BEST RIDE IN THE HISTORY OF EVER!

you know how you have a ride that’s the absolute best?  the one that you talk about later when trading “EPIC STORIES!”

THIS WAS ONE OF THOSE RIDES!

picture it… last night… i got there 45-min early.  i was so nervous… i didn’t know what to do with myself… and i couldn’t control the urge to just stay home.  i figured, better get the heck out of the house before i ended up in pajamas at 5-pm instead of a kit for 6-pm.

BOOM!  i’m on the lot… hanging out with my $900 aluminum bike that weighs about 25-lbs (#iamspecialized)  😉 … carrying a questionably fixed front derailleur… still 10-lbs up from winter fat packing… looking ridiculously puffy in lycra… trying to remember what i ate last night and through the day.  (hint:  not enough calories)

quarter of the hour, a beamer slips into a space two down from mine and a short guy with quads that don’t quite look right in suit pants hops out the driver’s door.  a few more similar looking guys show up.  i notice NONE of them have arms.  their gloves are held on by teeny tiny fingers at the ends of itty bitty lengths of straw-thin arms.  i’m like…

seriously.  one of my thighs easily weighed more than most of these guys, total.  even soaking wet and sharing the scale with a dozen bricks, i out-weighed them.

i sauntered over to the group and asked, “is this such and such club?”  the guys all greet me.  they’re really welcoming.  none of them sneer or makes mean comments about my bike or my kit or me.  (this is an experience i endured with the last club.  i accepted it, believing this was just the way cyclists were.  apparently not.)  i notice, most of them are riding s-works with wheels that weigh 0.0000001-ounce each.  one of the guys asks, “do you ride much?”  i tell him, “almost 6,000-miles last year, but i’ve only been out a dozen times since january.”  i share that most of this season’s miles are trainer-based.  i add, half-joking “looking at your bikes… i’m guessing it was smart to bring a cue sheet.”

this is when…

ready?

this is when… the leader of the group mentions they’re the racing division.  i was like… “ohhhhhh… so… that’s why you’re all wearing jerseys with sponsors….”  one of the guys pipes in that a not-yet-present member of the group was recently at “nationals.”  i didn’t understand the importance of this, but they were all pretty stoked, so i assumed it was really important.

once the group was assembled, the leader then tells me, “we’re going to lead you out about 2 or 3-miles.  then, we’re going to ride like normal.  alright?”  i agree… and… we’re off!!!

for those first miles… they did a 20-mph pace.  i held on for 4.4-miles.  a full 1.4-miles past the point where they thought i’d hold on, and at the base of the first “mountain.”  as they hit the rise, they didn’t break pace… and it was INCREDIBLE to watch them in unison… two-by-two… tight… elbow-to-elbow!!!  it didn’t look like they broke pace.  it was AMAZING!!!  FREAKING AMAZING!!!

by the top, i was on my own.  breathless… i worked the cue sheep out of a jersey pocket… turned on gps… sent a location pin to supportive spouse… and carried on.  i was on cloud nine.  THAT WAS THE FIRST TIME I WAS DROPPED!!!  and, WHAT AN AMAZING GROUP TO BE DROPPED BY!  😀  talk about hitting the jackpot for firsts.  just WOW!!!  😀

well, i rode as hard as i could, tried to maintain 20-mph on flats as long as i could.  then… with dread… i saw the town sign… “intercourse, pa.”  dang it.  i was at least 6-mi off the cue.  this meant, 12-miles total off-course.  i must have had a pretty good spin going to completely miss the gps directions AND not to realize what happened for such a long time.  talk about “meditation.”  🙂  sun’s setting… time check… i pulled a head light and a tail light out of a jersey pocket… strapped them… set them to flash… and kept on.

there were so… many… bugs… so… so… many… and every one that flew in my mouth… tasted like… fresh… chemical-laden… manure.  *gags*

whatever.  it was still the most INCREDIBLE!  AMAZING!  BEAUTIFUL getting lost in the history of EVER!

this crossed in front of me while i was checking gps.  talk about GREAT TIMING!!!  😀

of course, so… so… many bridges… with those freaky long-ways boards.  there were some tense few moments… hoping no tire sunk in a crack… and shredded.

BUT OMG!!!  😀  😀  😀

okay… for real.  when i realized it was getting to be 8-pm, that i was out for 2-hours on a ride that was supposed to be all of an hour, i started getting a little wiggy.  i sent more location pins to supportive spouse.  you know… so someone could find my bike and take it to safety in case i died on the road. 

GUESS WHAT?!?!  i make it back to the lot… and… WHO’S ALL THERE???  THE GROUP!!!  the leader had time to pick up a dozen beers… and greeted me with one.  the rest welcomed me back and congratulated me for finishing!!!  (yes, that’s a plastic ring behind my chain.  obviously none of the guys on this ride… with their s-works bikes had “discs.”  don’t judge!)  😉

i can’t believe they waited!  i was way too dehydrated to even dare drink it.  (i took one water bottle when i saw the rest of them had one bottle each.  and, on a 90′ day… still 87′ at ride time and into sunset, i could have used about 4 bottles of water.)  i dribbled some beer on my front tire… took a “quick zip” and thanked all of them for waiting.  they told me to come back out any thursday.  i’m dying with the happy and the joy.  🙂

Looking forward to June

today’s 40-mi ride with the “old guys” and “hill killer kathleen” started at 9.  i happened to be in bed at 9.  obviously, i missed the ride.  thank goodness, there’s a 6-pm ride going out with the “new club.”  while only 26-mi, it’s classed “training” and the posted “goal speed” is +20-mph.  i’ve never finished a ride with that kind of average… ever.  i’m going anyway.  if i get dropped, i’ll have gps and consider it an experience.

supportive spouse was home yesterday.  while i was out riding, the dog peed a trail of blood across the house.  so, supportive spouse cleaned up the mess and made a vet appointment.  8-pm.  we didn’t get home until almost 11-pm.  addison’s “trauma” and a kidney infection.  so, we re-upped his cortisol injection a week early, got some pred, and agreed to a 2-week antibiotic injection for the infection.

by the time we settled in for the night, it was after midnight.  with an alarm set for 5-am, all my cycling stuff set out, and the will to ride, the body didn’t follow.

here’s to my first “training ride” this evening!

TRAINING RIDE!  SIX HOUR COUNTDOWN!!!

Mapping, Failure, and Breakfast

between some human and dog health things here, riding’s not been a priority.  (i can’t believe i just wrote that.)  after what seemed 1,923,495-days of rain, the first jag of nice days came with out-of-our-hands downers.

to salvage some sunshiny stretches, i ganked a “dirty dozen” event for a nearby town and broke it into a half-dozen little rides that eventually build up to the full ride:  originally 48-mi with just under 6,000-ft climbing.  then i drove the entire route.

oh…

my…

gawd…

INSANITY!

it’s especially insane because for april and may, i’ve done 1/4 the miles of last season.  my legs aren’t quite there yet.

to the good stuff…

this morning, the “new club” held it’s weekly “breakfast ride” and i went out for it. the pace was “recovery,” and there was an hour breakfast stop in the middle.  talk about relaxed!

funny thing about that breakfast stop…

there wasn’t much talking on the ride out or back, but there was plenty of talking on the break.  to my relief and surprise, not one person “interviewed” me.  when anyone struck up conversation, it was even exchange!  better?  i learned their opinions of the club i just quit.  “aggressive” and “mean.”  “perverted” and “power-oriented.”  that’s the summation.

here’s the big part… the part that has me still kind of  feeling… 

digression:  over the last 2-years, i heard a lot of questionable conversation from the men in the last group.  from disgust at weight their wives gained after menopause to lack of sexual satisfaction and bitching about how women fake ailments to get out of “giving it up.”  some of the guys in the last group had agreements with their wives; they could get “some” elsewhere as long as their wives didn’t find out, and as long as their behavior didn’t embarrass the family.

on at least two rides, “bridgestone tom” and “art the dart” held conversations that ended in agreement:  that when daughters or granddaughter hit pre-puberty it’s time to stop all physical contact.  no hugging.  no kissing.  no patting on backs or shoulders.  no hand holding.  no sitting next to one another (even at family dinners).  no going into their bedrooms, for any reason whatsoever.  daughters and granddaughters at pre-puberty and into adulthood were a “NO ZONE.”  both said, and agreed, it’s okay to be physical with boys into manhood.  in both conversations, “bridgestone” sighed with relief that he had two boys.  and, he lamented that his eldest granddaughter was in the “NO ZONE” since the age of 10.  “art the dart” lamented that he had a daughter, and went on to lament 2 granddaughters.  each time, i talked to supportive spouse, assuming “bridgestone tom” and “art the dart” were just generationally handicapped.  that being men in their 60s, their odd thoughts were throwbacks to “times i couldn’t understand.”

on today’s ride, at the stop, i marveled as 3 men in their 60s talked lovingly about their daughters and granddaughters, describing pride for their families and excitement to participate in kid activities.  one grandfather with a 13-yo granddaughter laughed about “grandfather duty” in which he was “dance class chauffer” and responsible for his granddaughter’s dance team’s makeup cases.  how thrilled he was to be part of the practice, and how amused he felt to get “face painting” instruction from the girls.  another man laughed about how his daughter hated for him to give her hugs in public when she was a teen, how she used to push him away and “throw elbows” at him.  now, he says he laughs as her daughters push her away the same, but how they let him give them hugs, even seeking out “grandpa” for attention and affection.  the third guy, with two daughters and a brand new granddaughter talked about how his life is so much better because of the “girls.”  he says he way more aware of what women can do, and hates hearing how women “belong” in one place or another that cuts away at potential.

can you imagine where my jaw was while i listened?

this jaw thing happens quite a bit with this club of late.

i piped in and asked, “what do y’all think of a man who says that daughters and granddaughters are a NO ZONE at puberty.  no more hugging… no kissing… no pats on the back… no hand holding… no close sitting… no entering bedrooms…”

the first man shot back, “what kind of a pervert do you have to be?”

the second man shot back, “that’s my DNA.  those are my babies.  there is no NO ZONE because i’m not a creep.”

the final man raised his eyebrows, “why do you ask?”

i hemmed and hawed about hearing two men about their age and the opinion that girls should be “cast off” at puberty.  that i thought maybe it was a generational thing or a sign of their times.

“well, that’s the perfect way to F* with a girl’s head, isn’t it?  show ’em love until they develop and then… nothing.  like they’re suddenly bad or disgusting.”  one said.

“yeah, way to send ’em looking for a ‘daddy’ to date.  reject them when they’re most fragile?  you’re not a father if you do that to your daughter.”  another said.

“i’m with you.  that’s got asshole and pervert written all of it.”  the last one added.

i don’t want to be one of those people who looks back on something that’s “no more” and  dismantles it, vilifying even innocent things in “sour grapes” destructive moves.  however, i will say, hindsight is 20/20, and… i’m starting to feel like… what i agreed with or accepted as “normal” wasn’t necessarily “healthy.”  for the sake of the ride, i really shouldn’t have kept my mouth shut as much as i did.  i should have called asshole and bullshit when merited.

Fit Recovery’s “The Cycling Rules I Live By”

Fit Recovery

I have several rules, irrespective of the greater Velominati Rules, that I live by.  I’ve been thinking about this post for quite a while and think I’ve got it fairly nailed down, though I’m certain additions will be necessary.

These are not rules meant for you to follow, if you read the title carefully…  Did you notice that “I” in there?   I am simply offering them so others may digest them as they see fit.

In no particular order:

1.  Ride in a manner that puts a smile on my face.  I don’t care how anyone else thinks one should ride, or what style of bike should be ridden.  I ride hard, fast and on pavement on a ridiculously expensive and lightweight bicycle.  That’s what makes me smile.

2.  A clean, lubed bike is a quiet, fast bike.  I keep my bikes clean and sharp because they…

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Bridgestone RB-1

it’s hard to pretend that i’m not hurt by lack of miles or loss of habit.  BUT!  i recognize… i’m not out of the game, despite my “sour grapes” attitude and behavior of late.

it wasn’t until i looked at the clock a few minutes ago, reading “12:38,” that i realized… i’ve been online, looking at Bridgestone RB-1 sale ads since about 9:30.  THREE HOURS that i could have been and should have been RIDING, spent searching for a “unicorn” bicycle.

when one of these comes up in a 53…

i’ll be on it.  well… i’ll be on it if the thing doesn’t look like it’s been ridden or thrown off the top floor of a skyscraper.  a lot of them are in pristine shape, mind you.  others… i’ve wondered if the owner felt hatred or a personal vendetta against bicycles for the way they’re kept.

if i could truly pick my next bike… it would be…

the ultegra-8, in yellow.  throw on some white, black, or yellow speedplay, and i’d worship that for a few hot minutes.

there’s an entry-level bridgestone in my “stable.”  my dad bought it for me in 1984… maybe ’95, but i’ve wanted an RB-1 for years.  not sure what sparked the want, or even how or why i came to know about RB-1.  someday…

someday….

Three Good Things

not to dwell, but rather to consider the good…

last year i rode so much with “bridgestone tom” that i became dependent on him.  i think most of my almost 6,000-miles were partnered with him.  so, while i’ve lamented the loss of “bridgestone,” and while i’ve lamented the lack of miles this spring, it’s possible to find some celebration.  i mean… i actually came really dang close to 6,000-miles!  and, because of our regular rides, i developed evening and morning routines.  a good thing?  because of last year, i know i can handle as many miles per season, and… i already have the imprint of a schedule.

last year i forced myself to keep acquaintance with someone who was toxic.  riding with this person regularly, and traveling with her too, i came to know a great deal about her… but more about myself.  i don’t think i’ll as easily fall prey to another “cluster-b.”  also, i have quite a bit of mental and emotional “work” to do before truly moving forward.  but, the good thing?  because of my experiences with the cluster-b, i realize i’m stronger than i thought, and… my own story matters.

finally… i questioned myself a lot during the last three weeks.  i questioned my motive to ride.  i questioned my tedious love-hate relationship with the cycling club.  i questioned the walking away.  i questioned my relationships with “bridgestone tom” and “buster’s mom,” with “art the dart” and “regulation torie,” with “scorpion susie” and the rest if the people in the group.

whatever happens in the coming weeks or months… i know these things:  cycling is my bliss.  i might not feel like i have my “mojo,” but i know being on the bike has always left me feeling happiness and joy.  i know… what to look for in a new group, and i know to speak up if i see things that i don’t like.  being part of a group, no matter how established, means having a say.  and, if the next group doesn’t make space for all members to speak up, then that’s not the group for me.  i know that life is short… so it’s not my responsibility to “make things work” for anyone or anything other than my spouse, my family, or long-term friends with whom i’ve shared lifetimes.  as for the people i met in over the last two years, i appreciate them.  i feel grateful for the time i had with them, and i feel richer for knowing them, even the ones i didn’t much like and only tolerated.

the good thing?  (as if all that wasn’t enough)  i’m not deterred.  even feeling like i’m a little old… as in, much too old… for these experiences and for such “lessons,” i’m no deterred.

 

Miles and Miles to Go…

and not a break in sight.  rain.  forecast through the weekend.  almost 10-straight days of overcast skies and rain.  some thunderstorms.  mostly just wet.

three positive things:

1 – my vermont challenge buddy decided that we shouldn’t wait any longer to book a room.  while registration felt “real,” having a hotel confirmation in hand makes it more real.  paying to participate, i know it’s possible to transfer said event reservation up until just weeks before the challenge.  technically, until yesterday, i could have given away my spot to anyone wanting and willing.  booking the room… having the hotel confirmation… well… this comes with a “no backing out” feeling.

my VC buddy asked if i’d like to stay at the same place i booked last year, when i traveled with “scorpion susie.”  i was brief, but honest.  i told my VC buddy that the place was beautiful.  the main house was absolutely incredible and the grounds were gorgeous.  i told her that, on one hand, i’d like the chance to go back and have a proper do-over, to replace last year’s experience in my head.  but, i told her that being there might also notably leave me feeling anxious and upset, and that i don’t want to ride on that kind of mind.  i’m going to pitch that the two of us go to last year’s hotel for dinner one night, so i can reframe the memory of that place, assuming this year’s event experience is loads better.

2 – our 13-year-old runt-born jack russell “puppy” was diagnosed with leukemia last summer.  my decision for his care was:  no treatment, but make him comfortable.  at his latest checkup, the vet marveled that none of his blood work looks different, and he seems the same as he was when diagnosed.  after some extensive physical testing (xrays, ultrasound, blah, blah, blah, etc), it was recommended that he have the chemical test for addison’s.  allegedly, addison’s can show elevated leukocytes, which can be mistaken for the onset of leukemia.  if he has addison’s… it’ll be a relief.  i’m kind of elated to hear of this “lesser” potential diagnosis.  i love our “furbaby,” all 12-pounds of the smelly furniture claiming yapper.

3 – the original group with which i started cycling will begin this week’s ride at a start just 0.25-miles down the street from the house.  i received email notice.  with any fortune, the forecast 10-day jag of rain will abate long enough for the group to ride, and for me to join them.  even if it rains and the ride’s cancelled, it was nice to receive that notice and feel “part of something” bigger than myself.  i love that feeling.  🙂  being one of many.

Season Opener: The Solo Version

the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

today’s forecast?  rain.

ride status?  nil.

though, i did map a climbing route… which i planned to do three times.  clothing was set out.  coffeemaker was prepped.  water bottle was filled.  bloks were at the ready.  mental fortitude was shaky, but not opposed.

someone pointed out that my map is reminiscent of either a poorly forged gun or a very sickly shaped penis.  *side-eyes supportive spouse… who is pretending not to notice said side-eye…*

i’m recalling the trainer and queuing netflix just for leg movement.  *flashes more side-eye at supportive spouse… who continues to pretend not to notice said side-eye…*

 

in other “juicy” news that is *none* of my business and about which i should give *zero* f*cks:  one month into the new season and tales tell there was in-fighting on a club ride yesterday, ending with a ride leader quitting.

 

Three Weeks: Part 5, Down the West Side with Wheels!

(note… in a previous post, “Three Weeks: Part 4…,” i miscounted my “sites to see” list items, and find there were eighteen, not twelve.)

just 3-hours to get the bike rental back to the shop, i focused, and it was good.

quickly…

BOOM!  wall of death…

CHECK OUT THAT BIKE LANE on the left!  and, all those poor slobs in cars.  serious.  seattle has their sh*t together for cyclists.  using these and the cheshiahud loop, the “race” was on…

gas works park and kite hill…

freemont troll under the bridge…

freemontstalin.freemontrocket.freemontsaturn… *breathes* centeroftheuniversesign.waitingfortheinterurban.latefortheinterurban *breathes*

annnnnnd… bridgetenderrapinzelinwaiting…

then… BOOM!  rush-freakin’-hour… *insert sad face* 😦

but, all was well, as SEATTLE has BIKE LANES!

so, i hopped the one that ran along lake union…

boogeying back to the bike shop, i had less than an hour to skate before the bike was late.  on the wire, with 5-minutes to spare, i jammed the front wheel through the shop door and made it with time to pat the shop dog on the head, settle the bill, and walk back to the hotel in time for dinner at 6:30.

in terms of clock watching, if that’s not sliding into home base with a WOOHOO and some brush burn, i don’t know what is.

of course, we went back out for river sushi…

i’ll spare you a shot of my spent plates.  noteworthy as it was.

places missed:

official bad art museum of art… 

flower shop elephant… 

accordion museum (don’t judge)… 

wallingford wildlife totem pole…  

motel where kurt cobain shot heroin (again, don’t judge)… 

BF day tile mural… 

for kitsch, the plan was to pick up ridiculous gifts for friends back home at archie mcphee and grab something sugar-laden at molly moo ice cream for energy in the last leg, but my sense of “meh” and time-keeping kicked in, so these two personal just-for-so stops were aborted, too.  next time… next time.

brewing… back… home…

Three Weeks: Part 4, Up the West Side with Wheels!

i really needed road time.  i’m cranky without miles, which is my m.o. being off the bike more than a few days (one reason winter is such a burden).  so, this was the day i headed out to rent from a bike shop.

supportive spouse and i went our separate ways, and i set out to walk the mile from our hotel to the shop.  GPS took me to the market and through post alley (gum alley), along “alaskan way” with a view of the bay, so it was actually quite nice.

stumbling along the cobbles of post alley, i happened on a family-owned craft brewery WITH AN ISETTA!  seriously, if you could have seen my face… oy!  it must have been a cross between utter surprise and absolute awe.  never before have i the pleasure of seeing one “in person.”  the business wasn’t open, but i popped my head in one of their garage bays and called out to anyone in earshot.  a woman came to answer, and she let me walk around inside, snapping pictures like the weirdo tourist i was… utterly in bliss to find this as a first “thing of the day.”  AN ISETTA!!!

a little farther down the alley, a seemingly random art installation, “seattle garden” by anne sperry (1988).

someone left a mug of cereal on the wall of the installation, and we did check it out… for kicks.  i call the above picture “death and cereal in the garden.”  *chortle*

one more from the walk…

once at the shop, the thought of renting a “mandatory” helmet struck me worse than renting bowling shoes, but the thought of having wheels outweighed my gag reflex.  also, the shop keeper introduced “death” to his shop dog (which was adorable) even if the doll was slightly abused…

FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S HOLY!  seattle’s hills reminded me of pittsburgh, and the bike lanes were SO BEAUTIFUL!  the first push off the curb felt heaven kissed.  and, yes… that’s dramatic, but so so so true.

first stop was the jimi hendrix statue on broadway, followed by volunteer park, black sun sculpture, seattle asian art museum, and the volunteer park conservatory…

THEN!!!

lakeview cemetery!  while not immediately interested in denise levertov’s grave, it was the first i crossed at lakeview cemetery in pursuit of bruce and brandon lee.  when i found the martial arts legend and movie star son, it fulfilled a “bucket list” item from as far back as 1982.  if i’d have died then and there… my life might have been complete.

back on the bike… with the “spite house” up next, i happened down a neighborhood street and “the wishing tree!”  a woman named jane, with a 100+ year-old tree in her front yard, strung the wishes and words of gratitude of passersby!  to me, it was a really neat physical form of “hope and happiness.”  the display was so lighthearted and felt so positive; i sure did leave my own wish with some words of gratitude.  “death” was in on the action, too.  it was a great find right after the bucket list visit “with” bruce and brandon.

the “spite house” was the result of a nasty divorce in the 1920s.  the judge gave the wife the front yard of the couple’s shared property, and perhaps this was to get the two negotiating such that it would lead to talking, which might lead to reconciliation.  who knows.  instead… the wife kept her property and built a house on it, 5′ wide in the back and 10′ wide in the front.  (over dinner, recounting our day, i told supportive spouse… i’d do exactly as the wife did, then got no end of side-eye accusing me of being a “crazy person.”)  🙂  better solution is that we never ever get divorced.  🙂

by the time i made it to the “spite house,” i was beat, without cycling shorts and wearing a sweat-instigating backpack.  not a complaint… just a comment.  i’d still rather have had that day on the bike than anything else.

the tour continues… ad nauseam…

up the west side of the county… over montlake bride at the water “crossroads” of lakes union and washington, just outside the university of washington campus, which… i did take time to visit.  i mean… bruce lee was a philosophy student there back in the 60s.  how could i not?  🙂

blah, blah, blah… yadda… etc… warren magnuson park, the fin project, the NOAA, and “sound garden.”  now, these were tedious for me, not because they weren’t interesting but because i was starving.  making it to the farthest point on my “ride map,” i’d not fueled enough for so many hours out, nor was i carrying enough calories to satisfy the ride back.  still, in hindsight, i’m glad to have ignored the nagging voice in my head that cajoled me into turning around and bailing on these final two points.  that nasty voice… such a quitter.

the fin project is an art installation using the diving plane fins of decomissioned planes, arranged to simulate dorsal fins of whale pods and salmon.  it’s a big deal because magnason park was the former US navy base at sand park, and the art honors the men and women who lived and worked there.

“sound garden,” was perhaps the best stop of the day.  on federal land, wind filters through the steel towers and “sings.”  the time i spent there, it was fortunate the wind was high and the towers made sounds that reminded me of whale calls.

at almost 2:30, i’d been out and about the city and county for approximately 5 1/2 hours.  as the shop closed at 6-pm, and the bike was due back for check in by then, i took off for the return… still with about a dozen stops to cover!

*insert silent move old-time music…*  will she make it, one wonders???