Hangovers, Humble Pie, and Hitting the Dirt

I've been trying to get a blog up for over a week, so we're going to cover a lot of ground here.  With that in mind, let's jump right in!

Hangovers


I'm 30.  That's not particularly old, but any of you who have hit that milestone know that hangovers are just different now.  Last Thursday, I had the very fortunate opportunity to go to Game 6 of Celtics/Hawks.  I had maybe 2-3 beers during the course of the game, and went out for one drink afterward.  The game being at 8pm, we were definitely out past my bedtime, but home before midnight.  And the next day was ro-o-o-o-o-ugh.  Not bent over, falling asleep on my desk rough, but the kind of rough where you feel like you just never get going, are off your game, not quite functioning at full-strength.  A friend of mine characterized it well - the adult hangover.  It's less about alcohol, and more about the quality of sleep you got the night before.

No excuses, I had to get a bike in.  I chugged some water, psyched myself up, and tackled 15 miles.

Two days later, on four hours of sleep and a red-bull-and-vodka induced hangover (fo' reals this time), I slogged out 13 miles.  My goal was 20... but I'm just happy I made it onto the bike.

So much more peaceful looking than it was

Maybe I shouldn't be drinking at all when I'm trying to build up to 150 miles in an 8-week period.  You know how I feel about that?  Meh.  I went to a Celtics playoff game, and my best friend turned 30 - I'm gonna have my fun.  The best part about it all, though, is how I've felt.  Even 3 months ago, I NEVER would have been able to get on the bike, either day.  It's an unbelievable, inconceivable difference!  Amazing what happens when you're able to eat regularly and keep that food down!

Even the Wicked Witch made it out

Let's not lie, though, getting out there was and is still a mental challenge.  Which leads me to...

Humble Pie


Sometime on Friday afternoon, I stumbled on this article:

http://news.blogs.cnn.com/2012/05/08/paralyzed-woman-finishes-marathon-16-days-after-start/

I've learned that the lesson in stories like this is not to remember that, no matter how bad I have it, there is someone else struggling with a greater challenge.  That is a glass-half-empty thought, and not particularly motivating.  Instead, I choose to look at it this way: this person has her own set of challenges, and she rises not only to overcome them, but to excel and inspire others.  Whatever your own challenge is, the only thing you have to do is rise to meet it.  My challenge is to keep getting on the bike each training day and go the distance, despite the changes my body has gone through, despite the depression, despite my lack-of-energy, despite the literal and figurative hills to climb.  The story above reminded me to get on the saddle and continue to push myself to surmount the speedbumps I encounter.

Speaking of bumps...

Hitting the Dirt


I pushed myself to log 19+ miles yesterday, the longest I've gone so far.  On top of that, I'm trying to push my breaks farther apart, building up endurance and mimicking the distance between the rest stops along the MS Ride.

On yesterday's ride, I told myself no stopping until I hit 12 miles.  12.1 miles later, I gratefully pulled into a parking lot to stretch a bit and give my legs a break.  I was biking along a fairly busy road, and it was peak time for traffic, so to say I was a bit hyper-aware of my surroundings is probably an understatement.  I waited until a break in traffic to start up again, got up to speed - and then heard a noise.  My first response is always to look at my tires, fearing a flat.  I glanced down, didn't see a  problem, and looked back up just in time to see an enormous crack in the road.  I was toast.  With nowhere to go, I rammed into the chasm (well, that's what it felt like) and was launched off my bike.

My girlfriend later asked me if I fall often, and I realized that I had never actually fallen while riding.  At stop lights, sure - everyone does that once in awhile.  Always embarrassing, but more bruising to the ego than anything else.

You know how, when something bad is happening, time seems to slow down and every detail becomes very clear?  That did not happen with this.  I slammed into the ground unceremoniously, the impact jarring me loose from my bike, and I skidded to a stop - it felt like it happened in a blink of an eye.  I rolled up and took stock... and realized how lucky I was.  I'd fallen near an intersection, and there was a freshly mulched garden of plants in a median.  Let's just say I made my mark there.

The mark of a seasoned athlete

A little bruised and scratched up, but really no worse for the wear.  My bike, however... well, that's where things got interesting.  At first glance, I lucked out there, too - no popped tires, no bent frame, not even terrible scratches considering it rammed over a crack and into a curb.  After I brushed dirt out of my hair, eyes, nose, shirt, shorts, and shoes, I wearily climbed back on the bike and started pedaling (I should mention here that not a single person stopped to make sure I was okay).  All of a sudden, my gears started jumping like a Kriss Kross song was on.  No matter what the incline/decline, so matter how I pedaled, no matter what I did with my shifters, it was like my gears were possessed.  I finally found that the only ones that would consistently stay were the easiest one, and the hardest one.  So I spent the next 7 miles huffing and puffing my way along flat ground, and going 7mph up hills, just spinning.

Turns out I busted a fairly important part on my bike, but fortunately my buddy at work was able to help me out.  Tomorrow, I do two things I haven't done since May of last year - ride 30 miles, and ride with a friend.  No hangovers this time, but I humbly will attack this challenge and hopefully avoid meeting the pavement with anything other than my tires.

What's your challenge today?

Oil it up, mount it, and ride it hard!