It was a banner weekend for working out, and I am exhausted because of it.
On Friday night I was treated to home-cooked lasagna (not cooked by Jose; if he could cook like that, our eating out problems would be over), which was a good carbo-loading technique for Saturday morning’s 63.25 mile Gator Ride that took Joe, me, and a thousand other riders all over the countryside just east of Houston.
I got up bright and early to drive over to Baytown, and after parking, I got all my gear together. Biking requires a ton of gear; I’m always terrified that I’ll forget something. I took my bike off the rack, checked the tires, put the water bottles in their cages, put my cell phone in the bike bag. Put on my arm warmers and jacket to ward of the chill, put on my bandanna, put on my helmet, put on two pairs of gloves because my cycling gloves are fingerless. Turn on the Garmin, wait for it to acquire satellites, and then the final step — separate apartment keys from car keys, because there’s only enough room in the bike bag for one set. Leave apartment keys in car, and take car keys with me.
We started in Baytown and went up and over the Hartman Bridge within the first five miles. I’m just glad the bridge was at the beginning of the ride. From there we rode right past the San Jacinto Monument and Battleship Texas, neither of which I have ever visited. I’ve been meaning to for years, but haven’t. At least I’ve seen them now. The first rest stop was at the Lynchburg Ferry, which was pretty cool since I’d never ridden it before. I was picturing something like the Bolivar Ferry down in Galveston, but Lynchburg was much smaller. And filled with bikers.
The rest of the ride carried us through the countryside, which is actually very pretty in a Texas sort of way. I saw some kind of llama, and some South African goats. Texans are strange. As Joe said, everything seems a little more MORE on a bike. Roads are smoother or bumpier. Traffic is more of an issue. And the wind, well, the wind is so much windier.
Saturday morning was breezy, we’ll put it that way. The worst parts were miles 20-35 and 60-62, when we faced near headwinds, and in some cases, dead-on headwind. It’s never fun to see your speedometer reading 10 mph when it feels like you’re working harder than ever. But when the wind was at our backs, things were glorious. I am never quite as manic depressive as I am on the bike — I’m either happy or miserable. There is rarely an in-between feeling. When I’m heading into the wind, I want to be anywhere but on the bike.
We finished the ride in just over 4 hours, for an average of either 15.2 or 15.3 mph depending on whether you trust my speedometer or my Garmin. That time doesn’t include the couple minutes we spent at each rest stop; I didn’t have any goos to bring along, so I needed to stop for a bite of food each time. Nutrition is one thing I still need to figure out for the race in three weeks. After finishing, I ate lunch, said goodbye to Joe, and cruised back to my car. Remember earlier how I said that I separated my apartment keys from my car keys and put the car keys in my bike bag and the apartment keys in the car?
Reverse that.
I opened my bike bag and pulled out…my apartment keys. Yes, for the first time ever, I locked my keys in the car.
Crashing on railroad tracks? Flat tires? Locking the keys in the car? I think the gods are trying to tell me that biking is not my thing.
As I sat in the sun waiting for Jose to rescue me with a spare key, I started having some second thoughts about the Half Ironman. I know that I have the potential to do it, and I know that I can do it, but the bike worries me greatly. The bike has the largest potential to royally suck. The bike has the potential to take a lot out of me. If I have a bad day, it will be because of the bike. The bike has the potential to slow me down enough that I don’t finish within the time limit.
I was having enough second thoughts that I looked online to see if they allow transfers from the Half Ironman down to the Quarter Ironman (which I know I can do). They don’t. No exchanges, no transfers, no refunds, no exceptions.
Jose asked if not finishing in time would ruin the entire experience. It wouldn’t in the long run, but it would on that day. I am very hard (too hard) on myself; if I don’t finish, I’ll be pretty upset. I’ll get over it with time, and realize that no matter what happens in the race, I am better off for doing the training. Jose recommended that I stop thinking about it for another week, at least until I’ve done the practice Quarter Ironman I have scheduled for next weekend (0.6 mile swim, 28 mile bike, 6.5 mile run).
Jose is pretty smart.