You can call it hell, I will think of it as heaven....

You know you have reached true bike “nerdom” when you start watching cycling movies (yes, they make them!). I actually had the belief that Race Across the Sky might sell out for it’s ONE NIGHT ONLY showing late last month. So, I found myself paying an online processing fee to secure my seat, which the many people who know my frugality would find surprising (It was a $1.50 and I am not sure what it was REALLY for, but I paid it!). The movie was 2-hours long…and I hung onto the edge of my seat for every second of it even though I already knew who won the race and how. Had I had a cowbell, I would have rung it.

Now, other movies are creeping into my DVD player, such as A Sunday in Hell which follows the 1976 Paris-Roubaix bicycle race. This race is a 166 mile course with a terrain in Northern France covering centuries old cobble stones. It does not take a genius to figure out that cobble stones and bicycles do not go well together but it DOES make for an interesting race—even 33-years later. So why would anyone watch a race from 1976 in 2009? Boredom might be one answer but not as likely for myself….instead it is about the excitement of the race.

Cycling in 1976 is an obviously far departure from cycling today. Nevermind, not a single cyclist is wearing a helmet in the race. Nevermind, their bikes are heavy heaps with what we would likely consider substandard set-ups today. Even the cyclists themselves look different, slightly more “husky” than the lean string bean types you see today. Of course, you cannot mention this movie without mentioning the fabulous wardrobe of all the riders including the wool team sweaters. Today they are considered “vintage” and likely to go for thousands of dollars on Ebay. In 1976, I think they were just considered hot and itchy.

Shot in a documentary style, the movie follows several riders including the infamous Eddy Merckx through their ride across castle dotted landscapes. As a rider, it really does captivate you to stare off into the scenery and imagine yourself there (trust me, I would price tickets now if I thought I could afford it). Meanwhile, the harsh portion of the race is like watching a train wreck of cyclists drop like dominos covered in muck, blood and bike grease. There is not a lot you can do with someone who is missing a piece of their forehead. They are not getting back on the bike.

The movie concludes in a gigantic shower room with all the cyclists washing off the ride while talking to reporters. As I have learned, nudity becomes something pretty normal in cycling as you are used to changing around your friends and random strangers in parks all over the country. However, I think I would have a problem completing an interview while trying to exfoliate half of the French countryside off of my legs. My only real complaint of the whole movie is if you are going to conclude your film in the shower room—at least give a girl something to blush about.

Fall could defeat Superman....Promise.

Everyone gets all excited about Fall….the colors, the pumpkins, cute kids in even cuter costumes, festivals and newly crafted seasonal brews (Pyramid Pumpkin Ale-DELICIOUS!). What everyone FAILS to realize is….this is the perfect disguise of Fall….FALL IS A THIEF. While we are busy consuming our pumpkin ale in a gourd patch and watching little ones beg for tooth rotting confections…Fall is stripping our valuable ride time hour by hour….RIGHT UNDER OUR PUMPKIN BUZZED NOSES! WAKE UP PEOPLE! FALL IS A CRUEL HEARTLESS BEAST DISGUISED WITH COLORS AND COOL BREEZES!

Fall is the sneakiest of all seasons….coming in slow and unassuming. First the temperature starts to slowly regress. This lures any biker outside because we hate to ride in 98% humidity with the sun beaming on our backs and forearms. As the temperature falls, then here come the beautiful leaves. Leaves of all colors, shapes and sizes cover the roads, the potholes, the cracks and trick us into climbing oversized hills to see amazing views of the Crayola colors unfolding before our eyes. All the while, the mercury is at a reasonable level where you still sweat but you do not feel the need to vomit when you finish a ride. Basically motorists need to give double the room to any biker they pass because in the Fall, we are entranced with the light breeze and perfect colors falling around us. This sly season causes a great distraction from the road and trails we are SUPPOSED to be watching. It only takes a few falling red leaves to distract us from a creek crossing and then….BAM….we are in the creek and because it is Fall…THAT CREEK IS COLD!

Fall also is a thief of daylight. I like to walk out of my office around 5 O’Clock like most red blooded humans. In the spring and summer months, I can go home, load up the bike, take my time changing clothes and choosing my favorite hydration drinks. Then Fall arrives and the end of my day looks like someone pressed the big RED panic button on my desk (I really do not have a panic button but it would be fun if I did). First, I have to take my bike to work along with a bag of clothes, accessories and food. At approximately 4:45, I race to the bathroom, change clothes, then race back to my office (while getting laughs from coworkers looking at my spandex!), load up everything so precisely at 5:00….I am out the door and hopefully with little traffic, I can be riding by 5:15. Then I realize at first around 7:45 that it is too dark to ride…then 7:30….then 7:15…and soon the sun will set at 4:45!!!! Okay, not that early but for a couple of weeks…the sun will set shortly after 5:00…meaning my only option is to drive home, hop on the trainer and look out my front window into the dark, abysmal, night. (ugh).

All of this absence of warmth and light means that each weekend is more important than the last. I crave a warm, sunny Saturday and as soon as I can thaw out my legs, I am out on a ride. You are probably asking, “What does Fall steal on the weekends?”…..MY PRECIOUS TIME! Fall likes to tease in the later weekends….with rain, drizzle, light snow, sudden temperature changes, windy days. It has an arsenal of teasing plights to force me to leave my bike hanging on the wall! My favorite ride preventer….THE HOLIDAYS. You cannot leave a turkey unattended or a house of family members alone for too long. You cannot serve your family some grilled hot dogs for Thanksgiving….NO, they want a full spread, and you have to spend the time and give the effort to crafting the perfect golden brown turkey…the creamiest mashed potatoes and of course at least two desserts to choose from because NO ONE can agree on one. Riding is NOT an option during THESE weekends….NO WAY!

If one of the above things make you see how sneaky fall is....then I need to explain to you that Fall is not only a thief of time and daylight but Fall is also a chemical warfare abuser. What am I possibly talking about? ALLERGIES. That's right....if the lapse in daylight and obsession to cook a perfect dead fowl do not stop you from riding...then the over abundance of pollen is sure to apply the brakes. My own doctor showed my chart to me noting that in the past 5 years I had been in every October between the 10th and 20th with a severe sinus infection. It's no wonder I have green mucus. Riding the trails with dusty, moldy leaves is bound to make anyone sick. You are not supposed to inhale that stuff. What starts out as a sinus infection, soon opens the petri dishes for all the other seasonal ailments like flu, upper respiratory infections, and any other illness that can stop a cyclist from leaving the couch. Fall knows where to get you...everytime!

I salute you Fall…you are a crafty thief worthy of legendary tales. Every super hero has an arch nemesis and while I do not have a cape…I can assure that if I could leap buildings in a single bound….YOU WOULD BE MY KRYPTONITE!

Harvest Homecoming-Where's the Hot Chocolate?

I was initially excited about the Harvest Homecoming ride in Indiana when I read about it in July. First, a scenic ride rolling through the hills of Floyds Knobs, Indiana followed by a fun afternoon of pumpkin picking—could the day be any better? Did I also mention a winery? However, the start of the morning was marred with one problem…it was 38 degrees at my house when the sun was coming up (7:20AM). Loading up the car, my teeth were chattering and I was hoping not to damage any of the preteen dental work my parents worked so hard to pay for. I had anticipated a “nip” in the air, so my bag was packed with an assortment of warm wear gear but after securing the bike to the car, I noticed my fingers turning blue so I raced back in the house and like a mad woman emptied out my warm weather drawer compiling every piece of cold weather cycling gear I had into one bag .

Once at the starting line, it was evident that there was not going to be a tropical warm front rip through the area anytime soon. I started to wish my bottles were filled with hot chocolate or coffee. Even the start of the ride was downhill which instantly created headwind and set the overall "feel" for the rest of the course. So basic math here….38 degree surface temperature+ head wind+ 10-15mph wind gusts= FREAKING COLD. Some cyclists were dire hardcore riders and stood there in their shorts and tee-shirts waiting for the start. I, however, double checked my thermal fleece gloves, my head buff that was covering my ears, and my thermal tights to ensure that there was minimal skin exposure. From there…it was what you would expect: FREAKING COLD!

5 miles in: Little or no feeling in toes or fingers, teeth still chattering. Large downhills caused groans among the 1000 or so riders. We huddled en masse to attempt to collect warmth. Our noses ran like faucets. My ride partners and I sought out taller riders to draft behind with little success bringing our core body temperature up.

10 miles in: You would think we would be a little warmer by now. NOPE! Part of course was in the shade and that shade really does reduce the temperature by a few more degrees (GREAT!). Spinning was the best option to keep your organs warm and we actually began to look forward to climbs because they warmed us up. Normally on rides, we discuss food...now we were wishing the SAG stops had hot chocolate (with or without marshmallows).

15 miles in: Okay, so we were FINALLY warmed up—kinda-- but we were afraid to stop for anything…bathroom, pictures, etc. We could not resist the lemonade stand overlooking the city though. Kids know just how to get ya! We took it upon ourselves to suggest some marketing advice as a girl bounced around in her hat and gloves...."can the lemonade and make some hot chocolate!" (We were on a mission).

20 miles in: Even with layers, cold mucus, and long hills we were still cold but not only cold….we could now feel our body ails. My fellow rider informed me her knee was on fire. I looked over enthusiastically thinking I could huddle around it if indeed flames were spewing from her joints…but she OBVIOUSLY only meant it metaphorically. Damn her for getting my hopes up but then we realized that pressing on for a longer ride would not be wise. We pulled in sometime after mile 25. It was still cold. Even after loading up the car again, we found our bodies working against us as we each took turns coughing and wheezing.

Being the troopers that we are, of course, we did not let this minor meteorological mishap detour us from the rest of the day, including pumpkin picking. The Harvest Homecoming is an excuse for ALL city dwellers (including ourselves) to drive themselves 20-miles outside the metropolitan and harvest our own ugly pumpkin (see above). Strolling through the fields, we were forced to take pumpkins with less than perfect complexions. However, we were finally warm. We could finally take off our gloves, head buffs and arm warmers. It did make for an interesting site pumpkin picking though (see below).

I am telling my couch off…but gently…

My warm, comfy couch is great for afternoon naps, reading, and nestling friends. We have been together for a couple of years now and it is usually the first thing I see when I walk into my home, welcoming me with soft down pillows. It has been there for breakups (it’s a good crying couch), for Golden Girl marathons, and drunken stupors which require me to lay down immediately. But fall is here and my couch has a NASTY habit…..the colder it gets, the lonelier the couch gets and it tries to kidnap me whenever I try to leave the house.

I noticed it when I started doing morning runs again. I would suit up in my appropriate layers and then just as I sat on the edge of the couch to tie my shoes, my couch would engulf my butt….sinking me slowly into warm comfort. Without even trying, the couch sucked me in and lulled me back to sleep before my first steps out the door. Even when I protest, the couch will try harder by dumping my favorite blanket in my lap. Oh, yeah…that subtle! STOP IT! GET AWAY FROM ME! I HAVE TO RUN!

Let’s face it….if you had to choose (1) a cold morning run that may result in cold mucus gathering on your upper lip and crusting over or (2) snuggling on a warm, comfy couch with my favorite blanket….THERE REALLY ISN’T A CHOICE HERE! Of course I want to stay with the couch but my body demands I exercise regardless of the weather, even in the cold. My couch is a persistent manipulator. It knows just how to make me feel in order to have me actually consider abandoning a cold trail run, or a windy bike ride. I warn you couch…I am a very independent girl…I do not need you…OH YES I DO!

Oh couch…when I come home from my frozen trudging or freezing leg spins, you are always number one. I collapse on you and rely on you to warm my frigid bones. Who do I call upon while waiting for the shower to get all hot and steamy? YOU….you couch! I know that spending hours alone in a cold house makes you just another decorative object but I promise you are more to me than “just a piece of furniture!”…promise. We have plenty of nights to look forward to…where we can spend quality time together. There are ample horror movies and bowls of coconut almond fudge ice cream to be shared. I need my space….I need to miss you. It’s just one season…soon it will be warm again, and you will enjoy breezy afternoons surrounding my sore, tired, over-trained body.

Up a creek without a paddle….

With the car all geared up, food packed tight, flashlights powered up, we had to accept the fact early Saturday morning that we WERE NOT canoeing—even with all of our prepared gear. Torrential downpours, monsoon and flash floods are not ideal conditions for canoeing and the ranger explained this to us from under his larger than life umbrella. From what we can best estimate, we would have spent MORE time bailing the canoe with our little multiple use bucket than paddling it.

The worst part of planning ANY outdoor adventure is the weather. Unless you live in a very even tempered environment, anything can happen. It is best to curtail your excitement, at least until you are nearly finished, so as not to let yourself down. Yes, we checked the weather channel to acquire copious amounts of information but here is the thing about the weather channel…..THEY ARE NOT PERFECT. Their last reading before we all loaded up to leave Louisville said, “chance of showers”—well, the chance was 100%! As outdoor lovers, we all were prepared to be wet….damp….or moist but had we ventured out into the deluge we were standing in, I am not sure I would be here typing this email.

However, the weekend was not a complete wash (not sure if I intended on that pun or not), I spent time at several tourist spots in my home state, albeit wet spots. I had several slices of my favorite pizza franchise which has NOT expanded into Louisville yet. I saw wild turkeys, families arguing about rock candy, and an assortment of “bad ass” Americana vehicles all graciously adorned with the American flag (one should complete the bad ass look). Perhaps the prize of the weekend was a brownie offered to me at the Big South Fork Motor Lodge. The owner gave each guest a complimentary brownie which far outdid the décor of the relaxed motel (everything was painted Pepto-Bismol pink….EVERYTHING). I also learned at the nearby eatery that ANYTHING can be fried and cobbler comes in an assortment of flavors, all delicious.

In other words, I will be back (sans rain)…

There are other things besides cycling….

What? A weekend without cycling? HOLD ON! Is that possible? How? When? Some of my friends have staged an intervention. They have sat me down, carefully prying the handlebars from my calloused grasp and replaced them with a paddle. How the hell am I supposed to peddle with a paddle? What kind of cruel trick is this? I don’t need this! You people get away from me!!!

It is obviously not a cruel trick but some of my friends have said since the century ride is over, it is time for me to return to some of the OTHER outdoor activities I so love. To begin this process of “outdoor re-entry” they have planned a canoe trip as a required course of treatment. I like canoes…this could work.

Quick note: It has rained in Kentucky all week. In fact, jokes about Biblical proportions circle the office on a daily basis. Rest assured, the ranger says the river is manageable and not hazardous. I am hoping that he and I share the same definitions. If he is thinking class 5 rapids are not hazardous, then we ARE NOT on the same page and I will curse his name as I am swirling under a rock, drowning.

I was excited about a canoe trip, excited to get back out into nature (sans bicycle). Boat, paddle, cooler of food and beer all lead to a fun filled day….it sounds very relaxing. Yet, my friend interrupted my relaxed face to tell me that REALLY the trip is two days. We leave out early Saturday morning and canoe for 6-7 hours, then we dock wherever we can find space, set up camp for the night, and finish out Sunday morning where my car will be parked. I said, “great…what kind of campsite is it?” and to my surprise, my friend says, “whatever kind we make it…it is not really a campsite.” So…I need to pack some toilet paper and a shovel for latrine digging! Wow, when my friends decide to immerse me outdoors, they know just how to do it. Nothing says….NATURE….like digging a latrine at 5AM. NICE! However because of the primitiveness and length of trip, it means we have to pack everything we need in a canoe, a little boat prone to tipping.

Another quick note: A cold front is approaching this weekend slicing through the humid wet conditions we have had and creating cold dewy mornings. I should explain that I am ALWAYS cold unless it is 80 degrees outside. Most camping trips require me to carry at least 1-2 sweatshirts for layering at night, as well as other warm gear to cover any and all exposed parts of my bloodless body.

So the canoe trip is a “real” canoe trip where we will be out in the middle of nowhere minus cell phones, warmth, and bikes. We have to pack light but also carry everything we need in ONE canoe (I hope this sucker is the yacht of canoes). Apparently a foot heater is NOT a necessity and has been voted off the canoe. Also not allowed, my subzero sleeping bag and heated socks (yes, I have heated socks….I have small frozen feet for God’s sake!). Gear that is permitted…compass, small pack, food (minimal), beer (ample), dry clothes, fire starter, toilet paper, and my ipod. I have packed my running shoes because even on a “canoe trip”…I need to train for the trail marathon. I suspect I will have some woodland path all to myself.

This form of emersion therapy my friends have chosen is certainly anything but cycling. These particular friends do not cycle …so not only will I NOT be riding but even talking about bikes would be wasted breath as neither of them even OWN one. Wait! Maybe I could sell them on bike riding. Hmmm. I had better rethink that idea. They could tump me out of the canoe at any point and then I would be left to find my way home in soaking wet cold clothes. Abandonment will only cause me to latch onto cycling more and from there it will be a traverse downhill nightmare of “binge cycling” escalating my use to deadly proportions. How about I just concentrate on keeping the canoe upright, my belly full of food, and taking a lot of pictures? My bike will be waiting for me when I get home and our reunion will be sweet. (I swear I could quit at anytime!)

Not about IF…but about WHEN

While there were several parts of the century ride that I deemed “scary”…nothing was as frightening as hearing the tales of several riders who had crashed on the course breaking bones, needing an ambulance, and being unconscious. The hairs on my sore, sunburned forearms stood straight up when I heard phrases like: “broken collar bone,” “road rash,” or “cracked helmet.” As probability dictates, one day this conversation will be about yourself (you may or may not be there to hear about it).

There is no denying that at some point in your cycling career whatever bike you ride, you will wreck. I have found in the woods, I am more likely to crash into trees as they tend to jump right out in front of you (oak trees are sneaky!). From a distance other riders may think you are a tree hugging, spandex wearing hippie but you will likely be feeling a broken face, busted nose, cracked teeth which lacks the zen of the first image. Besides trees, other worries on the trails include jagged rocks, tire grabbing tree roots (they grab your tire and WILL NOT let go), mud, water, creeks, log crossings, joggers (with or without pets), bee’s (bee stings distract you from navigating your bike), furry daredevil critters, other cyclists (we sometimes run into each other literally….a variation of a tribal group hug sometimes involving stitches). If you can make it through a mountain bike ride without bleeding, consider yourself lucky. Then there is road cycling.

Now, take ½” (if that wide) tires and place a cyclist on top navigating traffic (cars and bicycles do not play well together), other cyclists, pot holes, road kill (not to self: do not ride through a bloated dead raccoon, it smells), stop lights, stop signs, more insects, railroad tracks, steep uphills and even steeper downhills, rain slicked roads--then you will understand why at some point YOU WILL WRECK, CRASH, or DNF a ride. Even on the best day of riding, one or more of the above obstacles that you have navigated a million times before will fail you causing “something” to happen.

Countless videos adorn You Tube displaying flailing cyclists sliding across a road, slamming into a tree, or attempting dangerous stunts resulting in a top tube smashing into a male riders crotch (ouch!). It is hard to NOT close your eyes and watch these videos and yet, who wants their brief fifteen seconds of fame to be shredding epidermis or crotch racking or helmet splitting? Not myself.

What can a cyclist do? NOTHING and this is perhaps the most helpless part of the sport. This is the worst part of owning and using bikes on a regular basis….you are powerless to prevent some accidents. It is not about IF but more about WHEN. Every ride I leave out on, even if it is just around the park (2.0 miles from my house), I take my picture I.D. (in case my face is shredded on asphalt), my insurance card, my cell phone and a credit card (ambulances do not take checks). There are days I have made jokes about wrapping myself in bubble wrap but of course…that would look ridiculous perhaps more than the spandex (is that possible, really?). It is a risk you accept but do not take lightly. The best you can hope for is a good story that YOU can tell and raise the arm hairs of others.