Veni, vidi, vici Tuesday, March 20, 2007This last weekend was my first ever bike race. It was a friendly competition with 5 checkpoints. 5.
The fact that there were 5 checkpoints became very important when I hit the finish line and was told I'd missed the 3rd checkpoint and I needed the pin from that checkpoint or I would be disqualified.
But I should back up and set the scene a little bit. I've been training for a triathlon (a sprint), and have been averaging about 13 miles in 45 minutes on the gym bike. I totally realize that riding a bike in the gym is NOTHING like riding on one the road.
It is also nothing like riding a bike on the road in 25 degree weather. For an hour and half.
I still don't think my lungs have recovered, and by the end of Friday night I sounded like a half dead emphysema patient who also had an advanced case of pneumonia. Which, since I was mildly buzzed, seemed very hilarious. Sober it is just as funny.
So here is the part where I fucked up, I completely missed checkpoint number 3. Totally didn't even see it on the map at all since it was so far away from the other checkpoints.
I didn't have to go back out, but I just can't give up-it isn't coded into my DNA according to my father. So off I went to Sell's Park. As I rode down Madison my face/ears hurt so bad and the tears of pain I was crying froze on my cheeks. That isn't some exaggerated alliteration by me, it is what really happened.
Eventually I made it back to Pete and Mer's, more frozen than I had been the first time I got there. Lets put it this way, as I was pushing my bike up Madison (there is no way I could ever think to ride up that hill especially not at this point in the race) I realized the my underwear had migrated so far up my bottom but I had no idea because I could not feel my bottom. Could not feel it at all.
But with all of the cold and missed checkpoints and lungs nearly exploding I still finished, and I feel awesome about it.
I was also the only person to carry their bike up these stairs, which is what Pete and Meredith (the race organizers) thought would be the most logical thing to do. It was really hard and my bike is no light deal so by the end my muscles were really screaming.
But seriously, look at how fucking awesome my thighs look. LOOK!
I'll admit I'm more than a little in love with my thighs lately. They frigging rock.
The rest of the evening was spent laughing and drinking Blue Moon with the other racers and friends.
I have to say I might be hooked.