Surviving Venus de Miles

For the last five summers, I have signed myself up to do a local ride called Venus de Miles. If you've read here for some length of time, you are probably already aware that this ride seems to be my Achilles' heel when it comes to cycling. It's not that the ride is physically difficult or horribly challenging for me by this point in the season (though that hasn't always been true), but more so that something always seems to go wrong just before the event. Historically, this "something" is generally that I end up on a different bicycle than intended due to last minute problems or shenanigans with adjustments. This year, my issues had nothing to do with bicycles, but instead shifted to my actual well-being.

*Logo from Venus de Miles

I found myself getting ill the Sunday before the ride, which I believed had given me plenty of time to rest and recover from a round with a cold and flu, but that is not what the universe had in store for me this year. Instead, I went to bed the night before the ride wondering if I would have the lung capacity and energy to get through even a few miles of riding.

When I woke Saturday morning, I could feel the congestion in my lungs and I had no energy, despite having gone to sleep at a very reasonable hour. The first question Sam had for me was, "So, how are you feeling? Are you going to ride?" It was a fair question, but I honestly didn't have a response at that moment. "I'm going to take it one step at a time," I said. "I'm going to try eating something and see how that goes first." Sam understood and went about his own stuff for the morning.

Despite enjoying variety and change in life, there is one aspect that I keep very routine - and that is breakfast. Unless we are having a rare morning meal out somewhere, I have the same thing every day:  half a cup of oatmeal with a scoop of protein powder and a tablespoon of chia seeds. It's a little strange that this is one of the only routines I have in my life, but it seems to work for me and keeps me energized to do what I need to do. The problem on this particular morning was nerves. I still didn't know if I was going to ride, but I was making myself sick with either decision. As I attempted to spoon in my oatmeal concoction, I couldn't seem to actually get it down, so after a few bites, I gave up and went to brush my teeth.

As I brushed, I started to cry. I cry a lot, so some tears shouldn't be news to anyone, but I was really feeling screwed no matter what I chose in regard to doing this event. This is the only organized ride I've been involved with this year and will likely be the only one I'll complete for 2014, so the idea of not being able to ride, even knowing how sick I was feeling, was tearing me up.  I'd also had a conversation with my mother the afternoon before my tooth-brushing, tear-saga and she put things about as aptly as anyone when she said, "Why would you do this ride if you're sick? I always thought you were a smart person, but obviously you are really quite stupid."

Okay, granted my mother is not a cyclist. In fact, she doesn't do much of anything that's active. She used to compete in swimming relays in high school, but that was a very long time ago. Any sort of push within her or competitive spirit seems to have died out long ago. Frankly, she just doesn't understand why I do most of the things that I do. Still, her voice was haunting me as I blubbered over my toothpaste. Maybe I was being stupid to even consider the idea of riding? Even though I'd done my best to rest for the couple of days prior, my body obviously was not ready to take on anything more than a walk back to bed.

At this point, Sam had mozied out to the bike-pen to air up my tires, oil my chain, and make sure that things looked alright for go time. I could hear him rustling with various items, and I still didn't know what I was doing, so I decided to just start getting dressed to ride. As I dressed, I told myself that it wouldn't hurt anything to try to do the ride. I could always go and if things turned ugly, it would be simple enough to make a phone call for a rescue ride. This seemed to give me some comfort, and so I carried on preparing water bottles and other paraphernalia for the ride.

When Sam came back in he said, "I checked out both bikes in case you changed your mind. You are still going to ride the IndyFab, right?" Ah, he knows me well. You see, I'd been debating whether to ride the Hillborne or the newer Crown Jewel. I've recently spent a lot more time in the saddle of the Hillborne, but I knew deep down that the Crown Jewel would be much easier to get some speed going and I could likely finish in a faster time (assuming that I was comfortable). Speed would obviously be a benefit to a person not feeling her best, but at that moment, I honestly wasn't sure what I was doing. I paused a bit but ended up replying, "Yeah, I'm taking the IndyFab. Thanks for getting both bikes ready though." In the back of my mind I was remembering my last ride on the Crown Jewel, and it wasn't giving me great mental comfort. I sighed to myself and suddenly realized that I was less than a half hour away from start time.  Fortunately for me, I'm a ten minute bike ride from the start line... but I knew I had to pick up the pace.

In an instant I decided to stick with the Crown Jewel decision and Sam pedaled over with me to the starting area of the ride. We arrived just a moment before the national anthem began, which meant that I had no time to linger; this ride was getting ready to start. I could see the line of women was very long behind the start line. Sam suggested that I go and get in line, so we said our goodbyes and I headed over. I was not in the best of moods and the idea of spending hours surrounded by happy, healthy, laughing, and highly unaware women was not appealing to me at that moment.

You see, the good and the bad of this ride is just that - that it's a ride and not a race. A good chunk of the women who sign up get their friends together and use it as social time (nothing wrong with that), but it also means that many seem to forget they are on open roads with hundreds (or thousands) of other people on bicycles - and in cars. Call me the buzz kill, but when some choose to ride four abreast, oblivious to the fact that they are not the only ones on the roadways, I can get annoyed. Some get involved in their own conversations and don't listen when they are asked to be considerate of motorized traffic or to announce themselves when passing other cyclists too. But, the worst of them all (in my mind) are those who decide that it is in fact a race and who choose to come blazing past everyone at the start when the crowd is still dense and moving slowly.

I didn't have the luxury of concerning myself with any of them though as I was well aware that time was not my friend on this ride. Being ill meant that if I had any intention of actually finishing, I needed to push to get through it as quickly as I could. The problem was that I couldn't breathe. My lung capacity was minimal and breathing was short and shallow. Every time I attempted a deeper breath, coughing would begin and continued for several minutes. Of course, this made pushing at all a challenge.

The first seven miles were climbing. Not horrible I'm-never-going-to-make-it-up-this climbing, but climbing none the less, and when one cannot breathe, believe me it feels far worse than the actual 500 feet of ascent it was. The good news for me, however, is that I know this route and I know it well. They are roads (with the exception of one) that I travel fairly frequently, so I knew exactly what to expect. It also meant that I could plan the day and my energy to use in places that would require more of me. As I made it to the peak of that first seven miles, I knew I had a bit of downhill to enjoy.

I love this little piggy who is a popular little man out on the back roads locally.

All of the riders that had passed me while climbing got a glance at my backside again as I flew past. "Gotta take advantage while gravity's on my side," I'd smile as I passed a large group of cyclists who'd overtaken me on the previous climb as though I'd been standing still. "Passing on your left," became a common announcement too. It felt awesome to be going more than 10 mph and not be struggling to breathe. At around mile 9, my reprieve ended and rolling hills took over for about 7 more miles, followed immediately by a 4 mile steady, but reasonable climb. I knew I had about 10 more miles to go before I'd hit the aid station where I'd pre-determined to stop for a little breather.

In reality, there had already been two aid stations, but I'd chosen not to lose time by stopping. Not to mention, it seemed ridiculous to me to stop at mile 10 when I was just getting warmed up, and even sillier to have another aid station just 7 miles down the road. I knew, however, that the third aid station at mile 30 was the last on this route and I would have to take advantage of it to make it to the finish. As I got closer to that mile marker, I looked to the other side of the road and saw Sam heading in the opposite direction on his bike. I yelled out, "Hey!" as I watched him spin around and sprint to catch up to me.

"I don't know where the aid station is," he said as he caught my back wheel. "I've been back and forth on this road a few times and it's nowhere in sight. Their map shows it just on the other side there, but it isn't where I thought it would be." We discussed the possibility that the organizers had opted to move the third aid stop to another location, so I told Sam I was going to pull over just up the road. I hadn't stopped (other than at signals that were red) to that point, and I knew my body needed to shake things out. As we stood on the side of the road, Sam asked how I was holding up and how the bike was doing. I told him I was rough, but doing okay considering. The bike had done better than I could have expected. He asked if I wanted to switch water bottles with him, but I told him I was still okay. I'm used to going this distance self-supported, so I wasn't too concerned. Then, he whipped out the best thing ever... a two pack of Resse's Peanut Butter Big Cups (Side note: I had NO idea these even existed, but now that I do, this could spell trouble - they are seriously monstrous - like twice the size of a normal Reese's cup).

*Image found here

I'd love to say that I gobbled them down right there, but truth be told, as much as a chocolate peanut butter cup is maybe one of the best things in the world, I just wasn't feeling it at that moment. I thanked him, stuck them in my saddlebag, took another swig of water, and got back on the road. Sam shouted, "See you at the finish line!" to which I could only smile. Maybe I could actually finish this ride that seemed so impossible just a short time ago.

About a mile up the road there was a course marshal directing riders to turn right. As I made the turn, I suddenly realized that this must be a "hidden" aid station. Sure enough, about another mile down the road, the last aid station appeared. I didn't need to stop, but I didn't know where to go next on the course. Had they changed the route last minute? I pulled off at the aid station to ask some ladies if they knew if we were to go back out the way we'd come in or to keep headed down the road. They had a friend asking for themselves too, so I waited until information was returned and we all headed back out.

At mile 32 we turned and started what I thought would be a short climb and then a long descent. Remember that I mentioned there was one road I was unfamiliar with on the route? Well, this was it. Sam had stated that he'd been on the road many times and that it was all down hill, so it is what I had expected. Except, that's not what it was at all. Every time I thought I'd reached the top of the climb it would continue upward. Women would pass me saying things like, "Really? We're not through this yet?" or "Man! This has to be over soon, right?" but it continued on in this manner for several miles.

There was a point on this climb that I seriously thought I was going to stop and call for a ride home. This distance is something I am used to doing and my body is conditioned to complete, but this climbing combined with a lack of oxygen was getting to me. I was coughing and choking on my own phlegm and I was mentally and physically drained. My nose was dripping and the tissues I'd brought with me were sopping wet in my jersey pocket. I kept thinking I could just pull over and call Sam to come and get me. Who's going to hold it against me? I am sick after all. It's not as though I'm proving anything to anyone by completing this ride.

Except that I was attempting to prove something - to myself - and I didn't like being called "stupid" by my mother.

It's a lot easier to give up than it is to carry on when things get tough. Life hits with some hard wallops sometimes and being sick was probably about the lightest hit that could be offered up. I had made it to this point so there was no reason not to finish the ride. Unless I passed out on the side of the road, I was determined to complete something that I knew very well my body was able to handle.

If you need a break to breathe, just spin. No one said you have to be back at a certain time. Of course, I had set a time at which I wanted to be back, but I also was well aware that I would be slow. Cutting myself some slack seemed to help mentally, which in turn helped physically propel me forward, but I knew I was going to miss that time I'd wanted to hit.

Sometimes, a mental distraction is all that is needed

A funny thing happens to me after about 40-45 miles of riding; I seem to get a second wind. I have a burst of energy and suddenly feel as though I just started a ride. I feel happy, I want to encourage others who seem to be struggling, and on this particular ride, I knew the end was in sight. I'd wanted to complete the century ride this year, but I knew that wasn't in the stars in my current condition. Still, a 53-mile ride is nothing to sneeze at, especially for someone who felt near-death. As I rode, I started to pick up speed. I chatted briefly with other riders as I passed too. As I caught up to one woman she asked if I knew how far we were from the finish. I felt horribly for her as she seemed to be in pain with each pedal stroke. I tried to stick with her for a few minutes and told her we weren't far from the finish. I pointed out the beautiful lake we were passing and stated that I was entirely thrilled that we hadn't seen rain yet for the day. I asked her about her bike - more as a distraction than anything else, but I'm always up for a chat about bikes. She smiled and thanked me and I pulled ahead to finish what I'd started.

At this point, I was truly feeling my lungs - and not in a good way. It almost felt as though they were going to collapse in on themselves. My chest felt tight and the coughing was out of control. Other cyclists were turning around to see what all the noise was about. I kept trying to apologize for the hacking, but there wasn't anything I could do to stop it and I kept getting interrupted by another round of coughing.

As I rounded the corner to the neighborhood with the finish line, I couldn't believe I'd actually made it to the end. My body felt fine (meaning my muscles), but from the chest up, I was a mess. I ended up turning on the incorrect road in the neighborhood and crossed the finish line in the wrong direction. Later I'd learn that I wasn't the only one to make this mistake. Oh well. I only felt badly because I had a couple of women following me who unfortunately also ended up on the wrong side of things. They ended up going back around to cross the finish line correctly. I honestly didn't care about doing so myself. As far as I was concerned, I'd made it. But now, I had to find Sam.

Looking around, he wasn't immediately obvious, but as I walked my bike around the finish line, I suddenly spotted him, staring off in the direction from which I should have come. "Sam," I yelled. He looked startled and confused. "I came in the wrong way," I announced, to which he just laughed. I know. Not horribly surprising for someone who likes to carve her own path.

I would have loved to have hung out and checked out all of the various happenings at the after party, but I was exhausted. I was concerned about even making it the few miles home, so I knew we had to get on the road quickly.

My mom called after the ride to inquire as to whether or not I'd actually done it. As we were talking, I was coughing and she reminded me to rest and take care of myself. "So, did you do the ride?" she asked again after we'd been chatting for a few minutes. I wasn't really sure I wanted to respond. After calling me stupid the day before, I wondered what she'd think of my actually going through with it. "Yeah, I did it. It wasn't pretty, but I finished," I said reluctantly. "Really?" she replied gleefully. "I am so impressed with all that you do. I know that couldn't have been easy, but to push through and get it done, I am really proud." I don't know if I'd go quite that far - after all, I knew I could fairly easily do the distance - but I was somewhat proud of myself too. Not because I did a ride that lots of people can and do complete, but because I didn't let the demons in my head win out over what I knew was possible. Demon - 0, G.E. - 1. I'll take that victory any day.

Being Sick and Cycling

Illness and I are not the best of friends. When I find myself feeling under the weather, I can definitely turn into a mess very quickly. The biggest issue for me is not the fact that I don't feel well, but more that I really dislike being stuck indoors, or worse yet, confined to bed. Not every round of being sick is confining, but when the long ones do occur, it really stinks and I find myself trying to keep up with all that would normally be happening instead of taking the time to rest. I gather up tissues, take some vitamin C, and attempt to keep up a pretense that everything is fine and it's just a "little sniffle."

*Image found here

This is hitting close to home for me at the moment, and I have to say that spending time sitting around is definitely not my favorite use of time -- especially during the summer. Warm months are a commodity and one that I prefer to use to its fullest before it disappears and I'm left with cold and snowy days. To add to the current dissatisfaction with being ill, I have an annual ride coming up this weekend and I'm concerned that I both haven't had enough training time in the saddle and that I won't be well in time to participate.

It all started on Sunday and has become progressively worse with each passing day. Initially, I shrugged it off as allergies and didn't think much of it, but by Monday, it was definitely feeling more flu-like than something brought on by allergies. Tuesday I woke up and told myself that I had no choice but to get in a longer ride because I would need to back off during the few days prior to the ride, but I really was feeling horrible. Miraculously, I somehow completed the 50+ miles that I needed to get done, but I paid for it the rest of the day.

*Image found here

Whether the ride I went on made things worse or not, I don't think that's something I can really know. From research I've done in the past, the professionals claim that if it's just a head cold (sniffles, etc), it's perfectly acceptable to continue exercising, as long as one listens to his/her body; however, if the person is running a fever or the illness is in the chest (like a cough), bed rest is the answer. I may have broken that rule (don't tell anyone), but I actually felt better riding my bike than I did sitting around. There's something about being stuck in a room that makes me feel worse and being able to be in some fresh air was amazing. I may have overdone things mileage-wise, but I survived... and so, I just have to hope I didn't do more damage than good and prepare as though Saturday is still "on."

Now, I'm sucking down Emergen-C and taking other various items in an attempt to get this to move on quicker. It's amazing how many home remedies are out there, and how many products companies attempt to sell us that will supposedly help us heal quicker. I can't help but wonder if any of it really works. Of course, there are those who insist that Zinc, Vitamin C and/or Airborne are the trick to getting over an illness faster. They may be right, but I've generally not had a lot of luck with anything actually working other than rest and letting the cold or flu run its course. I have realized that we really (as a whole) don't want to rest and instead try to fight our way through sickness, believing that we are somehow capable of continuing on when our bodies are telling us a different story.

*Image found here

Not only do I seem to crave the most horribly awful foods when I have a cold or flu, but I always seem to want large quantities of them. In more specific terms, I find myself desperately wanting simple carbs drenched in fat - like french toast with butter and syrup or fried cheese quesadillas. While I realize that more balanced meals provide the nutrients our bodies need to recover, I never cease to be amazed at the cravings that come on with being sick.

What have your experiences been with illness and continuing an exercise plan, or specifically in regard to cycling? Do you opt for bed rest, or do you try to fight your way through it? Do you have any specific food cravings or items that seem to help you recover quicker?

An Explanation of the Recent Lack of Writing (sort of)

Anyone like to guess how many posts I've started over the last month and not completed? Let's just say that there are quite a few, but not one of them is to a point of readiness... and so, the blog sits. Dated. Uninteresting. Sigh.

Because I still can't quite finish any of the posts, I thought I would start one that I can actually wrap up quickly, so that it doesn't appear that I've completely abandoned ship. I should first say that, sadly, I've experienced on-and-off flu symptoms since Christmas. I so rarely get sick, and somehow in such a short stretch of time, I've become a poster child for the ill. I don't know if it's the stress of this final semester, or the fact that I started taking a multi-vitamin (oddly, all the illness seems to coincide with the start of this routine, though I realize it sounds insane to blame it on vitamins), but I haven't enjoyed it one bit. The current iteration of illness has me dealing with bronchitis. Fun. The cough? Definitely not enjoyable. The sleepless nights (because of the cough)? Less enjoyable.

In all of this, I've lost the ability to breathe very well, which has taken a toll on my ability to ride my bike(s). It takes just about everything in me to walk from one side of the house to the other, and by the time I get there, I'm huffing and desperately trying to catch my breath. You can imagine that riding a bike is even worse. I did take one out around the block over the weekend (literally, around the block) and it felt so wonderful to be on a bicycle again, so after my little taste, I'm looking forward to a speedy recovery (now that I have antibiotics - I'm very stubborn about going to the doctor), so that I can be out on the bike again in the very near future.

In bike related news, the Bella Ciao made it to her new home, though not completely unharmed. I swear, if I ever find out the hub between here and the Illinois/Michigan area that brutalizes bike boxes, there will be hell to pay. While she's apparently still rideable, there was unnecessary damage inflicted that just infuriates me... particularly knowing how well the bike was packed. I do hope that there will be many happy years of riding her, however, and I'm thrilled that she's in a happy place where she'll get more regular use.

I wrote at the first part of the year about my intention to mold this space into something a little different. At that point, I thought perhaps I would document rides frequently and put up more photos than actual ramblings. Obviously, that has not happened. As I've watched the bike blogs slowly dropping off, I can't help but become a little saddened. Particularly when they are blogs that I enjoy reading regularly. This space started out as simply an area for me to vent, and while I don't wish to have this turn into a whining place, I think there are legitimate topics that can be discussed that don't always center around bikes. As most people do, I have my hands in many things, or at times, not much at all. I love to share our tales of bike project successes and failures, but truth be told, there is often more interest and excitement outside of my two-wheel love. So, what's a girl woman {I'm trying desperately to stop saying "girl" when referring to grown women} to do?

The only way I know to keep myself interested and active is to expand the information shared here, and so to you, dear reader, I share this information now because changes, they are a-coming. Why not just start writing whatever is on my mind instead of sharing this with you first? Most importantly, I realize that there are some {perhaps most} reading who are specifically looking for bicycle-relevant information. I feel it's only fair to give you warning. While I definitely intend to still write about bicycle happenings, I sense that the topics will be diverging possibly into other areas. What will I write about? While I don't intend to overwhelm the space with art information, it is of interest to me, and I think it's good to be able to share. Of course, much of that information will likely be for locals. I would also like to discuss more general life topics - really, anything that catches my eye/attention. I'm also pondering a name change for the blog with all of this because it seems a little silly to keep a name that isn't all encompassing. I've toyed with a few ideas, but time will tell what ultimately becomes of that decision. It may very well stay the same and folks will just need to ignore the subjects that aren't of interest to them.

In all of this, I suppose I just want to be upfront about how I'm feeling and where I see things going. I appreciate every person who takes the time to read this space, as well as those who offer thoughts in the form of comments and e-mails. I hope that your participation will continue to be plentiful, but I also understand those who are looking for specific information as well. If you find that it's time to part ways, I of course understand, but hopefully this will keep me more regularly engaged. As always, happy riding!