66 Miles

Two weekends ago a friend invited me to ride 26 miles with a group of people on small folding bikes. They were preparing for El Tour de Tucson - our city's annual cycling race. It was fun - fun to ride that much and fun to see different parts of the city. Then last weekend, I decided I wanted to ride more, so I went for a 40 mile ride. When I came home, I looked up rides in Tucson to see if there were more people I could join. I found a training ride for the Tour put on by the Greater Arizona Bicycling Association (GABA) happening this weekend. They had three options: 35 miles, 66 miles, and 101 miles. I thought I could do the 35 miles, but could I do 66? On Sunday (the day after I did 40 miles) I decided to ride the 35 mile route. It was challenging and there was definitely a heart-attack hill to climb, but it didn't kill me, so I signed up for the longer one.

Then the preparation and worry began. Let's be clear - I've never ridden 66 miles straight. I ride an average of 10 miles/hr (not very fast) and we have a total of 9 hours to complete the route. This includes bathroom breaks, bike maintenance time (if that should befall you), eating (stands are set up along the way), or changing clothes. Two and a half extra hours seems like plenty of leeway, but there were sections of my ride on Sunday where I was definitely going below my average; uphill I was practically crawling. I've got the back and forth volley going: Can I do this? Yes I can. But can I really? I want to do it. Icarus said the same thing.

Since I'm doing this ride (it isn't even a race), I even went out and bought some cycling shorts, knickers, and a jersey. I figured I should try to look like a cyclist, instead of wearing my oversized, $2.50 jeans from Goodwill and hiking shirt (which are both admittedly comfortable). My bike is a Trek hybrid - not even a road bike - so I'm hoping it can handle the trip as well.

I think the reason I'm doing this in the first place is because I have a competitiveness that comes out every so often. My coworker told me about a former resident and fellow who a few months ago had completed 70 miles on a bicycle. This girl can't be over five feet tall. She's a tiny thing that never exercised, wore only high heels and skirts, and had a long, blonde, wavy ponytail that swished around when she walked. She looked like a doll from the land of cupcakes. If she can do 70 miles, so can I.

On the other side of the coin, I also just like to push myself physically, because it feels good and I'm curious. I'll do something - like ride up a giant hill - and ask myself, "Can I do more? What would happen if I kept going?" There's also that awesome feeling of flying down a steep hill and leaning into a turn. Feeling fast is an adrenaline rush for me.

Right now, cycling and a little strength training is about all I can manage right now. It's cheap and I have to do it anyway, because I'm carless. However, I enjoy feeling competitive again, even if it's only against Yesterday Amy. It's a neat feeling to look back at a hill and say, "I just climbed that," or look at a map and see the distance I covered. Tomorrow is the day and I hope all goes well. I hope I can walk on Monday. I'll keep you posted.