This was my second 100 mile bike ride of the year, and I still have 1 left to go in 3 weeks. 
I am feeling really behind in my marathon training,
but I hope to god the torture I do put my body through will benefit my running as well. 

Things went so kick ass during this ride.  I felt strong and confident.  I even had a fellow cyclist tell me she was trying to catch up with me for almost 5 miles because she wanted to tell me I had the most amazing calves ever.  Who me?  I have never been told anything like that before.  I did my best to accept the compliment, because my natural reaction to ANY compliment I get, is to knock it.  It made me reflect on the progress I have made in my physical life, and the kind words of that total stranger made me feel like a rock star.  Don't ask to see my calves.  I am sure they were all bulked up from pedaling, and they are most likely back to their normal looking selves. 

The worst time I had during this ride was miles 70-77.  I was somewhere in Idaho, and I swear to god it took me 2 hours.  My body was breaking down.  I was tired.  I needed to empty my bladder and stretch my legs, but I had no idea when the next rest stop was.  This was when I hit the wall, and had to talk myself through it.  I heard a lady yell, 'Your doing great, keep it up!" as she passed me.  All I could think was, "Really?  If I am doing so God Damn great, then why are you passing me?"  Another few miles past, and all I could see was a big ass hill on the horizon.  I started crying.  My body was stressed, my mind was fucked, and I was done.  I stopped looking up.  I looked down at my legs, focused on my breathing, and changed gears as I needed, without taking so much as a glance up at the hill.  I climbed that bad boy before I knew it, and my reward at the end was an outhouse and some Gatorade.  I got off my bike, stretched, pissed and drank.  Before I knew it, I had my ass back on that seat, and kept saying, 'I'm coming home' over and over in my head.  I felt good, I had renewed energy....something I thought for sure was gone miles ago.  I knew that I only had 23 miles left until I could claim the victory of kicking this bike ride right in the pie hole.  As I circled the route back, and saw so many ladies headed in the direction I had just came from, and, I really felt proud of myself.  I could have gotten off my bike when I was tired.  But I didn't.  I kept pedaling even when it felt like hell.  I am not going to give up.  I have come way to fucking far in my journey to ever think that I will be anything BUT amazing from this point forward.  Those last miles flew by like nothing, and the reward at the end was my daughter, who graduated from High School this week and is off to college in a few months.  I hugged her and cried, and thanked her for being there for me.  I needed to have her there at the finish line.  To know that even though she is getting older, and starting her own journey in life, she will always be the Grand Prize at the end for not giving up, even when things are tough.