I've decided to start chronicling my training for the BP MS 150 2013.
Here's a first post to catch everyone up to where I am.
I
started this season with the plan of beginning with a 50 mile ride being
ready to meet a midway point of doing 85 miles by the end of March. As
a goal I had decided to get ready for the LBJ 100 which has an 85 mile
route.
That was a little over a month ago and to paraphrase Helmuth von Moltke,
no battle plan survives contact with the enemy.
My first ride
was ended with a flat tire on the cold, wet, windy side of Parmer lane
where I and my riding buddy had to shield ourselves from the wind behind
a gravel pile awaiting a friend to retrieve us.
From there I
could only improve and I did adding a few miles at a time and mainly
just battling the wind, my riding buddy and were able to do 48 miles the
next ride. I rode again on my own and this time with the wind in my
face I decided to turn around at the 26 mile mark for a total of 52
miles. While that was an improvement, my goal on that ride had been to
make it up to Florence which would have been a 66 mile round trip.
This
last weekend (March 16), what I was only battling was my own stupidity.
That day I procrastinated leaving the house until well past any
reasonable hour and decided to invite my friend along which allowed me
to procrastinate even longer. When I finally did get on the bike it was
already 11:30 on what would turn out to be the hottest day of the year
thus far. Besides starting late, I hadn't eaten breakfast. I'm not a
big breakfast person anyway, so I thought, "How much is that really
going to help?". I took off anyway, the day was warm and pleasant and
the westerly breeze was cool on my back.
I was about a mile or so
from the car when I realized that I hadn't remembered to my water
bottle fully, and thought, "gosh... I'm already getting such a late
start and with three quarters of a bottle of water it's just not worth
it to ride back and fill it up."
Things seemed fine, I was doing
great and even having to stop and change a flat tire didn't dampen my
spirits too much. I knew I was getting a boost from the wind behind me
pushing me along and I decided that I was going push past my 52 mile
limit and commit to a full 60 mile ride.
I got to my normal
turn around point and with only a slight hesitation I zoomed forth into
uncharted territory. When I did reach my new halfway point, 30 miles I
was pretty pleased with myself. I stopped for just a moment to ponder
my accomplishment, knowing that I was committed. When I did turn
around, that very moment that I turned around, I realized the depths of
my self-deception. Looking back on the strip of asphalt that stretched
before me and feeling the wind in my face that had just been my kindest
friend, I knew that she would be my most bitter enemy.
Battling
my way back against the wind, I started thinking of my water bottle.
My mouth was getting a little dry and I began to recall scenes from the
movie 127 hours. I thought about the full bottle of water back in the
car. I thought of the half dozen power bars that I had left in my camel
back. I thought of the bowl of oatmeal that I hadn't made for
breakfast.
Surely, I would reach a point where the wind would at
least be blowing across my path. I struggled against the spiteful wind
at some point literally standing still when I quit peddling. Rationing
my water at sips at a time knowing there were no houses, looking
longingly at the muddy rivers and creeks I was passing, with 15 miles to
go, I came upon a house. The brass of the faucet gleamed as if it were
itself glowing. It was an oasis in the desert.
I finally made it back to the car and collapsed for a while before I even felt like driving.
So, on a happy note ... I rode 60 miles!
