Bicycle

106 Miles Coming to You in 2012

September 19, 2011

Today I was supposed to be hobbling and whining and telling you that although it was really hard and it rained can you believe it seriously, not fair I made it 100 miles on my bike. 106 after the apparent construction sent the riders for a funny loop, which, you know, SUCKERS.

But I didn’t ride 100 miles on my bike, inside or out in the horrible, awful, slightly too cold misting rain. Instead I waited for my padded base layer tape to come so I an use stronger (skin ripping off tape without the base layer) tape to keep my knee cap in place and tentatively ride 5 miles, total. Which by my very complex calculations is 101 miles shorter than 106 I should have ridden.

Instead of riding 106 miles I had a few girlfriends over to watch Bridesmaids (more on that tomorrow) on Friday, had a lazy day with my husband on Saturday, watched a lot of football and made a big Sunday supper of grilled pork chops with a balsamic vinegar, apple juice and brown sugar gravy, roasted apples and sweet potatoes with orange zest and roasted brussel sprouts and green beans with garlic and salt and pepper. It was delicious. But it wasn’t the victory meal I’d envisioned (a juicy cheeseburger and an ice cream sundae at a nearby diner). I don’t have a stupid cheap medal and I don’t have bruises, blisters or soggy cycling clothes to show for the weekend.

And while I’m glad I haven’t done my knee any further damage, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t extremely disappointed. I suppose this means that I put it in that column of “things to do next year” along with planning another trip to Europe and finally getting a king sized bed in the master bedroom (SPACE OMFG, SPACE TO TURN OVER WITHOUT SQUISHING THE DOG) and drapes in the guest bedroom. Our guests are so *polite* about the streetlight that shines in that room, only to have it go out when the sun rises and illuminates the room with blinding rays of heat and melting, but I know that I should *probably* do something about that situation.

Next year.

I have a lot to do next year, don’t I?

Disabled List

August 24, 2011

By Daisy

I started bike riding as the result of a gentlemen’s agreement. I playfully told my Dad if he dialed it back – and only rode in one 100+ mile bike race a year- then I’d ride in that race with him. I was surprised when he said yes, but I dove into the hobby with reckless abandon. One new bike, numerous pieces of ugly riding clothes and many air pumps later, I was hooked. I cycled away. I’ve been slowly building and last weekend I rode 70 miles in one go, something that was simultaneously exhausting and exhilarating.

But at the end of my 70 mile ride my right knee swelled up. Just like it had done after the 50 mile ride the week before through hill country. For the past few months it has been nagging me, getting stiff at the end of long drives and generally causing me irritation and annoyance. To take care of it I went and saw my doctor. I had thoroughly convinced myself that they’d tell me I’d pulled a muscle, hand me a brace and recommend some physical therapy. When they told me that my knee cap wasn’t tracking properly and was floating all around, willy nilly like, and that I required weeks if not months of PT, some taping strategies and some significant rest I was dismayed.

Then the doctors dropped the bomb that my distance cycling days are over for the near future. My first 100+ mile race is September 18, directly after the end of my training program…..and until September 20th I’m in physical therapy and under orders to not ride more than 5 miles in one stretch. My next race isn’t until November, but the time leading up until November is now slated with physical therapy, swimming and light cycling. It seems that a distance ride isn’t happening again this year.

I’m …pretty disappointed. November was supposed to find me with my Dad and his friends, riding through Tucson, conquering a 109 mile course. Instead I’ll be swimming, strengthening and working towards the one and only goal of “not getting arthritis in my knee.” Somehow that isn’t nearly as much fun, nor is it a bonding experience with me and my Dad. I’m looking at my bike, wondering what went wrong, wondering why my knee cap decided not to move up and down properly.

There isn’t an answer to that, beside luck of the draw and fate. But it doesn’t mean I’m not sad that this Sunday I’m going to the dog beach and they gym instead of heading out for a 75 mile ride. As crazy as it sounds….I was kind of enjoying my new hobby. Conquering fears, riding through mile markers and talking with my Dad about my training.

Have you ever been sidelined? Did you make it back?

Because my ugly green shorts, they miss me. I can tell.

Sunday Funday

August 22, 2011

By Daisy

While most of Chicago chose to use Sunday morning to do normal things like sleep in, go to church or attend the Air and Water show, I decided to break in the day with a 70 mile bike ride. Yes, you read that right, SEVENTY miles. And it wasn’t even the highlight of the day. After I got home (many, many, many hours later) I headed out with B to take 30ish of our closest friends sailing. It was a gorgeous night, and since I like everything to be all about me, I started it off by promptly watching my iPhone slide off the boat and into Lake Michigan.

Yeah. I thought riding my bike 70 miles sucked, but it turns out watching your phone spiral into the drink is worse.

I won’t lie, having our friend Tom dive down and find it was pretty spectacular especially since my directions regarding where it fell resembled hand flapping and general pointing in all directions. Sadly the phone is not remotely considering turning on, so I’m giving it a good soak in some dry rice to see if I can get a glimmer of something out of it. We shall see.

After all that excitement, we went sailing. Along for our three hour tour were many friends including the Namby Pamby, Kristabella, and Judgy Amie. We were treated to some wild sailing (including a few spectacular jibes that had all of us lying flat on the top of the boat so we didn’t get decked by moving parts) and splashing (seriously, I though we ordered a dry sail?) but then…the views. Oh the views.

What? I count too.

Ok, maybe not. But this does.

This is the face of someone contemplating how much this little “dropping of the phone” mistake is going to cost:

Hint: one million dollars.

Give or take.

No Owls For Me

August 15, 2011

By Daisy

On Sunday I had another bike training ride, out in the dreaded hill country again. The good news is, that after thinking I would die after the first ride out there (40 miles) I pushed through and rode 50 this week. Of course the not-so-good news is that the ride was technically 65 miles but the slow group was just so damn slow we had to take a short cut so we were not riding all day. Between the hills (oh the hills….) and the headwinds I arrived back at my car in a heap of sweat and icky, somewhat disappointed in the lack of a brass band playing in joy and triumph at my arrival.

You can imagine how I felt when, by sundown, the Pope had not contacted me regarding my upcoming Sainthood. I mean, people, I rode 50 miles! In the wind! With hills. HILLS. MANY HILLS, covered in squished lizards and frogs, which, ew. Gross. I prefer my rides squished-reptile-free.

The disappointment I felt can only be compared to that of a 10 year old who waits their entire birthday for the owl from Hogwarts. To prevent this, when I have kids, they will be allowed to start the series at 10 years and one day old. Just to be sure.

Every week I learn something new when I ride, and this week the all-important lesson is that bike shorts are a poor substitute for mosquito spray. My entire backside is covered in angry red bites. Awesome. Also my bike-tan is coming along quite nicely. I look great y’all. JUST GREAT!

After coming down a particularly steep hill, flying through horse fields, we passed riders coming from the other way. I sent them a look of sympathy, a nod among friends, as the hill they were about to grind was one for the record books. Oddly enough, they gave me the same look, but I didn’t think much of it until I realized the horse fields were in the bottom of a little valley, and the hill we had to grind up on the other side was even worse than the one we’d just flown down. I stopped half way up, momentum gone, muscles shot and stumbled my way up, pushing my bike, gritting my teeth. My carbon sole shoes with their clip are not easy to walk in and I kept slipping onto my knees, sliding down as I tried to crest to the top. When I finally got there I swung back onto the bike I flipped the hill the bird. Adios, jerk.

Please imagine the look on my face when our route doubled back on itself and I had to climb the hill again.

I made it up the whole way on my bike the second time, and all I can say is that if I’d had to ride it again? I was calling a cab, while kicking the damn hill right in the pavement.

After coming home and washing off the salt crust and enjoying brunch – the visions of which get me through those last 10 miles- I took a small nap with the dog. Upon waking I was quite certain my joints had fused together. There was no other explanation for the phenomenon, but lets just say that for the next few days, I’ll be hobbling. Walking is over-rated anyway.

Besides, this guy is super excited for me to be home-bound:

Photo by Daisy’s Aunt