Sick Day

Today is the first day of summer and my sister’s graduation: which I haven’t come to terms with but shan’t think about till 7 o’clock tonight.

Anyway, the end of May is almost upon us and Dad and I hadn’t yet finished our CIBA 500 miles in May goal yet. With all the graduation and family events scheduled for this weekend, today was our last chance to ride the 31 CIBA miles we needed to complete our goal and earn our free jerseys (the best part of course). Unfortunately, I’ve been very much sick this entire week – finals week, which has been just a fabulous time. I got up this morning with just a couple hours of real sleep, a sore throat, completely stuffed up head, and a cough. I considered cutting myself a break, but could not abide with missing my goal by just 31 miles. So, we headed out to Indian Creek Church for the Southeast Trainer CIBA ride, and took a shorter loop than the 54 miler we had done the past weekend. It sucked, but turning up my music and drinking every mile made it manageable. We got not just 31 but actually 34 miles in, bringing our May CIBA total to about 503 miles.

I’m really pleased with this accomplishment, because it means that some of my training has paid off, and my epic ride goal seems much more achievable. Six weeks ago, 28 miles at 15 mph on a beautiful day during our Franklin CIBA ride was a struggle. Now I can do the same ride at the same speed – while sick as a dog.

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We celebrated this triumph at Panda Express – here is my lunch complete with an entire box of Kleenex, half of which I went through today.

Now I just have to deal with my sister’s graduation – wish me luck!

A Weekend Marathon (or Six)

This weekend was the first time I’ve done several consecutive rides of significant distance – and I was surprised and pleased with the result!

On Saturday, Dad and I rode a metric century – it was difficult but we had a good time. This ride, I decided to pull out my bike-mounted speakers for the first time. I also compiled a playlist of mostly 80s hits and classic rock to be the soundtrack of the ride. Being a music person, I’m 90% faster when I’ve got music going because that somehow gives me about as much energy as food does. So far, the best song on the playlist is “You Don’t Know You’re Beautiful” by OneDirection because boybands just have that kind of power. However, Duran Duran’s “Rio” is definitely the getting taken off because that sax solo at the end is murder when it’s assaulting your ears as you’re trucking up a sizeable hill. 

There were a few strange looks when we arrived at a sag stop accompanied by Vivaldi, but it works for me so I’m going to keep on providing myself with a cycling soundtrack.

Sunday, Dad and I met up with our good friend Julie from the Thursday night CIBA rides out of our candle shop, and biked a 54 mile loop from Franklin Central High School to the Franklin (City) McDonald’s and back. I was a little nervous about my legs cramping up after the significant ride the day before. For the first ten miles, I was not feeling it. I felt slow and uncomfortable, and I was dreading the next 40 miles of sweatiness and soreness and grumpiness.

At my tired, slow pace, I found myself riding with an older couple. I was actually just about to pass them when the woman smiled and introduced herself. I adjusted my pace and responded, and joked about being the back of the pack. She mentioned how she and her husband didn’t ride as much as they used to, mainly because in 2008 they had stopped cycling seriously to train for climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. I’m fascinated by all things travel and epic (hence the bike ride) and so I spent the next half an hour listening to her amazing travels all over the world. She and her husband had not only summitted Kilimanjaro, they had climbed an ancient Incan trail to Macchu Picchu, they had embarked upon an African Safari, they had visited Poland and all of Europe, they had experienced “five star hotels” in Tanzania and Kenya, they had fended off lecherous men in Egypt, and were headed off to Costa Rica in two weeks. Listening to her incredible stories, and the kinds of discomforts and frustrations that one encounters outside of the comfortable first world of America, I was inspired. Riding my bike and knowing that I can stop every ten miles to pamper myself with air conditioning and clean sheets and fast food suddenly doesn’t seem like that much of a sacrifice anymore. For the rest of the ride, nothing really bothered me or made me terribly uncomfortable. I ended up zoning out to Mumford and Sons and leaving my Dad and Julie behind, and didn’t notice until I’d reached railroad tracks and stopped to get my bearings. I’m not usually the pack leader, but something about that couple’s experiences has really motivated me to get out of my comfort zone. I’d never felt as good on a ride as I felt for the last half of that ride.

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Monday was Memorial Day, and so Dad and I went out again on the same ride. This time we rode in a larger group with some of CIBA’s stronger riders. I found myself in a perfect spot, right behind a fellow who was pulling his two Schnauzer puppies in a little covered wagon. I was highly amused watching them fall over each other and jostle for postion, then give up and fall asleep in the way that all dogs eventually do. I also got a fabulous draft and found myself comfortably going at a speed that is usually more of a struggle. Again, I had concerns that my riding in over the past few days would contribute to leg cramps and soreness, but I felt loose and comfortable. When we reached McDonalds’ that morning, a few regulars were amused at our sweaty return, and I feasted upon a definitely healthy cheeseburger mostly likely manufactured out of car tires. We did cut that ride a little shorter than the day before, ending with a grand total of about 43 miles, because by that time I was a little uncomfortable and I wanted to get back so I could study for finals.

This weekend proved a couple of interesting things – first, that I can physically ride long distances for consecutive days. (We covered just over 160 miles over three days - a little more than six marathons - Woohoo!)  Second, that most pain and discomfort can be ignored if I think big picture. And dream about climbing Macchu Picchu myself one day.

Unfortunately, I’m not going to be able to do as much biking as I would like to in this coming week due to the unvanquished beast that is final exams, but I’m looking forward to fitting at least one more CIBA ride in to finish our 500 CIBA miles in May goal – and getting a free jersey for it of course.

Also, because of the huge success of my bike speakers, I’m looking for new ideas for good songs to put on the playlist. If you have any music suggestions, please comment! I’m going to be on my bike for seven hundred miles and the background music is most likely what’s going to keep me on that bike.

Thanks!

Dave’s Adventure

Last night was a CIBA ride out of Franklin, one of our Thursday night rides. We were having a fine time, riding along as usual, enjoying the beautiful weather – when 20 some miles into the ride, a woman driving past stopped her car to warn us that the road was closed off up ahead.  Now, we knew the area had seen some substantial rainfall of late, but we decided we might as well investigate anyway.  We biked over the next ridge, only to discover a massive, hundred-yard portion of the road completely flooded over, with strong currents of water running across the road into the a ditch.  We stopped and admired these wild, untamable farmlands – then a fellow named Dave, riding with us, decided to ford the river, charging ahead on his bike.

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Dave is 77. He was the strongest rider in our group, and we looked on in awe as he took on the mighty Cornfield River. He rode about three quarters of the way across, then was forced to dismount (in water over his knees) and forged ahead on foot. Everyone else remained a safe distance from the water, venturing only to snap pictures and shout encouragement. Once he’d reached dry land, we waved goodbye and biked back the way we’d come – leaving Dave on the other side of Cornfield River as he had declared that there would be no turning back. The rest of the ride minus Dave was lovely, as we discovered a new road and extended our typical ride by a few miles.

Here we are in front of a Franklin landmark, seven miles or so from the finish.  (Not pictured - Dave, who had forded the cornfield, and Dad, the photographer.)

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Once we arrived in the Franklin city parking lot, we visited with one of the local Lions who was preparing for their Spring Fish Fry, and were reunited with Dave – whose quest had been extended by further surprise water features. He was, of course, just fine and happy to chat for a bit before announcing that his wife had baked a cake and requested his presence.

I doubt I’ll ever have Dave’s stamina and bravery, but he’s definitely become my newest cycling inspiration.

The Longest Ride Yet – and a Thank You

Dad and I rode my farthest distance this Sunday on the RAIN trainer, 82 miles! It was a little difficult towards the end, which we dealt with by means of a Subway feast. This one was a step up of about 20 miles from my last longest distance – around 65 miles. It’s pretty good news for the quickly approaching RAIN ride, because it’s preparing me for the significant saddle time that RAIN and the epic ride are going to require. I’ve got to say, I’ve seen much more beautiful country than the highway, but it was fantastic to get so many miles in my legs for the first time

This blog post is a bit of a shout out to my dad – my coach and chauffeur and culinary artist. I wouldn’t have been able to make it through the last ten miles without my dad doing his best to make sure I’d been sufficiently fueled and rested, and never losing his patience even in the hottest part of the day when both of us were sore and tired.

I have my dad to thank for much of the organization of this trip and training, the biking expertise and coaching, constant encouragement, and my bike itself of course. I wouldn’t have been able to make it this far, and I know he’s going to be the difference between my success and failure on the epic ride in August. We’re having a pretty great time, loudly singing “Life’s Been Good” by Joe Walsh when we’ve had a little too much sun and coming up with dumb puns to entertain ourselves through the cornfields. We’ve enjoyed Popeye’s fried apple pies after rides, and brainstormed my AP Language and Composition essays. If nothing else, this season of biking will mean many more memories with my dad before I go off to college.

Once again Dad, thanks for all you do! And congratulations on our first Strava Grand Fondo of the season!

A Significant Update

It’s been a while since I was last able to post – I blame school and AP exams  and such nonsense. However, there have been several important developments  lately, and I’ll do my best not to forget anything!

First, the most serious stuff: Dad took me to the rheumatologist on Tuesday (May 13th), and we were finally able to discuss the bike ride with Dr. Ballinger at Riley.  I was a little worried that she would be against it because of potential complications in the future and the risk of damaging important joints and such.  In the end, she loved the idea of sort of triumphing over the disease and essentially told me that she’ll never tell a patient not to do something, just encourage them to exercise caution. She suggested building in a few extra days to the ride to provide a cushion in case joint pain becomes excessive, and I’m trying to see how to fit that in around school and marching band and all the other crazy stuff I do. So we’ve got the doctor’s backing! 

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Now that we know I’m sure that I'm allowed to ride, Dad and I have been working on getting this idea off the ground. As a completely broke teenager, I offered a family friend named Cody Jones a couple of nights of babysitting in exchange for a professional logo design.  Here I am hanging out with one of the world’s most fabulous babies, already a ladykiller and he knows it.

And here, almost as importantly, is the new logo!

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Feeling pretty stoked about the new website and logo – but, being a bike-riding, long-haired, candle-making musician, I’m going to work with my equally hippie sister on tweaking the website design a little to reflect my personality, so expect some Ralph Waldo Emerson quotes and sepia photographs.

Beyond the media aspects of the trip, Dad and I have also been training hard lately. We’ve done some fifty plus mile rides these past two weekends, with interesting outcomes and some strange happenings.

On the first ride, we trucked along (there were many hills and I wasn’t a big fan) and made decent time on a CIBA group ride in Columbus. We were 49.5 miles in, just a half a mile to the parking lot where we had started, when suddenly this giant herd of wild deer appeared out of nowhere and sprinted across the four-lane highway. Both of us were nearly hit head-on by deer, but managed to survive due to some hasty prayers and luck. One of the deer broke his leg while dashing across the road. He popped right back up and made to the other side, but then he fell and couldn’t get back up – as his entire herd ran on and left him. I was horrified. I immediately yelled to Dad that we needed to go help the unfortunate, but as we were on a busy highway there wasn’t much to – so I insisted that we turn back. Dad humored me and we returned to see the deer still struggling, but several local farmers had already pulled over to deal with him. Apparently he needed to be put down, because his leg would never heal right and his herd had abandoned him. I’m assuming Bambi was eventually put down, but I definitely did not stick around to watch. That episode sort of put a damper on the triumphant return, but the ride was still a great one and frankly how often do ten deer stampede a highway while you’re trying to ride your bicycle and you survive?

The next weekend, we went for another 60-65 mile CIBA ride, this time in Lawrence. We started out strong…then 16 miles in my back tire flatted.  A hundred yards later, the patch on my tire failed. After this repair to a repair was made, we continued on for five miles only to have Dad’s back tire flat. Within a mile his patch failed as well. We switched out inner tubes and hoped they would work better, and received two more flat tires for our efforts. Needless to say, by the time we reached the first SAG stop, it was long gone, along with everyone participating in the group ride. However, we pressed on, (missing the second SAG as well) and rode until I announced lightheadedness and so we then enjoyed a McDonalds’ feast.  By the time we finished this ride, I was so sunburnt that I think I’m already more tan than I’ve ever been in my life. However, I’m rather crispy and sunblock has now become an essential component in my kit.

So here is the update on all things Bethany in the past few weeks! As I’ve recently enjoyed popularity on social media I encourage everyone to keep sharing and liking, thanks for getting the word out!

A Fabulous Ride

The only way I cash describe today's ride is totally fabulous.  Dad and I were desperate to get a ride in after my bike fit, and today was the first time I got in a decent-length ride after the fit.  I absolutely love it!  Suddenly keeping up with Dad was easy, and all leg cramps disappeared!  I felt so much stronger and faster.  

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Dad spent the 28 miles explaining the finer pouts of competitive cycling to me which I was able to hear and understand because this time I wasn't gasping for breath two bike lengths behind!  We also did a half dozen two-minute speed intervals and practiced standing up out of the saddle - feats I had struggled with before.  to top it off, the weather was beautiful with minimal wind and sunny skies - not to mention that the calves were out in the pasture and seeing them is my favorite part of the Franklin route.

I'm feeling inspired and prospects are definitely looking up regarding the Epic Ride, in both strength and pain management.

Special thanks to Brian Goatee, proprietor of Gray Goat Sports, our family's favorite local Bike shop, a master fitter, who did a fantastic job.  Can't wait to have the new location open just four blocks from my house!

The Road to Khazad-Dum

Today Dad planned out a ride on the Wabash Heritage bike trail in Lafayette, Indiana.  The whole family got geared up, mounted bikes on the roof, and drove to Lafayette, planning a nice 40ish mile ride to include the Tippecanoe battlefield.  Upon reaching the park we unloaded and got ready to go (side note - this is the first ride I've recorded and downloaded on my new Strava app, so now you can follow my training!).

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Lafayette's idea of a bike path?

At first the trail seemed to live up to its claims of road-bike friendliness, however we hadn't gone a mile before dark reality set in.  Unmarked dirt tracks, complete lack of signage, a runner who knowingly informed us that runners ALWAYS go against traffic (even on a path?!) and this fabulous single board bridge that I was refused the privilege of returning in order to photograph it because apparently damage to our bikes and humanity would be too great, all contributed to this.

Apparently, "road bike" is synonymous with "rugged mountain climber bedecked in soccer cleats and war paint!" Or Legolas.

However, our journey across Middle Earth was not the only epic event in the park that day.  A group of valiant warriors was waging foam war on one another in the park:

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The foam "boffer" battlefield.

After an 8.9 mile quest through the wilderness, Zoe and I felt justified in interrupting a duel to get a selfie, so here we are, pictured with Aragorn.  Or possibly Gimli.  Can't be sure which.

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