Happy New Year

We made it! Through all the trials of 2020, we made it to the other side! Although I realize we’re not through much of what made it a challenging year, it’s nice to have a fresh start and hope for things to improve in the near future. Despite the roughness, there were bright spots during the year, lessons that I know I learned, and moments that were enjoyable, even if they seemed few and far between.

A beautiful sunrise captured early in 2020… the promise of a great year, I believed at the time.

At the end of 2019/early 2020, I thought for sure we were on the verge of losing our Labrador. She has surprised us though and remains solidly moving toward her 15th birthday. As stated at the time of the post about her, she is stubborn and I know she’ll stay with us as long as she likes and will likely go out on her terms. I have no complaints about this. I worry about her some days, but I enjoy that she is finding new ways to enjoy life in her senior years.

Resting in the mountains during one of our biggest rides this year. It was a challenge to climb some steep and slippery terrain (in spots), but it was great fun to do so together.

This year, I took many solo rides to locations I would’ve never ridden alone in the past. I think I’ve grown more confident in my ability to take on riding challenges this year, and I know this likely wouldn’t have happened without the time Sam and I spend together riding the tandem. Becoming a stronger captain has been one of my goals because I don’t like feeling as though I am stunting our potential being the weak link in our duo. At the end of the year, I am finally starting to believe that I can pull my own weight, and although it’s taken a few years, it’s a nice feeling to know I’m not completely dependent on my much stronger stoker.

Taken at the start of the only event we participated in this year in February… Sam was riding a 100k ride, while I was running a 10k run with a friend and our dogs. Unfortunately, it got cancelled soon after the start due to some pretty intense weather conditions.

Usually, we both find events to participate in throughout the year, whether on foot or bike. Of course, this year most events were cancelled (rightly so), so finding other ways to challenge ourselves became a different sort of self-contest. Initially, we thought there may be hope for some events later in the year, but soon into the virus mess, we knew there weren’t going to be group gatherings for quite awhile. We have both missed going to the gym, but we were able to gather enough free or very inexpensive equipment to make a home-gym in the garage, which has helped.

An extremely rainy ride in the cold. I left in the warmth of the sun and was quickly greeted by some very cold, pelting rain, but I was still having fun.

Somehow, I managed to ride more miles than I ever have in a single year, even slightly edging out Sam (which has never been possible for me in the past). Weirdly though, I didn’t complete a single ride longer than mid-60 miles in length in 2020. I ended up a few average-length rides shy of 9,000 miles… which, for many, is a drop in the bucket, but for me was quite an accomplishment, particularly given how slowly I tend to ride most days. I suppose it helped that work was limited this year and I needed something to distract myself. Riding seemed to fill a bit of the emptiness and I used cycling as much as I could to release emotions and tension.

This was just a gorgeous day! The sun was shining, everything was green, and I enjoyed every moment of the ride.

In that vein, this year has also taught me that no amount of strength training can take the place of physically climbing hills/mountains on a bike. The training certainly helps reinforce the rides, but there doesn’t seem to be a substitute for actually doing the work. This may seem obvious to most, but somehow that light bulb just didn’t switch on for me until this year. After accepting that I would be slow and just doing the work, I feel like climbing is slowly but surely getting a bit better. I’m still slow, but I can feel that each time I climb things get a little bit easier to deal with and I even occasionally look forward to it (something I never thought would happen). I know that I won’t ever be a super-star climber, for various reasons, but I appreciate that I don’t dread it the way I once did.

Enjoying a slow ride on my old friend, the Rivendell.

I reacquainted myself with an old two-wheeled friend, which helped me remember that not everything has to be a race, and just enjoying the ride, at whatever pace, is what it’s really about.

We dealt with incredible fires that ravaged the entire western US and left us breathing a little extra poorly. Never was I so grateful for the cold weather to set in to help with extinguishing the raging catastrophes. One got so close that there was a brief threat of evacuation that put us all a bit on edge and many close by lost a lot, unfortunately.

I made art, but didn’t sell much. It’s a challenging thing to figure out the virtual world of selling when so many like to physically see work in person before plunking down money. I can’t blame anyone for that, as I have very much the same feelings. It doesn’t help matters that so many are unemployed right now and art is the last thing people are looking for when finances are tight. I hope that there will by physical fairs and markets in 2021, but I realize we are a bit out from that hopefulness, too.

I made bread (like most), and pies, cakes, cookies and more. Though not as much as I generally would, I suppose. Despite the baking, I feel more fit than I have in quite awhile, but that could be because I mostly made and didn’t consume much.

For those who have interest in such things, here are the more solid numbers (or at least those I recorded, as I tend not to record transportation rides). I spent:

--> 605+ hours riding a bike, or 8,922 miles

--> 386+ hours running or walking dogs, or 1,302 miles

--> 205 hours (and some change) working out in some other form

I did not accomplish as much as I had hoped this year, and mostly I have only myself to blame.

I had hoped to use some of my spare time to get better at Spanish (many of the classes I subbed in before COVID had students who only spoke limited English, and as many years as I’ve taken of Spanish, I still don’t really seem to be able to get it to stick… at least to a point that I am somewhat comfortable). This one is particularly disappointing for me… no me gusta.

I had planned several longer rides that never happened. On the list was my first 200k, but it just didn’t take priority, and several other 100+ mile rides.

I had projects around the house to complete that also didn’t get done (such as repainting gutters/fences/decks and finally turning a trash find into a usable piece of furniture).

Although I have enjoyed some of this year, I can’t help but hold out hope that 2021 will be a better year for all of us. I hope that you’ve found bright spots during the year as well and that you and yours have remained healthy and well. Please feel free to share your highlights (or low lights) too. Wishing you the very best in the coming year.

Happy New Year!!!!!

Goodbye 2019

Despite falling short of my writing and photo-taking goals, it’s been a very full, eventful year. I’m having a difficult time processing that 2019 is nearly over and that we’re moving on to the next decade very shortly. It’s felt like a good year in many ways and so I wanted to take a little time to relive some of the highlights.

As we started off 2019, the weather was quite good. Being able to ride through the majority of winter without struggles, too many layers, or loads of ice was really a beautiful gift. The cold may have lasted longer into spring than we’d have liked, but the trade-off was worth it.

In 2018, I was disappointed in my ability to maintain consistency throughout the year, so although I didn’t want to become bored with activities, I wanted to ensure that I stayed active in cycling, walking/jogging, and the gym. The early part of the year was much better in 2019 than in the year prior, so I believed that would keep me focused through the months to come.

In early April, we rode our first century of the year. It was the first 100-miler I’d done in about six years and it was our first ride of that distance together on the tandem. The lapping route created was something that we thought would be a bit boring, but actually turned into a fun adventure.

Smiling through the cold days… even though they lasted a little longer than we’d have liked.

In June, we took on our first organized century on the tandem. I was nervous about the ride because it had a long, steep climb involved. Although the long climb was definitely slow for us, it was a great challenge (and the descent on the backside was incredibly fun). Having an opportunity to ride in areas that we don’t usually travel was a fantastic way to see new possibilities as well.

We have thoroughly enjoyed our tandem rides.

In July, we visited a more western spot in our state while attending a friend’s wedding. This allowed us to explore a Rails-to-Trails route from Glenwood Springs to Aspen, Colorado. Although our time was limited and we didn’t get to ride the entire distance, what we were able to experience had us wishing for more of these types of paths to ride throughout the country.

Riding the Rails-to-Trails path from Glenwood Springs to Carbondale, Colorado

A sort of miniature goal I set for myself at the beginning of the year was to get in at least 1,050 minutes (17.5 hours) of moderate intensity movement each week. I arrived at this number because of the suggested time of 150 minutes per week and thought it would be interesting to see if I could instead average 150 minutes each day during each week over the course of the year. I am excited to say that I only missed my goal 4 weeks out of the year, I far surpassed this goal most weeks during the year, and the few weeks I fell short I missed the goal by only a short amount of time.

By early October, I’d reached my mileage goal for cycling and am ending the year about 1,600 miles beyond what I’d hoped to achieve, not including transportation miles, which would bump numbers up higher. Mileage on foot was more than I’d expected as well, and though I admit it’s a pittance compared to dedicated runners, I thought the nearly 1,200 miles was a good number for me, especially in combination with other activities.

Of course, there were still things I’d hoped to complete before year’s end that didn’t quite happen. I’d wanted to do a solo century, which I had planned to ride just prior to Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, this coincided with a large snow storm that dropped about a foot and a half of snow on us, which nixed that plan. We’d also wanted to attempt our first 200km ride, but time just got away from us and as the weather turned and days got shorter we knew it was unlikely to complete the goal in 2019.

I had also wanted to do some sort of race on my own this year, but that didn’t come to fruition. Sam, however, raced in Leadville at the Silver Rush 50 MTB and in Flagstaff for the Barn Burner 104.

There were some bicycle exchanges that took place as well. My road bike and mountain bike were sold off and replaced with a different road bike and a gravel bike. I’ve been happy with the change-outs for both bikes, but having only been able to ride them each for a couple of months, I’m reserving final judgement until I have more time. We also sold the Hubbuhubbuh tandem, deciding that because it was really too big for us, it didn’t make sense to keep it. The family who purchased the tandem is thoroughly enjoying it though from what we’ve heard, which made us happy.

Despite the stupid look on my face (and the dirty mirror), I was feeling pretty strong in this photo. As I said in my Insta post at the time, I’m grateful for my thick legs and arms that give me the power to do the things I enjoy… and, yes, for those who’ve inquired, I did chop a significant chunk of hair off late in summer (it’s been nice to have the relief — at least until it grows out again).

Overall, I’m ending the year feeling much stronger than I did at the start. There’s always room for improvement, but it’s the first year in several that I’ve felt truly capable and strong. I’ve still had to deal with injuries and ailments throughout the year, but it seems as though I’ve been able to find a balance between caring for injuries and being able to maintain/meet goals.

Although I’ve experienced some burnout toward the end of the year, on the whole, I’m happy with the way the year has played out. I haven’t made any official plans for next year quite yet, but I’m sure there will be ideas forming before I know it.

I hope you’ve experienced a fantastic year and have been able to achieve many if not all of your goals. Please feel free to share how your year has gone and what you hope to achieve in 2020. Wishing you the very best in the coming year.

Happy New Year!!!!

Autumn Bike Burnout

Every year, there comes a point in the later portion when I find myself struggling to ride my bike. Transportation wise, I continue to ride (at least when possible) but when it comes to riding for sport or fitness, I find that my body is asking for a break. Some days it’s mental burnout, other days it is a physical need for some time away from riding.

This year, I set a goal to ride more miles (excluding transportation miles) than I have any year in the past, so the fall-time burnout came a little earlier than I anticipated. Pushing myself, particularly during the summer to get in longer and/or more frequent rides, pedal more challenging terrain — it took a toll, especially late in the year. My knees, which aren’t great to begin with, were starting to feel the limits I have pushed. I have been tired overall, and there doesn’t seem to be any escaping that reality.

Ultimately, I reached my cycling mileage goal in early October. It surprised me a bit because I had expected that it would be more of a challenge to hit the number, but it quickly became a “how-many-can-I-pedal-now” game, which only intensified the burnout already taking place. The physical issues were taking over too and as my knees began to ache daily, I knew something had to give.

Whether fortunate or not, our snowy, cold weather started earlier than usual this year. While it’s not uncommon to get snow as early as September or October in these parts, generally it melts swiftly and doesn’t produce much more than an inch or two. This year, things have been a little more intense on the weather front. Even as I type, we’re expecting a foot of snow overnight, and it hasn’t been uncommon to see snow each week for the last several weeks.

As is also common for me in the autumn months, I’ve been doing some bike change ups. Two have been sold (with the possibility of a third heading out) and two new have arrived to the biking fold. With only a tad over 500 miles combined on the pair, I’m not quite ready to write about them, but I will say that thus far I am content with the changes that have been made and have done my best to squeeze in rides when time and weather permit.

The new-to-me bikes have probably aided in adding to the burnout I’m experiencing as well. Although it’s exciting to ride new/different bikes, when my body is asking for a break, it wants the break regardless of what I’m pedaling.

As we get closer to the end of November, and prepare to celebrate Thanksgiving here in the US, I am reminded that although I’m not in support of the origination of this particular holiday, I am thankful/grateful for many things – including having the opportunity to even experience cycling burnout.

Although I haven’t done a ton of writing during the latter portion of this year, I have been busy riding, making, working, and carrying on with life’s happenings. It’s been challenging to find time to sit and write about everything, and then it can sometimes feel as though too much time has passed to bother writing. I expect that 2020 is going to bring about some changes and I’m doing my best to prepare both physically and mentally for what may be on the way, and that includes letting my body have a cycling break when needed.

So, to anyone who’s also experiencing a bit of cycling burnout this year, I hope you’re giving yourself a break when needed, allowing your body time to heal as it asks, and remaining grateful that our bodies allow us to continue to ride, walk, run and participate in the many activities life offers. Wishing you and yours a happy, healthy, safe Thanksgiving — that’s free of any type of burnout!

A Century Ride Attempt... Nearly Six Years Later

***I've debated for about a week whether or not I wanted to write about this, but ultimately decided to go ahead. In some ways, it feels unnecessary, but I think in the back of my mind, I want some sort of record of it and my brain seems to misremember details as time goes on. Unfortunately, I didn't take the time for photos during the ride, but here is the tale regardless.***

In 2013, I wrote about my first time riding a century. A few weeks after, Sam and I rode another one together (which was his first century). We both had big plans to do more of them as we rode into the future. For Sam, that was reality (he's ridden many more since then, all much more challenging than that first, and most on a mountain bike). I, however, haven't ridden that distance since then. When I think about it, it's difficult to believe that it's been so long since I've even attempted it -- especially because I really wanted to extend to do a 200k or maybe even a 300k.

Sometimes though, life has other plans. In my case, it started with a domino of bad bike decisions and then having to deal with more significant injuries and other things that seemed to keep popping up. Before I knew it, the only time I was riding was to get around town (not that there is anything wrong with that by any means) and I rarely if ever set out to do concentrated, longer-distance efforts. Over the last couple of years though, I've started to find somewhat of a groove again. It started out slowly, but with the addition of the tandems, I've found it easier to get out and ride like I used to do, even on my own. Though I beat myself up over speed sometimes, I try to remind myself that enjoying the ride is, in the end, more important.

Toward the end of 2018, Sam and I had talked about riding another century together but on the tandem rather than singles. I was somewhat reluctant. The idea seemed a bit much for me, but I also knew that part of having the tandem (for us) was to be able to do longer rides. While we've completed many 50-65 mile rides, I have felt that those distances were really my max for the time being. After all, I'm broken (at least that's what my mind continues to tell me), older, slower, and so on. Couldn't we just be happy with those distances together?

But, there was a part of me that did want to try to ride a 100-mile ride again. I tentatively agreed to do a century ride on the tandem, provided we could come up with a flat (or flat as possible) route. The thing is that living in Colorado it is quite difficult to come up with a route that is a hundred miles long and doesn't involve climbing. So, when we were chatting about possibilities, we came up with the idea of doing a loop-route. Basically, we would find a 20-25 mile route that was flat(ter) and then ride it 4-5 times consecutively.

It seemed brilliant. So, we planned to do the route before winter set in last year. The right time never presented itself, but when spring rolled in, we knew that we wanted to give it a try before all the events and other happenings in life begin to take over. The first weekend in April, we decided it was time.

The night before, I went through my usual couldn't-sleep routine, waking up more times than I could count. I don't know why I get so worked up over distances, especially because this wasn't an event, but rather the two of us simply going for a ride. Maybe it was the history of knowing that I'd been able to ride that distance before and the thought of not being able to do it today would be crushing. I really did wonder if I'd be able to complete the distance and I was concerned about how much discomfort and/or pain I'd have to endure. With the length of time and happenings that have transpired between the last century attempt and this one, it's not unrealistic to think I'd struggle with a long ride today.

The morning of our attempt, I couldn't eat (as is typical), but we had a plan for nutrition along the way. It is one area that I struggle with while doing longer distance rides... we have to eat - something - whether Gu or bananas or some sort of food, but I don't really want to eat actual food most of the time. However, I knew I'd have to have a time/distance plan to consume something in order to complete the ride.

My other struggle is always time. The longer we are out, the worse I feel (probably partially because I don't generally have a good refueling plan in place), so I knew that time was not going to be my friend. We needed to complete the ride as swiftly as we could, without it feeling like we were racing through an event. I had estimated that we'd likely end up around 8 hours of ride time, given that longer rides tend to be significantly slower for us; but I had mentioned to Sam that I would be thrilled if we could come in at around 7-ish hours. He agreed that somewhere around 7-7.5  hours would be fantastic. Obviously, we would not be averaging the speed of many tandem teams or single riders, but we were going to do our best to complete the ride.

We had decided to leave earlier than we normally would for an early spring ride to try to avoid the winds that were supposed to happen that day. The forecast had shown that up until around noon, the winds were supposed to be between 2-4mph, which would be very mild; however, after around noon, the speeds were supposed to increase to up to 16+mph (which means gusts would be much higher). While that's not the worst our winds can be, it's also not horribly fun for me to captain the tandem when it's extra windy, so we thought that if we could avoid the vast majority of the worst part of the wind for the day, that would be great.

As we set out on our first lap, the winds were pretty strong - much stronger than the 2-4mph predicted. We were also dealing with headwinds but figured when we turned around, we'd benefit from the tailwind. Sadly, that didn't happen. Instead, the wind (so famous for doing exactly this) shifted and became a headwind yet again when we turned to head back. It just didn't seem right, but what could we do about it?

This was the lap/loop we had planned for our ride... an out and back, with spots where we could stop, if needed. 

Our first lap went off pretty well, despite the wind trying to throw us off. Our speeds were lower than we had hoped, but I tend to warm up slowly, so I had kind of already figured that the first one wouldn't be our best, at least until closer to the end of it.

We were, however, having a lot of shifting issues. It seemed as though every gear we really wanted to be in was having difficulty, so I was spending a lot of time fussing with gears as we tried to plod along.

I think riding slower than we had wanted on the first lap kind of gave each of us a kick and we picked up the pace for the second lap, still being blasted by the wind which was only getting stronger.

One of the fun things about our route is that it's pretty much a mild climb out so we got a mild descent on the return (not perfectly up or down either direction, but as close as one could really expect). Although each lap only has a minimal amount of climbing, we did all of it during the first 12-13 miles and then got our break for the second half of each lap, which I personally found to be a good motivator. If we got through the mild climbing, then we could really push on the return.

At the end of our second lap, I was already concerned though. We were only about 51(ish) miles in and I was not feeling great. We had definitely traveled faster the second lap, but I was starting to think that I wouldn't be able to make it to the end.

I was pretty concerned about fatigue at the end of lap two. I was holding on to the bike and it just slipped out of my grasp and landed in this spot. Fortunately, I was able to hold it well enough that it didn't fall on any working parts or do any damage. It may be time to put that kickstand on it for just such occasions.

I shared my concern about potentially not being able to finish the ride with Sam but he didn't seem alarmed. On one hand, I appreciated his confidence in me, but on the other, I was a little miffed that he wasn't taking my words with any sort of seriousness.

"You'll be fine," he said.

As I've said, Sam is a man of few words. I hoped he was right and swallowed another Gu pack to try to get my head out of the foggy space it was entering.

One of the bad decisions with our lapping route is that each round we came back by our home. In some sense, it was great to come by the house every 25 miles. Since this wasn't a supported ride, if we needed something, it would be easy to stop and pick up (or drop off) whatever may be needed at home; but on the other hand, we hadn't considered how easy it would make it to give up before finishing. Each time we rounded the corner near our house, I tried to keep focused. If we didn't need to stop, there was no reason to do so.

We began lap three and I told Sam that I was going to try to tell myself that it was our last lap. I figured if I could somehow convince my brain that we were almost through, maybe I could make my body push a little harder. Perhaps it wasn't the wisest move given that I was already feeling lightheaded, but sometimes I just have to play games with myself to make things happen.

When we reached the end of our climbing for that third lap, I remarked to Sam, "Well, we've officially ridden the farthest we've ever ridden on a tandem!" It felt like an accomplishment, even if we still weren't through with the task at hand.

While we continued on, I realized that I actually felt better than I had at the end of the second lap. Weird, I thought, but I was happy that the fog had lifted and that my body was back to cooperating. If we kept up this pace, we would definitely be able to make our goal of 7-7.5 hours.

Our third lap wrapped up even faster than our second, much to our surprise. We've found in the past (at least during "real" events) that 4-lap routes tend to have a pattern... the second is usually faster than the first, the third is slower than the second, but faster than the first, and the fourth is just about getting through the pain and is always the slowest of the laps. It is, of course, what we expected for this unofficial ride too.

As we continued, my body was doing fine and my brain fog had lifted, but I was feeling quite queasy and couldn't figure out why. I had been eating as planned and drinking water, but I still had this weird lump in my throat and that uneasy feeling in my stomach that just wouldn't go away.  I tried drinking more water, but it didn't do much of anything.

We were on our last refuel stop and Sam made a comment about the caffeine in the Gu he was eating when all of a sudden it occurred to me that every Gu pack I'd consumed had caffeine in it. I have fairly high sensitivity to caffeine and try not to have much of it, so it suddenly became clear why I wasn't feeling all that great. Why it hadn't occurred to me prior to consuming half a dozen packets, I have no idea, but the nauseated feeling suddenly made sense (and the crash that happened afterward wasn't all the fun either).

Anyway, we were on our fourth and final lap and we joked briefly about continuing on for a fifth lap, but neither of us was quite ready to actually deal with that and instead just wanted to ensure we could get to the completion of the goal at hand. As we wrapped up our final mild climb and started back on the downhill portion, I realized that we were actually, truly going to be able to finish this ride.

I still felt better at this point than at the halfway point, which was shocking. In fact, we both felt pretty good. We were fatiguing, but neither of us was in pain or felt as though we couldn't carry on -- which was a far cry from the century we'd done a little less than six years ago. We stopped when/where we'd planned, but hadn't spent too much time stopped. We didn't make any unplanned stops either, which I considered a win because I was convinced I'd struggle to make it past the 3/4 point and would need to stop a lot more frequently. There was no whining or 'I can't possibly go on' type of sentiments being expressed (or felt for that matter). It was strange because I've not experienced a 100-mile ride that went this well.

As we closed in on the end of this ride, we realized that unlike what has been typical during lapping routes, we'd actually increased our pace every single lap. Why/how we're still not entirely certain, but the numbers don't lie and we got faster, even as we became more tired.

Sam has an app that tells him what percentages of a ride are headwinds, tailwinds or crosswinds after it's uploaded, and at the end of this 100-miler we learned that we never had a tailwind at any point -- something we knew even before the fancy application confirmed that we hadn't imagined the battle against the elements. Even though we had a pretty flat route, those winds sure made for some interesting moments.

We were still smiling (and upright) at the end of 102 miles, so I guess it wasn't so bad after all. 

Perhaps what I found most memorable about this ride is that it wasn't a big deal. It really did feel as though we were just going out on a typical ride and pedaling through. I expected things to go much worse than they did, I anticipated that we would be pretty slow (because of me), and I really didn't think I'd be able to complete the distance, but it was, as simply as I can put it, uneventful. We ended up finishing with a just slightly over 6.5 hour time, besting what we thought possible... and for an early spring ride, we didn't think that was too bad a job for the two of us on one bike.

We have talked about potentially doing another 100-mile ride later in the year, but we'll see how things play out. Sam has plans for a variety of events, so it may not quite be realistic. Knocking this out early in the season made the most sense and perhaps it will motivate us to do a longer distance at some point as well. We know now that we can get through a hundred miles on the tandem... and that was really the only goal.

Bring on the new year!

It has been a bit of a struggle to write an end of year post, as must be obvious given that we've now entered the new year. Though 2018 wasn't a horrible year by any means for me personally, it's always a challenge to figure out how to sum up the prior months without sounding at least a bit trite and/or making myself somehow feel bad about what I didn't accomplish. Still, I find myself wanting to review a bit and acknowledge both the good moments and the areas that could use improvement in the coming year.

The year did not start off as great as my brain seems to want to recall, but this lack of riding is typical, I suppose, when the weather turns cold and snow is expected. However, there wasn't much snow to contend with, so I suppose this fantasy memory is more a way to mentally deal with my own failure to get motivated by blaming the weather.

February was my absolute worst month of 2018 in regard to both working out and riding. I rode to the gym twice that month (I went to the gym slightly more regularly, but didn't ride there), and that was the extent of my riding for February, sadly. Not even a single tandem ride that month, which, when pointed out to Sam, surprised even him as we both felt like we rode quite a bit during the prior winter. I was also quite sick during this time and that's something I suppose should be accounted for in my lack of activity for February. When feeling near-death, it's difficult to do much of anything (for anyone who went through the rounds of the nasty flu spreading around last year, I'm sure you can identify).

Oddly (though not surprising to me, as I've stated prior that the end of year tends to be a good time for me), December was my best ("best" in this instance being defined as longest amount of time spent doing an activity) month for both working out and riding a bike. Truly, October through December I was in my groove for the year, which gives me hope for 2019, and a glimmer of possibility that things will improve from that point. But, I am also aware that I cannot control the weather, and while I'm willing to brave the cold, I am far too klutzy to venture out on two wheels when ice is covering the roads.

I spent a good portion of the year trying to "figure out" my bike situation. Having sold off several bikes, I was at a bit of a loss as far as which direction to go to settle in on a small group of bicycles that would suit my purposes. Road rides (or dirt ones for that matter) were taken on with my trusty Hillborne for much of the year. I went through a trial with an adventure bike that I believed I could turn into a road bike, which was quite unsuccessful. I also tried out another Rivendell as a road bike and found that it was just too much a duplicate of the one I already own to be practical as a true road steed. Another trial made its way to me later in the year (I'll be writing about that at some point too, but want to spend some additional time with it before sharing more) which helped add to my road mileage for the latter part of 2018.

A mountain bike came into my life during the summer, and while a mountain bike itself is not all that surprising a purchase, the type of mountain bike and the fact that it's been a bike I've truly enjoyed was quite a shock. Riding some technical routes has been an interesting change up to my typical riding habits and hopefully will provide additional strength for all sorts of activities.

Sam and I continued to ride our Hubbuhubbuh tandem throughout the year and even added another tandem to our bikes. We still haven't decided which is our favorite (we've had good and bad rides on both), but we found ourselves doing our best to switch back and forth between the two so that neither is favored over the other. Still, the HHH wins as far as mileage is concerned for 2018 - by far, with about three times as many miles traveled.

Although I usually try to throw in some kind of race or event during the year, the only athletic event that made the list for 2018 was the Fight for Air stair climb in March. I try to throw in at least one event to keep myself in training mode, but the right event just never materialized. I had hoped we would complete one on the tandem too, but I suppose there is time for that in 2019. I suppose we did ride in an ALS fundraiser on St Patrick's Day, but that didn't quite qualify as a true athletic event in my mind.

This is the first year in many that I have felt at all capable. Which is not to say that I am in my prime -- I certainly am not -- but it is the first in several that I have felt the fire inside, that drive to do more and actually had the ability to, at least partially, execute. Whether this is actual, physical improvement to injuries or just a stronger will to push past them, I frankly don't know, but it's been nice to feel things -- strength, good pain, internal changes to my body -- that I haven't felt in some time. This feeling didn't quite get to me until about halfway through the year, but I'm glad it made it and hope that it is a start to build from and that the current year will bring further improvement.

I am doing my best to be cautious with ambitions for the new year. As has been stated in the past, I'm not one for making resolutions this time of year, but I also don't want to sit back and allow excuses or injuries to take hold. I want to set myself up for successful moments, but don't want to become overwhelmed by too much either. It's a tricky balance sometimes to find the right amount of push with an appropriate dosage of rest as well. I can easily be taken in by an all-or-nothing type of thinking, and I don't want that to be the case, especially when it comes to riding.

One of the things I'm grateful for is that riding in adulthood didn't start out as an attempt at racing, as it does for some. I enjoy being on a bicycle because I get to experience sensations that I wouldn't while driving, like smelling bread baking in a shop or seeing the first blooms in spring, and I don't want to lose that side of riding a bike with a desire to go farther or ride faster. It's always important to stop and smell the roses because it's one of the beautiful things about riding. I am continually striving to find the balance between stopping to observe moments and pushing limits, and which side of me wins out on a particular ride seems to be very unpredictable.

I have hopes to write more on the blog this year too. It's slowed down over the last few with life happenings and time just feeling as though it's at a premium. Being able to ride has taken precedence over writing about riding, certainly, and I think most of us can understand that. Still, I want to make time to share and to hear about others adventures, so perhaps the balance in this area will become better in 2019. Only time will tell.

Knowing what is coming this year is not something I can foresee, but I look forward to continuing to ride and enjoy, as I hope you do too. I'd love to hear what others have planned for 2019 as well, so please do share your goals, dreams, and aspirations for the coming year as you see fit.

From the EVL family to yours, wishing you a happy, healthy, and prosperous new year with the most fun riding you've enjoyed yet! Happy New Year! Let's make 2019 a great year!

Goals v. Resolutions & a 2017 Challenge

Resolutions and I are not friends.
Not even a little bit.

*Image found here

In fact, several years ago, I made the very conscious decision to never again make a resolution at the start of a new year, and if I could help it, I would choose not to make any resolutions at all. After so many failed attempts to change something in my life, it felt silly to continue to do this year after year. I do still reflect, and often times I find myself making goals, but I look at goals very differently than I do resolutions.

When it comes to goals, I find that it is perfectly acceptable to make mistakes along the way. A goal is something I want to achieve and work towards with specific steps in mind. If a step is missed somewhere along the way, in my mind, it is simple enough to try again, approach it from a different angle or method, or to modify as I move along. With goals, I feel flexibility and believe that I have options along the way if my original point isn't attainable or needs some adjustment.

When I make a resolution, I am telling myself that it is a firm and unchanging destination point; so, if mistakes are made along the way, it feels somewhat easy to give up on it entirely. Take a look at any gym in early January versus early February. The numbers definitely decrease in just those few weeks because people resolved that they would go to the gym every day, and then when they miss a day or two, often times the thought of failure kicks in and some, perhaps many, give up entirely. I have witnessed this year after year first hand as I watch the masses come in during the first couple of weeks in January, only to disappear before winter comes to an end.

If my distinction between goals and resolutions just seems like semantics, I understand, but look at the definitions of the two words:

- goal: (noun) the object of a person's ambition or effort; an aim or desired result.
- resolution: (noun) a firm decision to do or not to do something.

One just feels as though it has flexibility built in, while the other appears to have hard and fast lines to which one must adhere.

With that, I started this particular new year lacking any thought of resolutions or goals. Admittedly, I had a lot on my mind, so I wasn't particularly focused when January 1 hit. Still, I wanted to make some sort of goal for the year, even if it seemed silly or small, so, with about a week left in January, I decided that my goal for the remainder of the year would be simple: Ride a bicycle somewhere every remaining day of the year.

There are no stipulations regarding distance or time, nor where I have to go, but the goal is to go somewhere on a bicycle every day (even if it's just around the corner). I understand that doesn't seem like much of a goal, but for a person who works from home, I can go multiple days without need to leave the house. In winter and cold months, I find it even easier to put things off and then combine trips into one day. I do leave for one reason or another throughout the day, but it isn't necessarily on a bicycle, so my hope with this goal is not to create a situation in which I dread going out, but rather one for which I look forward to time outdoors. If history is any indicator, the more frequently I ride, the more I will want to ride.

I understand that there will be challenges and that in truth, the day will come when I likely won't be able to get out on a bicycle for one reason or another, but I do look forward to the challenge to see how many days I'll be able to accomplish for the remainder of the year.  My hope is that knowing that I'll be sharing here, I'll remember to take more photos (I don't know why this is always an issue for me, but it seems to be the case). The plan is to share reports once a month here. I need some sort of accountability, or it's too easy for me to wander off and forget my goal. We'll see how things move along (I may need more frequent check-ins).

Because I only had a week of every day riding for January (I did ride several days earlier in the month, but I wasn't tracking it at all, so I will simply start with the day I began to consciously track rides), there isn't much to report, but here goes!

Day 1 (1/25)
3.6 miles
Bicycle: Rivendell Hillborne
Rode to the gym. I was almost run over by an elderly woman in a Buick who didn't see me. I noted that despite having pretty warm winter days thus far, there's still a substantial amount of ice in the bike lanes and in the gutter portion of roads. My hands froze because I wore inappropriate gloves (as usual).

Day 2 (1/26)
0.8 miles
Bicycle: Velo Orange Campeur
This was a short ride - a very short ride. I walked to the bike shop to pick up the Campeur that was getting cleaned and tuned up (trying to give Sam a break from tuning bikes). Just a short little test to get it home.

Day 3 (1/27)
3.6 miles
Bicycle: VO Campeur
Rode to the gym again. It is easy to get these rides in when I have a purpose, but I don't always want riding to the gym to be the only place I go. Still, I'm cutting myself some slack as I start this in the midst of winter, albeit a pretty warm one for the most part thus far (hope that's not a jinx).

Day 4 (1/28)
3.6 miles
Bicycle: VO Campeur
Rode to the gym. We had a busy day in front of us and I knew this would likely be the only time I would have to ride. It was pleasant (sunny), but very cold. Even Sam said his hands were frozen when we arrived. Of course, leaving early in the morning doesn't help matters this time of year.

Viewed at a recently-renovated older house, I thought this idea could be useful in our own yard.

Day 5 (1/29)
3.4 miles
Bicycle: Riv Hillborne
Another busy day; however, there was an open house I wanted to see, so while Sam was starting on one of our projects, I pedaled over to take a look. Open houses seem to be a hobby for us over the last few years. I think we need a new pastime in all honesty, but we can't seem to stop ourselves from looking. Usually, we peek in simply because housing prices have skyrocketed locally over the last couple of years and we have a kind of morbid fascination with seeing what becomes available, but this time, there was actually something in the backyard that I thought might be interesting in our own yard (pictured in the photo above).

(left) Dropping package at the post office; (middle) Several unused bike racks at the grocery store; (right) FixIt station at the grocer.

Day 6 (1/30)
8.0 miles
Bicycle: VO Campeur
I had a package that needed to be dropped at the post office and the house was lacking any sort of food, so I decided to combine the two trips. There's some construction taking place around the roads of the market I was headed to, so I knew getting home would be a bit found in a roundabout manner, but it turned out okay. I also had a photo op with the multitude of empty bike racks outside the grocer and took note of both the pump for bicycles and tools available. I thought it was pretty cool (and should be a note to other retailers in the area)! I will also add that riding a few miles with about 25 pounds of groceries was interesting. It's not something I've done for awhile and it took a minute for my balance to readjust. Thankfully, the VO is pretty stable, so we made it home just fine. It's unfortunate that the trip home was uphill loaded with the groceries, but it obviously didn't kill me as I lived to write about it. :)

Day 7 (1/31)
0.5 miles
Bicycle: Riv Hillborne
A last minute chiropractic appointment took me on a very, very brief ride. In fact, I sometimes walk instead of riding a bike because it's just that close. But, because the day was full of many obligations, I knew this would likely be all the riding I would see for the day, and I was correct. Unfortunately, I was informed that I have bursitis in my hip (how old am I anyway???), so that should be a (not very) fun addition to my list of ailments to deal with as we move into February.

A mere 23.5 miles is the grand tally for January (well, the last week of January, since I wasn't logging prior to then). The good news is that I should be able to top it fairly easily in February. The distance certainly wasn't earth shattering, but again, mileage is not the goal. I have decided not to count any pedaling on the bike trainer (while it may help cardiovascular fitness and/or muscle memory, I want to actually be outside to ride), and even though I walk fairly often, I won't be counting those miles either.

What plans or goals have you set for yourself this year? Are things off to a good start? Also, if you'd like to keep tabs on what's going on during the month, I'm going to do my very best to take at least one photo on each ride (I wasn't entirely successful with that piece for my short stint with January), and I'll share them on Flickr here, should you have interest.

Of Molehills and Mountains

The last few weeks, I have found myself in a very reflective state which also seems to coincide with the inability to look at things with any sort of detachment or objectivity. Sometimes, this happens because I'm attempting to protect my reflective period and what comes from it, and other times it just seems to just be what it is - whether good or bad.

There is an ebb and flow to these feelings and while I am always aware of my emotions there are times when I find it impossible to write anything here that is in any way technical. These are the days when I find myself thinking on where I have been, where things are going, and how I intend to get to a given point.

What I have noticed during this time is that there is a correlation between my processing and how I face rides. When I'm focused and able to take on the particulars of a subject, I concentrate my energy while riding and feel confident in climbing and even pushing myself in regard to speed. I believe myself able to tackle anything that is put in my path and while I am aware that I'm not much faster than any other day, somehow I feel and think myself more capable.

The opposite is also true. When I'm not feeling mentally up-to-par, I find myself defeated before I've even started. In fact, sometimes I don't even bother to start because I'm convinced that I will just end up a quivering pile on the side of the road. Logically, I know this isn't true, but it's easy to convince myself otherwise when I've dug myself into a mental hole.

This has been a rough season in regard to cycling. Not only have I faced physical challenges that I didn't want to deal with, but I've had a lot of bike/mechanical/fit issues to contend with and it's created a mild amount of depression. Pulling out of those darker thoughts some days is challenging, but if I have learned anything from riding a bicycle it is that choosing to do nothing will in no way help matters.

As we near the end of August, I can feel my insides craving some sort of challenge. I can sense that doing nothing significant this year is eating at me, tearing at my self-worth.  I haven't climbed any ridiculous mountains, I haven't chased any sort of personally unattainable distance, and in fact, I haven't even scheduled or registered for any event at all this year.

Several days ago, I told Sam that I wanted to go and ride Rebecca's Private Idaho. It's an absolutely ludicrous thought because I haven't ridden more than 40 miles in a stretch at all this year, and those "longer" rides have felt like torture, having need to stop every 3-5 miles to work out pains and problem spots. More recently, a long ride is somewhere in the vicinity of about 20 miles. As stated, this definitely hasn't been an all-star year, and it is obvious that I am in no physical shape to take on a major challenge.

Still, I have this urge to attempt a ride that seems insurmountable. I haven't quite decided if the reasoning is simply because I believe I've missed out on too much and want to make up for it, or because I have some sort of sick desire to prove myself incapable of completing a big venture in my current state.

I've pretty well decided that Rebecca's Private Idaho isn't happening. It's too close in time to the Leadville extravaganza and there is much that needs attention here at home which doesn't really allow for several more days away so close to our last departure. Not to mention that there is a ridiculous amount of climbing involved for someone who hasn't pedaled uphill much at all this year.

With all of the pondering though, I realize my great capacity to turn little things into big, and vice versa, depending on my frame of mind.

On one hand, I try to allow myself some leeway, some kindness in dealing with persistent injuries. It's the part of me that understands that healing takes time and pushing things physically isn't always the right option.

On the other side, I question why I don't push harder and simply deal with the pain. After all, there are those in far worse situations than me. I cannot help but feel somewhat like a failure for not being able to drive myself to do the things that are more challenging at present.

In spite of the mental battles that often take place, I am so thankful to still be riding. I may not be taking on the challenges I'd hoped to face this year, but there is time enough for all of these things. My body is slowly healing and I'm finding ways to stretch distance on the bike when things aren't quite so painful. Who knows? I may still get to one of those ambitious goals yet this year.

(Anti)Plan of Attack

Throughout the winter season I became frustrated with my lack of riding time. As spring drew closer, I started fantasizing about never getting off of a bicycle. In practicality, I understood that wasn't a possibility. There are aspects of life outside of riding that require time every day, not to mention the fact that I'd spent at least a couple of months nowhere close to touching a bicycle through the coldest part of the winter season.

An awareness that my muscles had lost all but the most minimal strength became a quick realization. How on earth would I continuously ride a bicycle for any length of time when traveling a couple of miles into town seemed to find me just on the brink of muscle failure? To my complete dismay, this is only a slight amplification of the truth.

As I continued to think on all of this and ride only occasionally, the Errandonnee event arrived. It was a perfect opportunity to continue to ride short distances and to test any sort of theories about riding a bike forever. Forever is a long time though, and because I am extremely cranky without sleep, I continued to adapt my plan for continuous riding into thoughts that seemed more reasonable.

I had also made claims regarding riding every street within my home community, and had not announced but had been plotting a way to ride at least a 20 mi/32 km continuous ride for 30 straight days. Perhaps not the loftiest of goals, but it seemed a good way to warm into the season. I had waffled back and forth between that idea and doing 6 centuries over the course of 30 days, but I figured my muscles hadn't seen the work they should have over winter, so it was better to stick with the daily, shorter distance rides. Though it would tax my mental fortitude, it made more sense strength- and endurance- wise for the time being.

My ability to ride daily was tested with just short distances around town for about a week and a half. This activity didn't bother me a bit, so it seemed completely reasonable that I should, in all likelihood, be able to complete 30, 20-mile days in a row.

Soon, April arrived and I was reminded that it is the official month when lots of people on bicycles commit to 30-days of riding. This should have made my personal commitment that much easier, but for some reason, it did not. Instead, I have found myself feeling the mental strain of trying to create a schedule to follow.

There is a very real possibility that you, dearest reader, are one of many people who prefer to have a schedule or a plan of action, but there's something about making a formal plan that causes everything to go awry.

Instead of looking forward to riding, it is easier to put off starting. As soon as I believe I have a plan of attack, I start to second guess it - which is precisely why I prefer not to plan things at all. If I have no time to think about it, there's really no reason to put off a task. Plus, I find that I do much better when I just wake up on any non-specific day and do something that seems ridiculous. Ludicrous behavior and planning just don't seem to mix well in my experience.

The irony of it all is that I have been riding nearly every day for a couple of months now, but as soon as a label or idea is put to the miles pedaled it becomes a kind of chore or I lose interest in what is supposed to be the main focus. When I feel some level of pressure to commit to a particular "thing" it all seems to come unraveled.

As I attempted to begin the 30, 20-mile days of riding, it didn't last long. It was almost as though putting a specific to my pedaling jinxed the entire process. It isn't that I could not or cannot start again, but I've come to the conclusion that any time I try to plan something, it never seems to quite go well.

What is most interesting is that spring seems to bring out in me this compulsion to make goals and plans for the "riding season." I cannot seem to help myself, despite my knowledge that the planning itself is often the demise of the entire goal. I understand that setting goals, making plans, and even sharing all of it to keep myself accountable are all more likely to result in a positive outcome, but it rarely seems to work in my favor.

In my experience, it almost seems to come together when I have a loose idea with no specific time frame and I simply happen to accomplish the goal without even truly realizing what has happened. I almost view it as a way of fooling myself into believing I'm not going to complete a given activity, but then working toward it all along.

I do realize how crazy this must sound. I also understand that on some subconscious level, I must comprehend that it is a form of goal setting, but my brain and body seek out ways to keep the process fun because I know how bored I can get with routine (which is a reality of working toward any goal - routine/repetition is necessary).

Feasibly I cannot ride continuously, forever on a bicycle, but the idea of it is still something that captures a thought in my mind every now and again. Maybe I will complete riding every street in my city, I'll ride 30 days of 20-miles, end up doing the 6 centuries in 30 days instead, or it may be something else entirely. For me, not really knowing (even if the idea is there) is part of the enjoyment.

Perhaps one future spring season will arrive and I will come to grips with the idea that I simply have a different way of going about goal-setting. Until then, I'll likely continue to convince myself that I can set goals and follow logical steps to get to an end point. But, then again, maybe the self-mind games are half the fun?

Happy Valentine's Day & A Bicycle Goal

First, and perhaps most importantly, a very happy Valentine's Day to all! I hope you have plans to spend it pedaling, but I know that many areas are currently experiencing deep snow and cold temperatures, so regardless I hope you'll spend it with one or many individuals you love.

*Image from Loveland Chamber of Commerce & found here

As mentioned recently, both riding a bike and kickboxing have taken a hit with our current house project. Only in the last week or so have things begun to get back to something that resembles a normal schedule. Oh, there is still much to be done, but both Sam and I have realized that we won't survive this renovation if we don't allow ourselves some time to do the things that we enjoy and/or simply need to do.

With that, I recently returned to kickboxing to discover that the owner-instructors have implemented some new things in the hope of helping their students achieve personal goals.

*Image found here

I have stated in the past that I am not a New Year's resolution sort of person, and I stand by that statement. I know that goals and having specific, attainable steps of a goal are important in order for growth to take place, but I don't find the new year to be a particularly good time to set these up for myself. Really, I find that I struggle with setting goals at many points throughout the year because I often am not entirely sure of what it is that I actually want to achieve. Then, frustration follows, so it's often much easier to simply move on to other projects and not bother with such things.

Imagine my dismay (horror?) when approached by one of the kickboxing instructors who wanted me to define a goal (or goals) for 2015. More accurately, he stated that he wanted to meet with me outside of class to discuss these goals. Ugh. I was definitely not looking forward to this meeting. In fact, I pretty well had myself worked up into a tizzy about all of it because I honestly didn't even know where to begin or what would seem a reasonable goal.

I am not a racer, and I'm not going to ever in my life come close to a winning time at any sort of race - be that on foot, bicycle, or otherwise. So, what sort of goal does one set? I've attempted these sort of goals in the past, but rarely do they end well.

As the two owner-instructors and I sat staring at each other, they tried desperately to pull anything out of me. They know I ride a bike, but they also know that I have no desire to enter races. One asked if I'd have interest in doing "mud runs," to which I responded that I don't run (As a side note, I do run, but again, it's very slow and I have no real desire to be a part of any sort of race of this sort. I ran a marathon once and have no desire to do it again, so my running is limited to around the neighborhood and possibly a few miles on a treadmill in the winter when I can't do the things I'd rather be doing).

I have toyed with the idea of doing my own version of a half Ironman triathlon, but the reality is that my body is not well-suited for running, so I don't know that it would be the best choice for me.

After several minutes of successfully avoiding the topic, one of the instructors said, "What if you rode every street in the city on your bike." I couldn't help but giggle a bit as I had planned already to do this. In fact, I'd wanted to do it last year, but it just never happened. "Okay," I agreed. After which they proceeded to tell me that I'd need to map out my plan and figure out a deadline. Argh. It's as if they don't know me at all. G.E. doesn't plan things - she just does (or doesn't, as is more often the case).

Not wanting to actually have to calculate how many road miles there are in our city, I called up the Public Works office and was directed to a gentleman who informed me that there are approximately 334 "center line" miles in our incorporated city.

Fair enough. The problem is in the details, however.

There are several unincorporated areas for which he was unable to provide an exact number of miles. These roads are also spread all over the city, so, would I want to include these areas in a bike riding goal or not? I had a good starting point as far as mileage, but I knew the plan would have to be sketched in some other manner. Perhaps, by neighborhood.

*Image found here

I happened to come across the interactive neighborhood map pictured above online and thought perhaps that would be a better way to map out the intended rides. The problem is not the 334 miles - I can definitely cover that distance over a number of rides without issue. My biggest concern was exactly where to start and stop the overall big picture ride, and secondly, realizing how slow the riding is going to be because the majority of it will be in neighborhoods.

Additionally, I'd need to find something of interest in each ride, otherwise, it will feel pointless and as though I was merely spinning in circles without end. After my experiment last year with riding a few neighborhoods, I know precisely how nauseating it can become to ride around endless neighborhoods without purpose.

There are also details in regard to how long this sort of adventure could take. I was informed that there is a man who walked all of the city streets in the past, but it should be a bit faster on wheels, I'm thinking. I also don't know if it would make more sense to block out a chunk of time daily over a period of time to ride, or if it is more logical to do longer rides once a week over a stretch of time.

Knowing that I can become distracted once I lose interest, my suspicion is that I need to complete the goal as quickly as possible from start to finish, so whether that means shorter rides every day or longer rides spread out with a bit more gap, I'm not entirely sure, but your thoughts are always welcome.

Pretty much to sum this all up, I haven't come up with an exact plan yet for the rides, but I did want to share that there will more than likely be reports coming (I'm just not sure how soon they'll come) as I move forward with this plan as a way to document what is taking place. If you have any ideas on how to keep myself excited about this project or things to look for along the way, I'd be happy to hear about that as well.

In the meantime, I hope you're able to enjoy a bit of time riding, and again, a very Happy Valentine's Day to all!

Summer of Climbing: Climb "8,800 feet" in 9 days

The summer of climbing has gone a little differently than anticipated. By now, I expected to have conquered ridiculous mountains and to suddenly be proclaiming myself a lover of all things slanted upward. That has not happened. Not even close. The more I try to convince myself that the only way climbing is going to improve is to actually do the work, the less I want to get on a bike and go in an upward direction. It's almost as though my proclamation has been working against me. Blasted proclamations!

Then, as if Strava could somehow read my mind, a nine-day challenge appeared before me. This 9-day challenge was simple: climb at least 8,800 feet in that slightly over a week time frame. It's a lot - or at least a good chunk of - climbing in just over a week, at least I thought, but if I focused and actually did what I keep saying I'm going to do, it shouldn't be too painful...

I should say more accurately that it wouldn't have been horribly painful if the 8,800 feet was actually the challenge.

*Image from Strava

No, no, dearest pals, that was not the challenge at all. Apparently my feeble mind cannot tell the difference between the word "feet" and the word "meters," and so, I would soon come to realize that in fact I had signed myself up for a challenge that in no way could I ever accomplish. The 8,800 "feet" I thought the challenge would be, was actually 8,800 meters (so, for the record, just shy of 29,000 feet - though all of you non-metric-challenged and able-to-read-English-words readers already knew that).

How a human being that doesn't ride 10 hours a day is supposed to climb 8,800 meters in 9 days is beyond me... but, there are many who (as I would learn) are quite capable, and even far surpassed the challenge. As in, some did 5-7 times that amount. Seriously, what are these people? Mountain goats? In all reality, I have to question when Strava will have a challenge for us mere mortals and/or that doesn't rank us based on what pro or elite riders are out doing.

So, anyway, I was plotting out how I was going to get my 8,800 feet (or so I presumed) in 9 days. I had some routes planned, but when I realized the challenge was more than three times that distance, I immediately started mentally - which led to physical - slacking. The first day of the challenge, I didn't ride at all. Nor did I ride the second, third or fourth days of the challenge. I think I rode to the store during that first four days at some point, but that was about the extent of my time on a bike. What fun would it be if I didn't make it completely impossible to even come anywhere close to meeting the challenge? By day 5, I realized that I needed to do something or I wouldn't even get in 100 feet of climbing.

I can see how some would think, "Why would you even bother if you know there's no chance of completing the required climbing meters?" and I would answer them by saying that, in its simplest, I truly have a screw loose. Obviously, by day five, I knew there was no chance of getting 8,800 meters of climbing on a bike. I mean, who am I kidding? There's no way I'm going to climb close to 6k feet a day for five days straight.

Instead, I plotted ways in which I could torture myself needlessly. At the base of our old town area, there are several streets running north and south with hills that climb (or that descend if going in the opposite direction... which, I highly recommend for some down hill fun). Each is only one block and I wondered how many times I could circle one of these blocks without becoming both completely sick of the track-like path I'd be making and if my legs would make it up these hills more than twice.

Typically, I avoid these hills like the plague. If I have to go up any of them even once on a ride I am cranky, breathing hard, and whining that I should just walk up the stupid hill instead of trying to ride it. Of course, that's generally at the end of a ride when I'm tired. So, what if I just made the one-block climb the ride?


Ah, brilliant! I was pretty sure it would be a short ride, but I tried to tell myself that I could do it at least 5 times. Five rounds didn't seem so bad if it was all I would have to do.

I should say, these aren't long hills. Just a typical, neighborhood block. The grade runs between 4-13% (depending on the spot on the hill and which street one chooses to climb), but the total feet climbed is somewhere around 45-60 feet (again, depending on the street). So, if I could complete 5 laps, that would give me somewhere around 225 feet. Okay, I realize this isn't even kind of close to what I would need for the climbing challenge, but still, 225 feet for something that's probably a total of about a mile or two at most is pretty good, I think.

My first round didn't go quite as expected. I was on the Hillborne (which has a triple crank and mountain gearing - see, I did use my noggin' a little bit) and I couldn't get it to shift from the middle ring to the bottom. As I struggled to fight my way to the top for round one, I just.... couldn't...... quite......... get there. So, I stopped, got off the bike, picked up the rear end, turned the pedals a few times, and it shifted. The next lap went better and I had no trouble shifting when needed. By the time I was on my 5th round, I decided I would attempt to do 10 laps and then call it done.

A funny thing happens on a short loop like this though. It's really, really easy to lose count - especially for someone like me who's easily distracted by shiny things... or furry things... or old things.... or rusty things... or, well, you get the gist. I'd start to question myself... was that lap 6 or 7... 7 or 8... 8 or 9? So, I'd end up doing another one because I wasn't sure.

Now, a smarter person would keep better track, particularly knowing how much she despises climbing - and specifically these short hills. But, I didn't. I was trading off between two different streets for the uphill portions and coming down the third street, but my mind would become easily muddled. Additionally, I'm fairly certain anyone who was home on the streets during this experiment was pretty sure I am completely insane. I have to admit, it did look (and feel) a bit wacky.

Then, I started noticing something with my GPS. As soon as I'd get about half way up one of the hills, the incline percentage would change to 0%. The problem with this reading is that at no point on these hills is it flat. The reading struck me as odd the first time, but I figured there may have been a temporary malfunction. Soon, I realized it was happening every time I'd ride up. Whether this affects the final results, I'm not entirely sure. I know GPS' cannot be 100% accurate, but at the same time, I still haven't found an answer regarding whether the unit's reading is what is used, or something else entirely (like satellite information, etc).

By the time I'd finished what I believed to be 10 laps, I thought I could complete a couple more, so I went for it. Why not? My legs were definitely starting to quiver, however, so I knew I was close to the end whether I liked it or not.

Ultimately, I ended up doing 17 laps (so much for accurate counting), which (according to the reading I got at home), put me at just over 850 feet (approx. 260 meters) climbed over 8 miles. I'm still not entirely sure if the GPS picked up everything, but regardless, it was a decent amount for such a short distance. Obviously, nowhere near the amount I needed for this type of challenge, but I think it was an interesting - if not slightly moronic - means of getting in some climbing without "wasting" the mileage on flatter terrain. Because, you know, heaven forbid I actually put in more mileage.

As the challenge wrapped up, I came shy of hitting 1,000 meters (it was about 3,000 feet) of climbing. Of course, I also hadn't given myself a very good chance at coming close given that I waited until half way through to even start and didn't even ride each of the last five days. A lesson learned, certainly. Considering I only went on three challenge-specific rides, I didn't think it was so bad, but it certainly didn't come close to being the climbing challenge I'd wanted. Of course, the participant (aka me) has to do the work for the challenge in order to make it beneficial. There are also better ways of getting in climbing, such as simply heading directly for the mountains; but I learned that if time is of concern, there are ways to practice climbing close to home and without spending hours out on the road. I also understand that while not the weakest participant (read: not last place) in the Rapha Rising challenge, I should be thoroughly ashamed of myself - mostly for lack of effort. I live at the base of some of the greatest places to climb on a bike in the world, and I didn't take advantage of it at all.

Even though the challenge is over, I will likely continue to use these in-town hills as training once in awhile. Although slightly nauseating to use in a track format, it's an easy (well, easier) way to get in climbing when I don't have a lot of time to spare.  Additionally, the mountains are at my disposal and the summer is still fairly young, so there's hope for me yet. I may not have met the specific challenge goals, but perhaps I just needed a bit of failure to realize that I can do it (maybe not this specific challenge - but my own version of it) if I set my mind and body in appropriate motion.

Unlikely Goals

The last several months have had me deep in thought. I've been pondering many different aspects of life, but there's one thing that keeps poking at me, no matter how hard I try to ignore it. Sometimes it's difficult for me to share future hopes for physical-related goals because deep down I often think that I am incapable of achieving whatever ridiculousness it is that gets stuck in my head. I am not an athlete and I never have been, so to attempt some of the more challenging goals seems often a bit far-fetched. However, last year I wrote about my desire to complete my first century ride and I did finish, so I think actually writing about the goal helped me visualize getting to the end point. In particular, knowing that I had stated I would finish it before the end of summer made me set goals along the way. Here I am again, not really feeling capable, but knowing that there is a goal I want to achieve before summers' end this year.

*Image here

In summary, I want to complete a half Ironman triathlon. That would be a total of 70.3 miles, divided up as a 56 mile bike ride, a 13.1 mile run, and a 1.2 mile swim. I have no question that individually, assuming that I had properly trained, I could do any of these things but combined into one? Well, I am more than concerned about completing such an endeavor. For starters, running outside tears me up. If I run more than about 3 miles outdoors, my knees are shot, my back cripples me (both of these are due to previous injuries that have ongoing ramifications), and I am not sure that it would be the wisest decision to put my body through this sort of test, particularly knowing that I would likely be unable to function for several days or more. So, I had an idea. I didn't do my first century as an organized ride, so why would I feel compelled to sign up for an official half Ironman? My thought was to swim at a local pool for the 1.2 miles, ride my bike the 56 miles, and run on a treadmill for the 13.1 miles to complete my own version. Sort of an "E.V.L. unofficial half ironman" type of deal. It feels a bit like cheating I must admit, but at the same time, I'm not looking to compete with other people and this is really only for myself, so why not try it in a way that won't completely destroy my body? Plus, I wouldn't have to worry about having someone throw me off the course if it takes longer than the allotted time.

In order to take on this challenge, however, I need to seek some medical attention for my back. I have put off (for many years) visiting a doctor for assistance, but in order to reach my goals, I know that I need to be at my best. When I found myself nearly crippled at the end of 2013, I realized that just resting a bit isn't doing what it used to do for me. I have to get help. I was in a kickboxing class over the last couple of weeks and I found myself unable to do even a single push-up without searing pain that brought me to tears. I don't want to continue to live with this sort of agony if there is a means to remedy (even partially) the problems. I have no reason not to visit a doctor (well, I do, but nothing that will physically harm me to keep me from going), and as much as I am fighting it, I know deep down that the only chance I have to not only complete an endeavor like the one I'm thinking about, but even to maintain my current workout schedule, is to find some type of assistance.

I have no idea what sort of journey I am in for at this moment. I could find out that there is nothing to be done and I will simply have to deal with the pain associated with the injuries. But, if there is a possibility of having even a small portion of the pain gone, I think I owe it to myself to at least give it a shot. I have big dreams and goals for 2014, and I would like an opportunity to even come close to accomplishing a piece of them.