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.