55 Miles to Watson's Mill

I have only recently realized that I lost my mojo in the desert.

I lost my faith in me.

I lost my desire to be stronger - more capable - in Canyonlands National Park on a four day, fully supported, bike tour 2 years ago. 

Nothing went right from the moment I got off the bus to ride bikes.

My rental bike didn’t fit well. My childhood asthma had returned with a vengeance and I was just beginning to figure out how to manage it again. I was deep in the trenches of undiagnosed peri-menopause - hot as fuck / both inside and out.. and on top of all of that I had altitude sickness. 

The whole ride was miserable in some way (aside from the company).

I had worked hard to be ready to do that ride. Months of weight lifting and mountain bike riding. Pushing myself harder than I ever had to be ready for the trip of a lifetime. It didn’t seem like it was going to be so hard. Elevation gain seemed doable. Daily ride length was totally manageable.. Turned out that It was so hard - in every.single.way.

Afterwards, I felt defeated. I felt weak. There was a lot to unpack - emotionally and physically.  I haven’t ridden my bike in the same way since - until recently.

I was inspired by my oldest niece who has changed her entire life and in that she has lost 100 pounds. She has always been beautiful but now she feels beautiful and it shows.  She said, “it isn’t about the weight loss.  It’s about how I feel.  What I am teaching my kids.”  SHE is taking care of herself and rewriting her script.  

She reignited a spark in me.  I too could do hard things and overcome barriers. I just wasn’t trying. I realized in talking to her that it was time to get back to work at creating the life I want. I needed to wake up - get my health back under control and get back to real adventuring.  It was time, once again, to stop being so comfortable being complacent and complicit in not striving towards a goal.

Examining what happened and when it happened is usually a bit messy. Noting how afraid of failure I am, I knew there was big growth for me to embark on. To properly adventure I had to figure out how to develop some new habits.  I also have to get more comfortable with the concept of Failing Forward not just in my head, but also in my heart.

With the help of sticky note that said, “Get up. Don’t be lame.” I am now getting up earlier.  I have to move the sticky note to turn off my alarm.  Getting up earlier is not something I have been willing to do in the past due to old stories I have about not being a ‘morning person’. I’m not and I don’t have to be to start my day a little earlier. My fear has been that I lose time on the other end of the day. Late evening when all I’m doing is staring at the glowing screen of the television.  So, not really time lost. Turns out 6 weeks later I actually do not need to go to bed any earlier to get up a little earlier. And I have more energy.  Who knew?

I have an exercise schedule and a plan.  I have recommitted to bringing my best to the bike most days as long as it’s fun.. that is still my biggest priority. Here is the thing about my commitment to it being fun, there are rides I want to accomplish. There is fun I want to have. There are adventures I want to be able to go on. There are stories I want to be able to tell. Like anything in life I have to work at it. I have to show up and practice and get better. Be Stronger. And, I have to test myself along the way, going beyond what is comfortable and easy.  Sometimes I have to fail so hard it knocks the wind right out of my sails and I want to give up.  I also have to have the discipline to get back on the horse and find something I didn’t know I had within.

On August 17th Jason and I rode our bikes 55 miles in the August heat.

We left our house at 7:30am and made it back home around 2:00pm. It was raining for the first twenty miles. I really love riding in the rain in the summer even though it is terrible for my bike. It is pretty magical. Leaving out I felt strong. At mile 20 we had made it to Watson’s Mill where we enjoyed a snack by the water.  We watched the sun emerge from behind the clouds to a bluesky day. The next 10 miles to the store stop in the little town of Sandy Cross were beautiful rolling false flats.

By mile 40 I was feeling worn out. The fun was over. I was working hard to keep my cranks turning. The sun was beating down on us and the head wind we had been riding into for the last 10 miles was wearing on my last nerve. I was questioning what I was doing - for the umpteenth million time that day.

At mile 42 I had to stop and stretch and breathe and complain. At mile 43 on a climb I remembered what I was there to do. I was there to ride 55 miles - no matter how slow. I re-committed to finishing this ride

From this point on I was digging deep to keep pedaling my bike. I was finding points to make it to - all I had to do was reach that sign or that mailbox and then I could decide what to do next. I was finding wins from previous experiences. I was asking myself what does it mean if I quit? What are the consequences? Oh that wall gets me everytime.

At mile 48 we had to stop under a pecan so I could catch my breath again and try to eat a nasty hot Gu gel that had sodium, amino acids, and caffeine. I needed all of that to get those last 7 miles. I wasn’t very nice to Jason who didn’t seem to be suffering at all - which made me mad - not his fault. He kindly reminded me this ride was my idea. It usually is. I have since apologized. He is forever gracious.

At mile 52 we had to stop again. I was having a  spasm in my back - it isn’t the first time this has happened.. I needed to lay down one more time to finish those last three miles. Laying on a park bench just three miles from home I stretched out. I knew I was going to finish. Three miles was nothing compared to the 52 miles we had behind us.

Turning into our street I did what I try to always do.  I sprinted to the finish with the absolute last vestiges of energy I had.  Our friend, Don, says “You have to have those finishing legs.”

My ride was slow compared to many of my friends that ride 55 miles once a week and some even more miles. My inclination is to want to compare myself to them.  To see myself less than because it is comfortable to me to not be enough.  Not “do enough”.  Not be hard or strong enough. But in my moments of self doubt I am also trying to remind myself that we are all tackling many of the same demons out there and that’s what really matters.  We are all working towards being better.

I met my goal of finishing a 55 mile ride. I also accomplished staying at an average speed higher than I set out to do and much of that pace was into a headwind.  It makes me wonder what it would have been if I had drafted on Jason’s wheel more or if the headwind had not held us for 20 miles.  It’s all still very fresh.  I’m working on recovering and processing.

I’m not sure when I will try another long ride like this.. I don’t think it will be too long. Certainly not 2 years.  Hopefully it will be cooler outside.

For now, I am going to continue to focus on getting up early. I am going to keep riding my bike, training, and having fun - most days.