So - life changes often and unexpectedly. My life has gone through a huge change in the past year and a half. I'm now a divorced, single mom. Does that define me? NO. However, where I am in my life now looks much different than it did pre-divorce. Hence, the blog and what you're about to read. Above anything, though, I'm doing this for myself. So - if you read once and never again, I'm okay with that. After all, I'm the one who has to live with myself at the end of the day.
Ready? Here we go...(oh, and I'm long winded - so you're in for a ride).
I've never been an active person. I was very content to just go through life without any form of exercise. But - I'm hitting mid-30s and I'm finding myself wanting something more. I just finished my MBA last May - and once I moved out on my own last June, I had a lot of time to fill on days/nights when I don't have my precious 9 year old, Maggie Sue. What's a girl to do? Sure, I love beer. (And when I say LOVE, I mean LOVE). But, drinking all of the time? It's not conducive to my body appearance OR my wallet. I needed something different.
I started running. Last August. For the first time in my life. Running is hard y'all. It's especially hard when you've never done it. I successfully completed quite a few 5k's since August. (Here's the proof).
Running was great. I've dropped about 40 pounds since starting last August. Really the best shape physically I've been in. BUT - I've broken my foot twice in two years. Once pre-running and once while running. My nice doctor firmly told me that I needed to stop putting that kind of pressure on my foot and knees because the spot in my foot where I've broken the bones (same place both times) is never going to heal the way I want it to - and was at risk for being broken again by running.
Um - WHAT?!? No more running? But, the freedom that comes with running...how do I get that? The runner's high - what happens when I can't get that feeling? What about my love for being around other people at events and the feeling of accomplishing something that has such a personal reward and satisfaction?
Enter the past month.
I have a couple of friends who are cyclists. And, when I say they are cyclists - I mean HARD CORE. Nice, expensive bikes, regular riding schedules, cut calves. It seemed legit. I cautiously started asking questions. That may have been my first mistake. When Sara starts asking questions and develops an interest in something, WATCH OUT. I'm a sponge. I want to know everything - immediately. And guess what? It seemed interesting. Something that might take the place of running - both from a physical and a mental standpoint. I called my doctor - yes, it's a much safer alternative to running and won't put the unnecessary pressure on my foot. SIGN ME UP.
First problem - no bike. No problem, I have a friend who said I could borrow his son's bike for a couple of trial rides to be sure I wanted to start this cycling adventure. An 11 year olds bike. And it fit me. I'm so short. It looked similar to this Felt.
April 27th, 2013. First ride ever.
http://www.strava.com/activities/50982098
I wasn't good - I wasn't fast. I didn't crash. And, HOLY UNDERCARRIAGE!!! But you know what? I LOVED IT. Immediately. Hard. This was something I could get used to. I even let my coach talk me into signing up for our company's sponsored ride in North Carolina for the Tour de Cure in May. 47 miles. WHAT? Am I nuts? I just did 12. How would I ever get to 47? Okay - baby steps. One ride at a time.
April 30th, 2013. Second ride ever. First experience with headwind. This ride was painful. 15 miles - and a lot of it was spent going very slowly as I learned to fight wind. My coach went ahead of me because he's a badass. And I learned that I'm going to spend a lot of time alone with myself. Talk about humbling. Who's going to push me? Just ME. I'm the engine to this machine. And undercarriage? OMG. Thank goodness for D'z Nuts Bliss for women.
Commence two week break. That wasn't easy. I didn't really have a bike to ride and I needed to get one. The North Carolina ride would have a rented bike for me - but that wasn't going to help me now. Enter my dad. He helped me get my first bike. A Ridley Yana. At a great deal. With awesome components. But, SHOCKER to my wallet!!! (And not just the bike - everything that goes with it...shorts, jerseys, pedals, helmet, lube, gloves, etc.). This is not a cheap sport people! But, with many things in life, if you want to make an investment, you have to put up or shut up. Look where your time goes. Where your money goes. Where your heart goes. If you love it, you find a way to make it happen.
During that two week break what did I do? Started reading and watching cycling. SPONGEY SARA. Anything I could get my hands. How obsessed did I become? I cancelled all premium movie channels so that I could carry BeIn Sport - the channel that carries the Giro D'Italia. I set up recording for the entire series. I would rush home from work each night to start watching. Bradley Wiggins for Team Sky? HELLO, Sir Bradley. One day during that two weeks, this is what my mailbox contained:
I used the time to read, ask questions of my cycling friends and watch some amazing racing on TV. Obsessed is really an understatement. I was losing sleep because I couldn't get enough. I also signed up for the MS150 in September if that tells you how much I wanted this cycling "thing" to happen.
So, the week before my trip to North Carolina, look what came in the mail?! And I would have to let her SIT BY HERSELF while I was out of town for a week? UGH. That was TORTURE!
LOOK HOW BEAUTIFUL SHE IS! I was absolutely giddy when the UPS man showed up with this box. My dad put her together and put her in a safe space for my return.
May 13th, 2013 - Travel to North Carolina for work.
May 14th, 2013 - I did 20 miles on the hotel bike. Sweat my ass off, really. I knew I had to not cycle for the rest of the week in order to let my body prep for the upcoming Tour de Cure that Saturday. But, it felt good to log some miles. I just guessed I would be as ready as I was going to be.
May 17th, 2013 - the day before the Tour de Cure. My coworker and friend, Shannon, and I went to pick up our rented bikes from the cycle shop in Raleigh/Durham. We also had a little fun teasing our other coworker about getting our bikes!
The Cannondale bike was beautiful. And the nice guys at the shop put on toe clips for me (I'd never ridden with those before) so that I could try them out on the ride.
We all went to dinner that night - pasta to carb load - and went back to the hotel to go to bed early so that we'd be rested for the next morning. I had a hard time falling asleep. Adrenaline? Nerves? Excitement? Yep. All of it.
May 18th, 2013 - Tour de Cure day! It's go time.
We got to the start line before 7 a.m. all prepped and ready to go. Here's our fearless team. We look GOOD, right?!?
Here we are taking off. Holy crap! I'm about to attempt 47 miles!
Enter 5 miles into the race. We are all humming around and I'm practicing some drafting and shifting with another one of my teammates - and we're all riding with ease and a little bit of speed. Ever since I started riding, the anticipation of my first crash on a bike has been a fear. More than the fear of getting hurt. And guess what? Here it came. It was an accident. But, it happened. I got tangled up with another one of the team riders and there we went. My first thought? F*CK. Second thought? I'm gonna be THAT girl. The one that dies on her first ride. My third thought? My coworkers CERVELO bike! (I didn't really care about my bike because it was rented). But his bike? He shipped it from KC to ride. And who wouldn't have? It's beautiful. I drool every time I see it. All of those thoughts happened in a mere matter of seconds. And then I hit the pavement. Hard.
Get up, Sara. You aren't dead. Crap - who saw that crash? What do I look like? Where is my bike? Where is his bike? Is he dead? Is anything broken? Where's the SAG wagon? Holy shit, is that blood? Why does my arm look like that? Oh, my knee! GET UP. Get off the road before a car runs you over. I wanted to cry. 5 miles in and this happens? I flew all this way to crash and be done? HELL NO. I'm not quitting. Let the blood run over. I'm going to make this ride my BITCH.
We rode to the 11 mile stop. I had the volunteers look me over. A band-aid wasn't going to stick because I was sweaty. There wasn't a lot of blood but there was enough. My poor coworker had to stop. He couldn't grip his gears. Urgent Care was calling. I was devastated. I felt terribly guilty. Off he went. Here we are right after we stopped:
I'm sure he wasn't thrilled about getting his picture taken. I have to capture everything. I'm crazy like that.
I decided to move forward: blood, pain, fear, shame and all. I didn't know how long I would last but 11 miles wasn't going to be enough at this point. I rode on with the other 4. Then one rider got a flat and had to go back - so another stayed with her and I went forward to the next stop with my other teammate. We'd meet up at the 20 mile stop.
That 9 miles was good for me. I rode with my teammate Paul and did a bit of drafting and fell in love with the smells and the sights of being on the open road on a bike. I know I yelled at least once, "I'M ON A BIKE!!!!!!"
20 mile stop - drank some pickle juice (for the salt) and wiped down my cuts again. I was getting really stiff in my knee and my arm was killing me. Stop? NO. Not an option. My teammates said they were going to turn around and finish with me. Nope. Absolutely not. I'm not going to hold you guys back from doing what you came here to do. You go on ahead. I'm going to get to the 23.5 mile mark (halfway to the 47 mile course) and turn around to make my way back. We got a couple of pics before they set off and I was on my own for the rest of the ride.
So here I was. 20 miles into the ride. All alone. This was really put up or shut up time. I'm hurting. I'm worried about falling again. I'm worried about my teammate who is at Urgent Care. I've never troubleshooted a bike before. What if I get a flat? How do I change it? What if I fall off the side of the road and no one finds me and I'm there for years and turn into ground food? Only one way to find out: GET ON AND RIDE.
I'm a spiritual person. And you know where I found spirituality on this day? On my bike. I was humbled before God and myself on this ride. There isn't anyone who is going to make this ride happen for you but YOU. After all, I was doing this ride not only to raise money and awareness for the American Diabetes Association - but to prove to my stubborn self that I could finish something that I started. No matter the cost, no matter the pain, no matter the elements. So, I said "SHUT UP LEGS" (Jens Voigt, anyone?) and went on. I got emotional at about mile 37. I started to cry. I hurt. I was in pain from the crash. I was alone. I felt like a whiny baby. And I also felt free and strong. That voice in my head telling myself that the only thing that was going to get me to the finish line was my legs and my bike. POWER ON.
Last 3 miles of the race felt like an eternity. There was a pretty big hill that I had to overcome which took a lot out of me. But I made it to the top. And then I had a downhill crest that felt like magic. Holy speed could I go fast! I started to see the signs directing me back towards the start/finish. Wait? Was this it? Was I almost done? The clouds were moving in - rain was just about to start. Pedal faster. Get there. Make it happen. I turned in the parking lot and saw the finish. Rain drizzle started. People were there…clapping. Pedal. Pedal. Pedal. Breathe. You're there. You did it. You're done.
Holy emotional mess, you crazy cyclist. You did it. Let those tears fall. Tears of joy - for accomplishing more miles than you've ever attempted. Tears of pain - you are pretty messed up and hurting. Tears of - well, you don't know where those tears are coming from - but they're allowed. Just cry. Get it all out. This is overwhelming. Wait, there's Chik-Fil-A for finishing? HELL YES. Give me all of the sandwiches. Now. (Except I couldn't hardly eat a thing because my adrenaline was full speed).
I DID IT! WOW! 47 miles on a bike! Did I want it to end differently? Sure. I wish we could've all finished. And finished together. But you know what? I think that last 27 miles of being on my own was one of the best life experiences I've ever had. Plus, I would've been ashamed having someone see me break down a couple of times emotionally. Nope, it ended just the way it was supposed to.
Here are the pics of my injuries:
I call them my Battle Wounds. I'm a warrior. Okay, not really…but it does sound nice. And I earned those wounds. It's a reminder to me that life isn't easy and it's messy. But doing what you love isn't easy and can be messy. Time to HTFU and move on. (Rule #5 for those of you who know what I'm talking about). If you don't know - well, you can read it here:
Was it easy? Nope. One of the hardest things I've ever done. Am I finished? HELL NO.
I'm only just beginning.
So - wanna take a ride with me? I promise to try and not crash you. Or - you can just read on as I experience this new thing in my life. I'm the CrazeeCyclist. And I've got a lot of miles to ride.
Loved reading this Sarah. What great encouragement!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much! That means a lot to me!
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