Late Thursday afternoon, a coworker told me about a bike ride going on Saturday morning for the Wounded Warrior Project. He had 8 spots left on his team and I wouldn't have to do any fundraising. Sign me up!
There were 25 and 55 mile options. Uh, on a mountain bike and haven't ridden religiously in years, check mark next to the 25-mile box, thank you very much!
Seriously, I can count on one hand (actually, 3 fingers) the number of times my ride mileage has been in the double digits this year, and never above 20. There's my measly 1.5 mile bike commute to work everyday...but that's hardly worth mentioning. I wasn't worried about my aerobic endurance over the course of a 25-mile bike ride, but rather how long my seat (not the bike's seat) would hold up. Legitimate concern, right?
But it seemed like a great way to honor Veteran's Day and explore south San Antonio. So I woke up Saturday morning, ate me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (kind of on a PB&J kick right now...), loaded my bike in the back of my car, and drove south.
There was a bit of a skirmish on the way down as Garmin kept insisting I exit left when there was not (and never had been and never soon would be) a left exit. But that was resolved a few miles later when he recalculated and realized the error of his ways. Good boy!
The ride was great. It was my first organized bike ride since the Kool-Aid Classic Bicycle Tour of Kool-Aid days past (2005 or 2006 maybe?) and I forgot how much I love them. All shapes and sizes of bikes (have you ever seen an ElliptiGo?? I hadn't...). Streamers and flags and pictures draped from handle bars. Bike jerseys in ever color and logo imaginable. And the bike shorts. Oh the padded bike shorts! What interesting things they do to the thighs and buttocks! Especially worn underneath a tutu (seriously...saw that more than once).
But of course I was proudly sporting my own thickest pair! Definitely more worried about the state of my nether regions than the shape of my bum right then.
The wounded warriors participating in the ride led us off underneath a huge American flag suspended between two firetrucks. It was kind of an emotional moment. I was in great position for a photo but I felt like I should be clapping for them instead of snapping pictures. And so I clapped and felt very grateful for their sacrifice and the sacrifices of every veteran.
And I snapped this shot later.
The actual ride was scenic and quite enjoyable. I felt like I was riding through Nebraska. There were even cows and smells of manure wafting through the air! And wind. Naturally. A strong headwind for a good portion of the route. That was fun. But it gave me the opportunity to sing out loud to my music without anyone hearing!
At one point I passed a guy and he turned to me and asked "Do you know if this is the 25 or 55 mile route?"
"I'm sure hoping it's the 25-mile route!" I replied.
I was pretty sure but there was a critical turn at one of the SAG stations. 25-milers turn right, 55-milers turn left. I turned right, right? Now this man had be doubting!
I pedaled along at a comfortable pace all the while really hoping it was the 25-mile route and wondering if the lack of feeling in my left foot was a bad sign. My bum was going really numb. And the rest of my lower extremities were following suit.
After mile 15 the end couldn't come soon enough!
I honestly wasn't trying to bike fast and finish first. It wasn't a race after all, just a recreational ride. But as I pulled into the finish, I realized I was one of the very first done, if not the first female. That was a little awkward. First, there were tons of people cheering, and I hate being the center of attention. Second, I was riding for the wounded warriors, and I felt like they deserved all the cheering. And third, I was ravenous and wanted a burrito. But the burrito stand wasn't open yet. And I couldn't be the porker who crossed the finish line at 10am and immediately started wolfing down a burrito!
So I just awkwardly disappeared and walked my bike back to my car, sat there for a while, and then walked back to claim my burrito when there were others in line.
And oh it was a glorious burrito! Love me some Freebirds. And, as I sat there wearing my baggy Nike sweats and slathering copious amounts of BBQ sauce on each bite (their BBQ sauce is pretty incredible), I tried to pretend like people weren't judging me. And I also resisted the urge to get my picture taken with the Geico Gecko. I secretly love the gecko but I feel kind of traitorous admitting that considering my employ.
And I also answered the questions on the back of the burrito box.
Later that afternoon, sufficiently loaded up on chicken burrito, I set out on a "quick" trail run before my evening plans.
"Don't worry Greg, it won't last that long. My legs are tired and I'm breaking in new shoes. Two hours max." I promised.
And I'm a horrible judge of time.
3.5 hours later I was returning from the trail head to my car realizing I was going to have a very agitated boyfriend to answer to...
But it was a great run. And the new trail shoes? A success.
Have a great day :-)
1 comment:
It was definitely at least four hours!
Bear
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