Just a Pipe Dream

Ah, a warm morning with a glorious mountain view and a dry road…what could be better for a bike ride? How about a heavy downpour, slick roads, and being mercilessly honked at by cars? Yes, that is better. Why, you ask? Because although the sun and beautiful scenery make for a nice bike ride, it doesn’t necessarily impart a memory and series of stories that change your life. Last Sunday I rode 20 miles in the Chairman’s Ride – a lesser known ride that precedes the first stage of the Tour of California. People (mostly men over 40 I might add) from across the state, nay nation, gathered together early Sunday morning (some as early as 5:00 a.m.) to eat and be shuttled off to their starting destination. TrekTravel hosted the event, including providing food, shuttles, SAG wagons, VIP passes (to watch the pros come in) and chaperones. I was one of a few women who joined the group, having barely trained and feeling extremely intimated by the number of lean men apparently itching to get up those mountains.

I will start with the fact that my husband is a big liar. After looking at the ride map, he decided that my climb was similar to riding to the top of Beal’s Point. For those of you in the Folsom, CA area, you will know it’s a pretty good climb for a beginner (me). So out I went doing hill repeats pushing about 9-10 MPH going uphill and 23 MPH going down. Alas, my well-intentioned husband was WRONG. My ride on Sunday was probably 10 times the height of Beal’s Point. My beautiful, orange Felt bicycle with its dual crank in front was little match for Sunday’s mountain. I had to stand the entire climb, hovering around 4.5 MPH during the longest and highest climb of the day. How my legs didn’t give out I honestly can’t say. God must have had His hand on my back that day pushing me upward. My legs felt strong, really strong. No burning or aches at all during the day's climbs. My lungs, however, were a different story. I actually had to stop – I mean completely stop – at the top of the first mountain peak. My heart rate was 180 and I needed to rest for about 60 seconds for it to come back down to 165 so that I could churn those cranks over again. That was the only time I needed to stop during the day. There were two other stops to help people with their flat tires, but that had nothing to do with my lungs, legs or endurance.

I wish I was a talented enough writer to describe the excitement that gritty, muddy road water gave me. Or the sense of pride I felt when I crested another hill, rain splattering my face. Or the thrill of taking sharp turns on the descent, the road slick with rain (actually that was a little scary – I’m sure my mother would have had a coronary if she had seen the twisty turns during the descent). Or, after all that rain and climbing, how I still had the energy and legs to sprint up to some of the “men” – who, by the way, totally tried to drop me – and ride across the finish line. It was…amazing. That’s all I can say. It was really and truly amazing.

Oh, I neglected to mention that I rode most of the distance with Troy. He was with TrekTravel and stayed with me (poor Troy) during my slow climbs and raced with me on the downhill (well, as much as you could “race” with a wet road and sharp turns). I was so happy to have met him and thrilled that he stayed with me the entire ride. Unlike running courses on race day, there weren’t any signs marking the way. I would surely have gotten lost without Troy.

I don’t have one, single complaint about the entire day. TrekTravel provided warm showers at the Hyatt in Santa Rosa after we finished (I could have stayed in there for hours), food, bottled water and then VIP passes to watch the “real” riders come in later that day. It was an extraordinary afternoon. The only thing I would change is breakfast. Maybe cereal, or toast or even pancakes... some carbs to get me through the day. Eggs and fruit (yummy fruit) just wasn’t going to cut it. Oh, and even more importantly, I wish they would have had a photographer along the route. For many, this may have been easy, but for me the feat was life-altering. I feel so much more confident now. I’m ready to tackle my next race event. I would have loved to have had someone in the SAG wagons carrying a camera to snap shots of us riding through the rain and coming across the finish line. Anything, really, just to prove that I did it. For all you know, it could have been just one of my a pipe dreams.