Ok, so I have been riding my fat tire mountain bike for awhile now. The longest ride I logged before today was 10 some miles. In my self-improvement induced stupor, I figured I could muster the other 10 miles out of sheer determination and will power. Ha ha, so I signed up for the 20 mile race. I have been looking forward to my first bicycle event!
In preparation for my race, we pulled my bike out and dear hubby tried to adjust the gears and something broke. So bike in shop- not predicted to be done until after the race. In a panic, I tried out Dear hubby's bike for about 5 minutes, hoping I wouldn't have to use it.
Day before the race. Bike is ready. Whew.
Day of the race. I checked in at the registration desk and picked up the packet. Picking up the packet is so exciting. Usually, you get a goody bag full of stuff. Usually you get a t-shirt. This time we got socks, which were cool. But when I brought them home, Dear Hubby reminded me that when socks in our family go into the washer, little trolls (my children) steal them and I never see them again. So I am a little disappointed that I will probably only wear the socks once. sigh.
About 300 people were registered for the race, but only about 100 or less actually showed up. The start was very casual. The century racers were sent off first with, "Alright, take off." While we were waiting for our start, the race director asked if anyone was a first timer. A couple of us raised our hands, and the director shot us a very strange look- something between sympathy and pity. My stomach fell a bit and I suddenly became a little nervous.
She informed us that last year they told the riders that the course was flat. Several veterans laughed. She told us that the course was a little hilly! Well, I think that will go down as the understatement of the year.
We took off and I was pedaling furiously into strong head winds, just trying to not be last. I ride a Schwinn mountain bike, and as I have mentioned before- This bike is NOT made for speed. I wasn't the only one riding a mountain bike, but the others handlily passed me within the first mile. Well, more like within the first 1/4 mile.
I thought, that surely it can't be my bike if the mountain bikers are passing me. I must be that slow. So, I tried a little experiment. I matched my pedaling cadence with theirs in my lowest gear and realized something! It is my bike. I pedal as fast or faster and they are all passing me. I felt very inadequate on my big purple mountain bike. It was like I was standing still when the road bikes whizzed by making that very cool road bike whir sound.
My GPS app on my new phone talks in my ear and by the time the female voice chimed in to let me know I had traveled a mile, I was at the end of the line. By the time I hit 2 miles, I couldn't even see anyone. Remember the hill thing? Well, I think there was probably less than a mile of flat riding the entire trip. The whole course was going up a hill, to go down a hill, to go up a hill. I was pooped.
To make matters worse, I had eaten at 6 am (Shakeology and a banana) though full of vitamins and tons of good stuff, the shake has only 140 calories which was burned up before we even started at 9am. As we were pulling out, my stomach was growling. Fortunately for me, I packed a couple of protein bars, unfortunately for me, I didn't eat one soon enough.
Every now and then I would look up and see some kind soul on a beautiful speedy bike at the top of a far hill pulled over waiting to catch sight of me. They tried to be subtle, probably so my feelings wouldn't be damaged. It was very thoughtful and kind og them, but what they may not have realized was that I didn't feel bad. I was having a blast. I lived in Springtown years ago and was a first responder, so as I was riding along, I was remembering calls I responded to at houses I was passing and wrecks on the side of the road. In all of that time racing down these roads on a mission to save lives, I never had time to look around. This time, I was going really really slow and looking around. The scenery was beautiful.
At mile 5ish, almost attacked by a dog. Big dog. Very scary. Lots of adrenaline.
Oh, I forgot to mention, the reason so many people didn't show up was because there was a 60% chance for rain. Well, 60% turned into 100% at mile 8. My GPS lady just announced mile 8 in my ear when the downpour commenced. I pulled off the road and took shelter in a stand of trees and quickly put my cell phone (brand new smart phone) in a pouch I purchased on the way to the race. I tucked it under my shirt and prayed it would stay dry. I pulled back on the road and continued in the rain.
The first and only rest stop was at mile 13. I pulled in for a quick snack and drink. I told the ladies under the umbrellas that I suspected I was the last one. They assured I wasn't. But I am pretty sure I was. I was passed by everyone and didn't pass anyone. At that point, the 40 milers were starting to pass me.
I took off up the hill (surprise) and pedaled furiosly some more. A few minutes later a lady on a speedy road bike pulled up beside me from behind and started chatting. Weird, cause she had passed me a while back. She told me she turned off the wrong road and had gotten lost.
We stuck together for the rest of the ride and chatted the whole way back in the pouring freezing rain. Well maybe not freezing, but on a bike with high winds it felt freezing. We talked about bikes and races and how many hills we had conquered.
The last few miles went by much quicker with someone to talk to. I was so grateful that she had slowed down and kept me company. She was grateful too. Oh, and we passed several people on the way in the back stretch. A lot of people also took the truck in and didn't finish. I was quite proud of myself.
We pulled in with a time of 2:49 in the pouring rain. I quickly threw my bike in the back of the truck and headed home soaking wet. Cell phone in tact. Did I mention it was raining?
First bike rally down. I am hooked. Now I have to get a road bike so I can make that cool whizzing sound as I pass slow people on crappy mountain bikes.
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