Last year sometime as I sat plotting my comeback to the land of triathlons, or anything physical for that matter, I choose just 3 events. I decided that one had to benefit cancer research in someway, shape or form. I choose Onionman Triathlon (Olympic distance), Troika (half Ironman distance) and the biggie Seattle's Livestrong Century ride or Challenge as they bill it.
Leading up to the LS ride I was able to get in a handful of training rides. With a couple 3, 4, and 5 hour rides under my belt I felt relatively comfortable with the endeavor before me. Mistake number one, while most people train a bit more for these types of adventures, I still tend to go with the minimalist approach, why don't I ever learn? While I was viewing this ride as a training ride, I would be lying if I wasn't secretly holding myself responsible for going FASTER then any of my previous IM 112 mile rides. Mistake number two, this was a Century RIDE not a Century RACE, apparently there is a big-big difference. So with a goal, my husband, girls, and old blue I made it to Seattle on Saturday, the day before D-Day. My week leading up to LS was full of travel for work and lack of rest but will not and cannot blame any part of this for what is to come...(I blame Mother F!@#$ Nature who is one mean and petty b---ch).
The forecast for Seattle "ride" morning called for partly cloudy skies with a slight chance of rain. Really a slight chance of rain? This is Seattle and I am to buy this load of crap? Yup I did. After all it sounded so perfect, not too hot, not too cold, a win win in my book. Just to be safe I decided to wear my half pants, arm warmers and my wind breaker bike gear. Oh, can't forget the sunglasses, so I wore those too. I left the hotel room around 5:45 to make it the 15 blocks to the starting line.
See it doesn't look so bad, does it?
After hearing all the little pep talks, and accounts they sounded the gun (I think) all I heard was in 3 - 2 - 1 Go!
We headed through downtown Seattle, feeling our legs out, and each other, getting into our grove. Here is where you could separated the die hards, with the leisurely riders. I fell in the the first group, albeit barely, and only because I had to be done, showered and on the road back home by 5 p.m. no time to for leisure.
Around mile 10 we started to feel the light pitter patter of drizzle, nothing serious or concerning, in fact is was a little nice. The morning temp was perfect for riding and even went a little on the "getting warm" side. Damn it I jinxed myself. At this point I found a pretty good group of riders to hang on too, so I was feeling pretty good. WHAM! Bump = bye bye areo bottle. What? Crap. Stop. Pick Up areo bottle. Refasten areo bottle. Begin again. Now I found another group of riders, still feeling pretty good but wishing I had still been with the first group, because well they were further ahead. Oh well. Shift gears to go uphill. Chink Chink. Crap. Chain came off. Stop. Fix chain. Find a shrub to wipe the excess grease from my hands off with. Begin again.
At this point what was once the pitter patter of drizzle, became a holy mother hold on for dear life and find a boat soon, rain. What the...? I am still thinking it's OK it's only rain how long can this last? Really, I had that thought, stupid huh? Again I remind myself that this is Seattle and what else should I have expected?
Along the course there were signs indicating that we were on the right path and to keep going. Well apparently the second group of riders I was tagging along with all had the same idea and forgot to include the straggler who attached herself to their caravan in on the idea. So at mile 20 Power stop the whole train pulled off, so I followed. Then I found out that they all wanted a pit stop! Well knowing that I have a deadline to meet (and warm shower) I asked the rider at the end if I wanted to keep going do I continue on straight ahead? His response "Yes". Idiot.
So I continued on...and on...and on...and on...5 miles later I thought, "Where are all the riders at?". Well yup you guessed it, I was going the wrong way. So with my navigational tail tucked between my legs I turned around and again now 10 miles later I am back with the LS riders.
I am one for a challenge, but the cards are starting to stack against me, lost equipment (aero bottle), mechanical issues (chain came off), inept navigation (got lost), and now a torrential downpour. Ya I would say this is a challenge.
Having all the challenges pretty much taken care of in the first 50 miles of the ride, I am thinking that it really can't get worse and to enjoy the ride and the reason for it. I kept telling myself that even though I wanted to quit at this point that I had the opportunity TO keep going, not to get too deep here, but I began thinking of those that have lost their battle to cancer and how hard the battle was fought, and how they may have wanted to quit so many times but held out until the battle was ultimately lost. Dad, I kept riding for you.
Gurgle..gurgle...gurgle...Hunger started setting in, and I reached for some of my food, only to find out that my hands no longer operated. I couldn't grip my gears, wipe my nose, or scratch my butt if I wanted to. The feeling was gone in both hands and I still had 35 more miles to go. I did stop at a Power stop at mile 65 where they had food ready for you to inhale. I ate as if I was new to the concept of eating. Imagine holding two sticks in your hands and trying to pickup food with those sticks. Well that is what I looked like. The medical folks started cutting up the space blankets and tucking the pieces in my bike jersey. Body started shaking (it was oh so cold now), but 2 PB&J sandwiches later I was off.
This was my last attempt to take a picture. While this was at mile 40 or 50 the picture was to be of the group of riders I was with, however upon not being able to feel my fingers you end up getting a blurry picture of my bento box (I think).
So another 65 miles later and I arrived to the very beautiful downtown Seattle. Now I say beautiful because I realized that in just a few short miles I can officially say that I completed the LS Seattle Century Ride. All that was left was to make it to the Space Needle, past the bums napping under the bridge, past the drivers who didn't really care that you were on a bike and that they could crush you, past all of my doubts and troubles along the way. Any illusions I had prior to this ride were shattered, bagged and thrown away. While I still had to stop at every intersection with a red light, uphill, to make it there (Lance you need to work on that), I never once lost sight of the big picture. Ya I was miserable, but I am the lucky one.
Would I do one of these rides every single day of my life to have my Dad back, hell ya no question.
Thanks for reading, supporting and donating.
LIVESTRONG.
