Rosedale Ride

This weekend I took part in the Rosedale Ride, an annual ride through Northeast Austin that benefits the Rosedale School (AISD's only school for children with multiple disabilities).

With only four weeks left to train for the MS150, I was looking for a 40+ mile weekend ride, and Rosedale fit the bill perfectly. So I signed up for the 43 mile route and hoped for the best. Each rider gets paired up with a student at the school, and the race packet contains a little bio of your kid, which I thought was cool. My figurative partner was Dezirae, an 18 year-old student enrolled in the Project Search program at Dell Children's Hospital.

The course was flat out awesome--rolling, smooth and scenic, it began at the Samsung Semiconductor offices and ran out past Lake Pflugerville and into that great abyss of farmland Northeast of the city. I had such a good time on the first 20 miles that I decided (spurred on by an enthusiastic ride volunteer) to take the turnoff for the 63 mile route. Why not? If I can't do 63 miles with four weeks to go, I might as well give it up, right?

I didn't stop at all for the first 40 miles, and up until that first break everything seemed perfect. I felt like I could ride all day. I ate some cookies, had  some orange drink and set out for the last third of the race. Then, the wind picked up.

My tea'mmate April had warned me about the wind on this ride, but I didn't listen. After 40 miles of relative ease, the last 20 miles felt like an extended rugby scrum. My average speed dropped from 17mph down to 8mph, and I thought several times about packing it in. Then, with around 8 miles left to go, my rear tire went flat. With no extra tubes or even a pump, I was ready to flag the SAG truck down and catch a ride back to my car.

But thanks to some very nice ladies with pink jerseys and a C02 cartridge, I got enough air in my tube to get rolling again (thanks ladies! Sorry I slowed you down) and I decided that since I'd come this far, I might as well finish the thing. The tire held up pretty well until the last turn, when the finish line--now about a half mile away--came into view. By that time, I'd lost so much air again that I was pretty much riding on the rear rim. So I leaned forward as far as I could and did the last stretch standing up. Eventually, I limped across the finish line with my tire completely flat, and then I collapsed onto the lawn.

Overall, it was a good ride, but it was really, unbelievably tough. And if I took anything away from it, it's the knowledge that 63 miles is really, really far, and that the MS150 is going to be even harder than I imagined.

Us Vs. Gary Fisher

Five seconds into Saturday morning's ride, about 20 feet away from cycling legend Gary Fisher, I fell flat on my face. A small cheer went up among the sizable crowd of riders, celebrating my hilarious failure. "Somebody had to be the first" they said, almost in unison. I'd taken a symbolic hit for the team, apparently, so I didn't feel all that embarrassed by it--I just got up and brushed myself off. I'm still getting used to these damned clip-on shoes.

Even as late as Friday night, I was planning on skipping the ride--organized by Lance Armstrong's bike shop Mellow Johnny's--because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to keep up with the pack, or that I'd have to stop short of the planned 38 mile goal and everyone would think I was a lightweight. But then I started thinking about how it's better to regret something you have done than to regret something you haven't done and all that and I decided to hell with it I might as well give it a shot.

As it turned out, a huge chunk of Tea'm Sweet Leaf had skipped the regular Saturday training session for this chance to ride alongside a cycling icon, so I had some friends in the crowd. Plus, there were several young kids and mountain bikers in the pack, and I felt pretty confident I wouldn't come in last.

We set out from downtown and headed through the East side escorted by bicycle cops, which was awesome. They stopped traffic at most of the intersections, letting the huge pack of riders through as one group. The pace was slow, and it felt like we were in some kind of lycra-clad parade or something. But as we headed South past McKinney Falls the officers bailed, the pace quickened, and the group spread out into a thin line about a half mile long (maybe longer). Soon after that, some of the slower riders dropped off and I was literally the last in line, followed closely by the support truck and the slightly annoyed sweeper who asked me more than once if I was "doing okay".

I was the last person to arrive at the halfway point, almost 20 miles from where we'd started. But I didn't feel all that tired--I'd spent that first half chugging along slowly and steadily, and I'd made a calculated effort not to wear myself out too soon. As the group took off for the second leg, I advanced a few slots (not many, just a few) and tried my best to keep a steady pace. When we turned on to Congress and started heading North, I got into a groove, kept my head down and did the best I could, followed closely by my teammate Nick, who seemed just as determined. And to my surprise, we weren't the last to arrive at the finish--there were at least a half dozen riders behind us, which felt like some kind of small victory to me, considering I'm always always always bringing up the rear.

During the ride, I only actually saw Mr. Fisher for about 15 seconds; the rest of the time he was so far ahead, he looked like a fast-moving dot on the horizon--something out of a caught-on-tape UFO sighting. But the overall energy of the event and the complete awesomeness of my teammates made it a great ride, and I'm totally glad I did it. Of course, it wasn't even a quarter of the distance I'll have to cover for the MS150, but was a huge step in the right direction.