Like Lewis and Clark

I finally did it.
I went on a ride with a couple of die-hard mountain bikers.
We intended to ride in Ringwood, but had to go south to Allaire State Park to escape the snow, ice, mud and rain of northern Jersey.
It was well worth the trip.

Joe hoisted my old bike onto the roof of his zippy red Mazda and strapped it into the rack. His well-equipped, well-heeled bike eyed mine up and down in obvious distaste, questioning where we might be taking them together. Joe's bike was clearly ready to chew up roots and dirt and rocks and mountains while mine looked like it just wanted a good nap against a park bench, better yet, a final trip to the junkyard.

In the car on the way down, Joe and I talked about biking and music and motivation and inspiration and tons of other stuff that made the ride very comfortable and quick. When we got to the park, Charlie was waiting for us.

Instantly like-able, Charlie is quite a picture with his blazing pure white hair and beard. And don't be fooled by all that white stuff, he may not look like he's on the fast side of 50, but he's got the engine of a mountain lion.

We geared up and ducked in onto the trail. It was like entering the Amazon. Secretive and wild all around, we hopped onto a trail that was barely twelve inches wide. Within seconds we were roaring and banking over roots that felt like a series of steps going down into a ravine. Wow, it was one hell of an introduction into the land of trail riding. In retrospect, it was a great beginning and one that I'd love to hit again, but I didn't expect that kind of stuff to come so early and so fast. I think it was put there just to scare the timid and adventure challenged back into their cars. Then it smoothed out.

We zipped along riding through twisty tight trails and freshly cut single-track amid the trees. Though these trails didn't have the rocks and some other nasty stuff I'd seen in Ringwood, they certainly required concentration and good handling skills at these speeds. Without deadly rocks to deal with, we were able to ride much faster here, but navigating the trees and turns while keeping the bike on the four inches of real rideable surface took a bit of time to get comfortable with.

And just as I was building confidence with the ride, my bike began to fail. First, my chain hopped off, easy enough to fix. Then the rear tire migrated against the frame and stopped rolling. I had pulled the smooth comfort tires off the bike and replaced them with knobbys last week and tightened everything back up. Good enough for the road, it just wasn't tight enough for slamming through the woods. Good thing I had tossed both the wrench and my bike tool in my pouch the night before. If I hadn't, my ride would have been over right then.

We ran through the woods on some more ups and downs where these guys made me feel old and weak. For my own defense, I typically take at least a half hour to really warm up into my stamina mode. Then we hit some obstacles. We sailed over logs and log pyramids and some intimidating drops where you basically ride your bike down a terribly steep incline on a ten foot drop with a four inch margin for error. If you're lucky and do it right, you sail down and back up the next incline prepared to do it again. I was way lucky. And I was having fun. I got more and more daring and then I hit the seat after a jump and it budged. After a while it loosened some more. We had to stop so I could tighten it.

Riding again, we eventually came out of the woods and ended up on a part of the trail that was inverted. Here, instead of riding in a ravine with walls of dirt on either side, we were riding as if along the spine of a dragon. The trail was barely more than a foot wide, less in some areas, and had sloping 4-6 foot drop-offs on either side. Now, that really made me suck my breath in quick. It was like the scene from the "Lord of the Rings" series where they cross a chasm that extends straight into hell on a single path of floating rocks. It surely wasn't the place to screw up. And it was something I'd never have attempted if I didn't have the guys riding comfortably and confidently ahead of me.

It really was way cool and a heck of a lot fun until my seat had loosened so much it was like riding a rocking chair. It tilted all the way up, then all the way down and wouldn't remain stable for anything. It made riding along a razor-backed area(or anywhere else for that matter) a little less than fun.

We tightened it up again as much as we could. It seemed done for, the metal stripped. Undaunted, we rode more, back on trails while I sat gingerly in the saddle. I had to hop off the bike a half dozen times from the chain jumping off the inside and getting jammed in the crankset(something I wouldn't have to battle with a newer bike).

I had a blast back on twisty trails that turned and ran back against themselves. And then it was over. We arrived in the parking lot. We were out on the trails for more than 3 1/2 hours of fun that went by quickly... but obligations of the real world called... specifically, from her brother's hockey game. Oh yea, I guess people might be looking for me to care for them. In our state of bliss among wooded trails, it was very easy to forget the rest of the world.

We stopped for the obligatory burger and beer. A fine tradition for sure, where we recapped the ride, laughed and chided and talked about rides to come.

On the way home, Joe questioned my thoughts on why more people don't try mountain biking. I think it takes a certain personality(possibly one lacking sense) to venture into difficult terrain alone. I think more people would try it if they felt they could be led or shown how to do it, if it were more accessible to the average person. I waited a long time to have someone finally bring me in and show me around. If I hadn't been so determined to try it out myself, it may have been a quickly passing desire. But for me, a passing desire, it's not. I'm looking forward to going out there again on a more capable bike.

Sharing good times with friends is one of the best releases from daily stress and riding is one of the best times I can think of. It's a private experience as much as a shared one since everybody takes their own motivations and perspective into a ride and gets their own rewards out of it.

What does this mean for you? I'm hoping you might want to join me on a ride, on the road or in the woods. Beginner or not, we'll find the right pace and groove for you. If you like, I'll hook you up with some great people like Joe and Charlie who really enjoy sharing the fun.

Don't be shy. You know how to reach me.

Sandie

How sweet it is!

Do you remember the last time you really, really wanted something and couldn't get it right away?
Like the donkey reaching for the carrot, did you have times when it was so close and it still didn't happen?
Do you remember the moment you finally had it in your hands? Can you still feel it?

Was it all you wanted it to be and more?
Was it worth the wait?

I hope so.

I am waiting on so many things right now. And there is not one thing I can do to make the process of any of them come faster. I just have to be patient. And it's not that easy.

One is a rare opportunity, a huge, amazing thing that I hope, comes about. If it does, you will be hearing me talk about it endlessly. If I get it, I will be out of my mind happy. An opportunity is an infinite gift. A door opens and allows one step. You then choose how much further to go... how much you are willing to risk and how much you are willing to work to push the outer limits of yourself.

Another thing is a mountain bike. I am waiting for the right bike to come along at the right price. I know what I want and I've narrowed the choices. I am just as confident in my choices in selecting a mountain bike as I was when I ordered the road bike. Then, as now, I know what I need and I'm willing to wait rather than settle. I am so glad that I waited it out on the road bike, but waiting for the mountain bike is surely getting to me.

I've also been waiting for a ride. Each time it looks like I'm going to get the opportunity to get out on a trail with someone who knows what they are doing, it gets cancelled!! Talk about carrots. The weather, obligations and unexpected disasters have all had their toll. But when you're really need of something, you get it where you can get it.

I was very fortunate yesterday. After numerous cancellations for MTB rides due to rain and snow and ice, I jumped in on a group road ride on a 40 mile trek. It rained a little, it snowed a little, it was cold a lot, but it was a great ride! I had the typical trouble of getting started for the first 10 or so miles, but then I got my legs and rode tight in the pace line on the way back. Quite a feat for me, and just where I wanted to be, it was my best performance yet. I knew I was riding really well and I heard about it from the guys riding behind me when we stopped at a light. Way cool.

It was great to be able to challenge myself against a bunch of guys(and 1 girl) in great shape. And... I kept up... for the most part. The hills still beat at me, but I held on in the front of the pack until the last long hill spit me out the back. I was dead last back to the parking lot.

In the car on the way home, I thought about how far I've come this year. How much I can be thankful for. And I was thankful that my upper legs hurt... a lot! They even hurt just sitting still! How awesome! That means, I really worked hard and held little to nothing back. And my reward... being sore! I still have more work to do on the trainer and in the pool but I am so much closer to being competitive. It's just great.

And I need to do it as much as possible to keep an edge... preferably, to improve over the winter.

So, back to the wait. I am still waiting for the epic ride. Finding out how I measure up against someone who knows the trails and knows what MTB really means still eludes me. Getting on the right bike for the job still eludes me. But if they are worth the wait, they will be sweet indeed!!

'Till soon,
Sandie

How much does it hurt?

It was a heathy activity when I started, but it's turned into an addiction.

Since late October, when the weather really started to change, I have had fewer opportunities to do the big rides. The weather hasn't been cooperative and I haven't been up to fighting 20mph winds in the biting cold. So, call me a whimp, but it just doesn't sound like fun. When it's 34 degrees and dark at 7:30am with the wind whipping through the trees, and you're looking out the window half asleep while the cold outside reaches it's fingers through the window to pull the lingering cozy warmth from your body, you seriously rethink your commitment to some silly bike ritual. Crawling back into the soft, still warm sheets and settling in for another sweet dream has a significantly greater appeal than turning your body into a mass of goosebumps while you grab a quick shower, wolf down 2-3 glasses of water with a quick light breakfast and race out the door into guaranteed suffering in the cold and wind. Don't you agree?

It holds true at least until you go into withdrawl. That's when you start to go stir crazy. When you check weather.com obsessively and try to re-arrange your life to grab the few hours of sunshine on the least miserable day to get in a quick ride. Where you'll go anywhere and do anything to get a good workout and build up a sweat. Where you're willing to take your chances with trees and rocks and other deadly obstacles to try to compensate for a good, hard, consistant road ride. When you're ready to do almost anything to get to that place you were in in October.

That place? Well, "that place" is where the muscles are hard and strong under your skin. Where they define themselves as you move and tighten them. Where they sculpt themselves into distinct shapes that never were before. When you're there, you want to go forward... not back.

It only takes a few short weeks for the muscles to get sleepy from a lack of use. They soften and loose their shape and are not willing to do what they seemed to love to do. When I started to go there, I got scared. I worked too hard to get where I am. I can't give it up now! I can't spend a lazy winter and emerge in the spring at the level I was at last spring. I want to jump out of the gates and keep up with the guys in April. I want to be ready to compete in June. I've got big plans for this year and I'm not going to get there unless I work hard between now and then.

So I put my bike on a trainer for the first time. Then I put myself through a high intensity workout for well over an hour. I sweated like it was July. I busted my butt and everything else until it hurt and then I did it some more. I went through the quitting point at least twice and pushed my brain to force my body to go on and step up the level too. It was good. I did it again two days later and again the day after that. Then my legs started to wake back up, started to firm back up. Tired but happy. This is good.

Yesterday, I grabbed the first opportunity I could to do a short but high intensity ride outside. It was great to get back out there. It was cold and it was surely going to rain, but I didn't care. It was what I needed and I was going to get in the best workout I could in the little time I had.

As I was heading home, riding through Oakland, it started to get a bit colder. Then I realized it was the rain. It was gentle enough and persistent enough that I wasn't really aware of it until I noticed the wipers going on the cars. Not to worry, I was little more than three miles from home. I was lost in thought until I picked a leaf or something in my tire. I couldn't see it but I could hear it. Must have been just a leaf, and then it was gone.

Then, another strange feeling. Almost rhythmic. Somewhat reminiscent of my ride in the Catskills where I felt I was riding on bumps that weren't there... when I had a broken spoke.

What the hell? I jumped off my bike before it was fully stopped.

Tire is a little soft. I must have picked up some glass or something. I had no spare tube, no patch kit, no tools, no pump, no one to call to pick me up and 45 minutes until I needed to get my daughter and my student from the grammar school. Damn!

I have been jumping from one bike to the other so much that everything was off the road bike. In my haste to get out today I forgot my riding glasses but I had turned back for them when I hit the first downhill and the 38 degree air hit my eyes at 30 mph, painfully blurring my vision. I didn't even think about my repair kit until I was too far back into the ride. It figures, the one day when I'm without it.

So, I turned a good ride into a quick paced and strenuous 3mile walk in bike shoes. I could certainly feel the burn. I was okay with it. I was certainly going to learn my lesson and I was going to make the walk as effective as possible. And so I did.

I was a bit sore in the evening and as I raced around the TV studio wearing my many hats and producing/directing two great shows. Each time I bent or stretched, I hurt. I'm sore and hurting today. Each time it hurts, I'm happy. We're back!!!

Now I understand the line in the song from John Cougar Mellencamp... It hurts SO good!!

November in review.

I bet you've been thinking that the colder temps have forced me to hang it up for the season.
Well, weather is a factor, but not as much as you might think. I won't go out in a downpour or if the roads are covered with wet leaves, cause that's just silly. But snow on deserted roads in the Catskills... sounds like fun!!


The early November snow wasn't sticking to the roads, but it was gorgeous on the grass, the trees, the cars and everywhere else. I had a lovely trek as the snow was falling all around me and the tires were splattering wet stuff up my back. Solitary, cold, quiet, damp, absolutely gorgeous. I could forget the fact that my biking tights were soaked, that my legs were frozen and that I was in a totally unfamiliar area. I had no idea what would appear around the next corner, how challenging the next hill would be or how treacherous the road might become. I could turn where it interested me and back-track anytime I wanted or I could head back to thaw myself with a warm shower. This was my journey that I could end if and when I wanted to end it.

There's nothing quite like being out there alone. You get to experience things on your own terms to your own satisfaction. It's a bit of a narcissistic gift, but something that we should all take time to do, in one way or another.

Mountain biking has had that appeal for me. The rides I've taken so far have been alone. I've had the opportunity to discover my abilities without following any set guidelines.

One week, Rob told me the there was a lake in the woods, I had to find it on my own. The next week, he mentioned a tower at the top of a mountain and a foundation from an old castle or house... yep, had to find that too. I got myself in and back out of some tough situations that I would never have attempted if I didn't have the goal set in front of me.

I've taken some spills and learned from them. I tried to navigate over a log and learned that if you don't pull up enough, It can take you down like a bug on a windshield(Logs make big bruises). I also learned to expect the unexpected. While transferring from one track along a pipeline to another, I hit an invisible patch of sand that tossed me off my bike and landed me with my face inches from one of the coolest mushrooms I'd ever come across. A wide and nearly flat, barely pink cap, round except for a heart like dip in one spot. Cool... If I hadn't fallen, I'd never have seen it.

I also figured out that your tongue should always be firmly planted behind your teeth while on trails.(Fortunately, I did not learn this one by error but by projection while going down an incredibly bouncy incline, teeth chattering from the impact of the terrain on the wheels... Imagine if...)

I've learned that there are certainly times for riding without having your shoes clipped in(so you can ditch easier) but never a time when your feet shouldn't be in control of the pedals. I learned that particular lesson riding down a single track on the pipeline. Brutally bouncy and rocky, feet unable to find the pedals, legs dangling, too treacherous for a lot of breaking, and all the while bouncing on and off the saddle like I was riding a bronco and waiting to get tossed(that's one ride where I was very thankful for not being a guy!) I held on all the way to the bottom by sweat and prayers. Then put my feet on the pedals where they belonged.

More lessons; always know what's ahead of you and... it isn't over till it's over. Coming down a fire road at a good clip, I took my eyes off the road for a second. Then, I slid on small rocks while avoiding some large ones. I lost control just enough to run off the road and into a wide ditch with very treacherous rocks and dips. I knew I was going down and was hoping for a soft spot to land on. Then, just before the ditch ran me into a large cement drainage pipe, I pulled up and got back on the trail. Holy crap! My heart was in my throat! It may have been all of 5 seconds of peril, but I saw my life flash before my eyes!

And after all of this, I still wanted to get back out there and see what I could do.

Another time, I hit some real single track that Rob, again, had mentioned. I must have hit the wrong trail at first, cause I couldn't imagine that he'd ever send me on this one intentionally. I'll call it the "Black Trail of Death". No way, no how anybody was ever riding up this thing and fairly unlikely anyone was riding down it either. It started with four feet of nearly vertical rock face that I had to shoulder my bike for and climb up. If you were going down it, there was zero room for error and a sharp, narrow, unforgiving trail as you came off the drop. Up was surely the way to go... that is, if at all, and if you had little concern for self preservation.

After the climb, it was a short but very technical run into a the "Yellow Trail of..." (come up with any name you like) that ran through the woods. I did climb the yellow trail. I went through young trees so close together that I had to lean from side to side to clear the handle bars through the saplings.

I worked my way up a couple good inclines on this single track trail that I wouldn't have thought I was strong enough to attempt. Then, as all things that go up, so they must come down, I faced an intimidating downhill. I stopped to size it up. Or, to make my list of excuses.

It was getting late, I was alone, I wasn't sure how much further this trail would take me or when it would get me back into the parking lot, so I decided to turn around on this yellow trail and head back to the twisty carriage road I was familiar with. Funny thing, as I backtracked on the trail, going down the hills I had come up seemed even more intimidating than the downhill that suggested I turn around!

So here's the thing, the way we look at an obstacle can determine whether we can overcome it.

If we determine that the road is too long, the mountain too high, the journey too tough, we might as well take a nap and forget that they exist. But if you're in it for the adventure, the challenge, the accomplishment or just the fun of it, you might find power and drive within yourself that you didn't know existed.
Does this hold true off the bike?
Does it hold true in real life?

Try it... and you tell me.

Till our next adventure,
Sandie

Head for the Hills!!!!

Yes, the weather has turned from a seemingly endless autumn to the crisp air of fall. The trees are beautifully emblazened with melon, yellow, russet and orange. So, what is one to do? Get on a bike and tour the mountains, of course!!

Well I naievely took a little run through the woods on my antique mountain bike and instantly thought "Hey, I could do this!" I was riding at the foot of the Allamuchy range, alone, during down time at a music festival. The trails were narrow and a bit hilly. There were roots to ride over and some rocks to do battle with. There was one curve that was perilously close to a 20 or so foot near drop-off. I was living dangerously! Completing my chosen loop, I had to climb a fairly steep part of the trail that was littered with loose gravel and rocks. I breezed through the rest of the course like a seasoned pro.

I emerged worked, damp and happy. Hey, if this is what it's all about, I'm on top of it!

The next week, while searching for rides, I had linked to a page about a mountain bike race not too far from my home. I loved the idea! You see, they had a class for beginner women in multiple age brackets... heck, I could do that! Remember, you don't HAVE to win... completing is as much an accomplishment as placing. Right?

SO, midweek, before the race, I go to the place where they're going to hold it. I park near the only other vehicle in the lot and head out on a supposedly well marked trail. It's a wide path, some bumps and rocks and stuff to go around. I climb a hill and cross another path. I go down a hill. It's pretty darned bumpy littered with rocks. What do I know?... maybe these courses are supposed to be like this. I ride past a hugely steep incline and drop off that pummels down into a ravine. Some of the road here seems to be missing and recently replaced. I go down another incline. The road is incredibly bumpy and covered with rocks. I'm bouncing around so much my eyes seem to be twirling in their sockets, I can't focus, I can't even see the road. It's like the time you drank so much in college that the room spun and everything you saw was in threes and fours... The night you swore to God you'd never drink again if He'd only let you live. Yea, it was like that, only without the nausea. This was insane and not in a good way!

I tell you, it was like riding a dry river bed! You ever walk a river bed? The best one I ever did was in Yosemite, we climbed Bridal Veil Falls to the lowest catch pool. We had to climb and scurry over countless boulders and past signs that listed the statistics of how many serious injuries occur right there by foolish people like us. Now, imagine riding a bike down it.

Okay, so the bike trail wasn't quite that bad but it was close and it was all rocks. There were thousands of larger than grapefruit, baseball and apple sized massess mingled with walnut and grape sized rocks. I was going downhill with the same downhill advantage I have on the road(not too cool here) and bouncing around so much I couldn't see straight while fighting the brakes to slow down or stop or do something while trying to decide which blurs to ride on and which to avoid. When I finally did pull to a stop I looked at the road ahead. More of the same rocks, more incline and a bend. What are you nuts? I've got to be on the wrong path. This HAS to be for ATV's.

I went back up the hills to where the road crossed and re-read the signs. There's a picture of a bike on an arrow. The road I was on had a picture of a knobby tired thing that looked more like a motorcycle and had a figure with a full face-masked helmet. I don't know... I do better with words than pictures, I guess.

So I followed the new trail and went up a gravelly and rocky incline where I didn't shift properly and lost momentum. I clipped out of my pedals but wasn't able to catch myself as I fell hard on the uneven ground. To add interest, I fell on a good incline and the momentum of falling back threw my feet over my head and I did a complete backwards somersault, planted my feet and stood up... and the crowd cheered! ...I was thankfully alone and nobody witnessed it.

I continued the trail to a place where it split and couldn't tell which way to go. After a little contemplation, I went right and eventually came upon a place called Thunder Mountain. It had rusty things in a yard, fencing and "Keep Out" and "No Tresspassing" signs all over. It looked a bit like what I might imagine a paintball range to be like but there were no paint spatters. Deserted and alone, with one flickering neon sign in the window, it felt a bit more sinister. It was on an old road, but I had no idea where I was, where it would lead or if it went anywhere at all. Time to head back.



On the way back I managed to pick up a sizeable stick in my spokes while I was barely rolling. It's a good thing I was going slow, I kicked out quickly and stopped as it slammed into my ankle and drew just a little blood. This was the kind of thing that would throw a rider over the handlebars without warning. Now the bike was essentially stabbed through the heart... shall I take it as an omen?

When I got back to the lot, the guy parked next to me was changing out of his sweaty shirt and loading his bike in his truck. I had seen his fresh tire tracks in a few places on the trails but not enough to track him and tell which route was good for riding. It had just started to drizzle...

"Looks like we got out just in time.", he said. I replied, "Ride here often?" ;-)

He said he was coming for the race on Sunday. I told him I was here to try it out and see if I should enter the race. My decision was a resounding no. I did not have the right tool for the job. If the race was on the trail I rode, I needed a newer bike with shocks, not a 17 year old model with no bounce. He agreed but said I should try it anyway... "the people are so supportive". And heck, I was out here doing it... nobody else was.

Well as things do, it ate at me. By Saturday, I was convinced that if I didn't try, I'd kick myself about it till next year. Sunday morning I hemmed and hawed and efficiently wasted enough time that I arrived too late to register for the beginner class race. So, I did the next best thing, I volunteered!

That was a great move!
I stood at the Start/Finish point with a group of race organizers and wrote numbers and times as racers completed their laps. I saw them coming down a nasty deer trail thingy they called single track. It was NOT something I'd ever want to do on the bike I had. In fact, nearly all of them had these souped up bikes with shocks and springs and floating suspension... the right tools for the job! A few had single speed(one gear, no shifters) bikes, but they went out in a class of their own(they seemed a bit nerdy, kinda like tandem bikes seem nerdy) I saw how the race and the ride worked and got to know a few of the important people while saving my butt from certain injury. A good day!

I left happy that I didn't race but wanting to try that kind of riding. I still had no idea what the entire course was like as I only saw one small section but with the right bike for the job... I'd be more than ready to try.

Riding with another group

A perfect day for a ride!!
I joined up with a group from a local touring club for a 35 mile ride up the Hudson river.
The difference between me and them, they were a bit older and they liked to see things, enjoy the route, not eat it up.

Okay, here was a pace line I could keep up with and learn in.

Lesson #1. Know your leader and his limitations. If he seems to run you through the dips for every little water or gas main valve and it's accompanying bone jarring thud, adjust your expectations and your distance behind him.

#2. Know the pace your group plans to ride and keep with it and be happy, or find ways to burn your pent up energy.
I sprinted back to the deli where they planned to get lunch to expend some of my wattage. After lunch, one of the guys said to me, "You're like a real athlete!"







#3. Enjoy the sights. The views were fabulous. We rode under the Tappan Zee to the base of the Palisaides. We stopped to see some special houses. And we stopped to see a wonderful menagerie of statues I termed the Bronze Zoo...(Bronx Zoo-get it?) It was unbelieveable, every corner of the yard in and outside the fences had multiple metal statues. (How do you know when you've got too much damned money? When the Bently and the Rolls and the Lamborgini and three other grills I couldn't identify are jammed as close together as the crowded statues.)

#4. When you're following a really good leader, stick close and let him know how much he's appreciated. The second leader, the guy who led us home, was a real pacer. He had good eyes and only ran me through one avoidable bump that caught him with his eyes off the road, otherwise he was great and steady and I kept on his tail and the other girl(I rode with a girl!) kept on mine. I liked following him and I told him so. We ended up splitting from the slower guys, but this was their home turf and these guys rode together all the time, so all was good. It was a good end to a nice ride with new people and sights.


Wed, Oct 3

While my car was being checked for a squeal in the brakes, I went to face the demons on the hill on my regular route.

I planned it carefully and worked it well marking in my mind where I needed to concentrate.
I hit the first climb well. The second climb, the big one... I climbed it at double my usual pace. I never touched the granny wheel and didn't even hit the lowest gear in the middle set. In fact, as I climbed I started to upshift on the last third of the hill. I very briefly considered a victory lap to the shop just to tell the guys. I don't need no stinkin' granny wheel!!

Yes! We're well on our way. I consciously kept the pace up to the end where my car was ready for me. I finished nearly 2mph above my usual pace. A good day!

I do need to work more on hills and develop my upper legs some more, but I'm pleased at my progress. It's going well and I'm making crazy new plans for myself.

This weekend, I'll be running Sound at a music festival and will be doing some mountain biking in the down time.
It's good preparation for my next challenge to who knows where...

Oh, and did I mention that I intend to compete in at least a biathalon next year?

Go ahead and call me crazy, cause I like it when you think I "can't".
But, it's not as far out of reach as you might think!

So, anyone for a ride? How 'bout a swim?

Specialized comes through

Sept 29

It took some convincing, but Specialized came through for me.
I refused to have the third Gossamer/FSA crank put on my 3 1/2 week old bike. Being bike fanatics on a scale well beyond me, they understood and bent over backwards to get me the Shimano crank. (If they hadn't you never know what might have happened!) It's on. It works. I'm happy.

Rob is relieved. I never questioned his technical skills, but under the circumstances, Specialized did. It's easier to blame the little guy in the shop than the big company supplying thousands of these cranks for their products. In fact, from what I've seen him do, and how I've seen him work, the list of people allowed to touch my bike has shrunk to Rob, me and maybe Tony. Period. Why? I can only equate it to the skill you'd see in a fine luthier, someone who intimately understands the individual instrument, listens to it speak, and carefully brings it's voice to true. That's an artist. How could I trust anyone else?

So, with my new and oh, so sexy titanium crank, I hit the Saturday route later than ever before. There was no time advantage, so I cut a couple blocks off the route and I kicked it in high gear. Really, really high gear. I swore I wouldn't make it 3 miles before they overtook me. I was riding consistantly around 20mph, they're typically at 25, but I didn't even see them till beyond the S curve.

I stayed with them a bit longer than usual before we split. When I hit the hill I used the lessons I learned last week. Shut out the negatives. Cut the voices. Breathe. Believe. Become the machine.

The hill shrunk again. I wonder how much of this is due to building muscle power and how much is building brain power...

Three guys waiting at the top this time.

I made the decision to ride with the boys and see how long I could keep with the group at the bottom. I had realized last week in sprinting on the hill, I was so hyped up with the race/chase part that I was always spent by the time I hit the bottom. This time, I fell right in line and held back. I rode tight in the pack. For most of the length anyway, then I got tired of riding the brakes and let it go.

The trouble with flying ahead is in the nature of aerodynamics. It's easier to ride in the draft of someone else than to continue to cut head first through the wind in the front. That's part of the reason these guys go so darned fast, they can keep up the pace easier in the line and really only have to pull the group for a short time when it's their turn at leading off. When they tire of the front, they break off and ride the wake to the rear and slip back into the line. That's another reason why I can't keep up... yet. You can't go as fast for as long alone, and they're not ready to let me slip in.

Since you're riding critically close to all the other riders in a group, you really have to know and trust them. You can't see the road in front of you, so you rely on the guy ahead of you to avoid critical situations. At 43mph riding downhill on a bike, a pothole, a twig, a rain gutter, a rock, a puddle are all critical situations. Hitting any one of them unexpectedly can throw you and everyone else behind you into a twisted mass of bodies and bikes. Touching the wheel of the bike in front of you can have the same effect. Is it any wonder they're not eager to have me jump in?

Anyway, I coasted to the front at the bottom of the hill, rode it for a while until I felt the drag of the wind and then found myself checking out once again as the boys passed. Now, here was something to think about... I bailed and I knew it. I chose not to keep up, I decided I couldn't, and I took it easy. I thought I was alone as I turned at the light, not too far behind the boys. I was running the route through my mind and contemplating cutting it short at the end.

Rob's voice suprised me from behind. "Come on Sandie, Show me what you're made of."

Busted!!!

If I had any idea he was back there, I would have kept up the chase. But since I had already quit, I couldn't get back into the game to chase Rob or the guy behind him. One more lesson learned.

I managed to recover some speed and complete the route and took home a bunch of food for thought.

In with the boys...

I just finished 125 miles last weekend and did a quick 16 miles on Wednesday to get my speed up. All was good 'till my gears slipped again. The bike issue is not resolved and Specialized is sending yet another replacement part. This time they want to replace the entire crank. That's not good enough for me. They need to do better.

I worked this entire season for last weekend and my time, performance and pleasure was compromised by mechanical failure. And it was compromised on the century I did a couple weeks ago. Uncool. I paid for a high level precision machine, I should have a high level precision machine, not something that needs to go back to the shop each time I ride it. This will be the third set of rings on this bike... I have no confidence in this gearset. Replacing it again is unacceptable.

End of rant.

I went out this morning a bit later than usual.
I had a 3-5 minute head start on the guys.
My gears spun a bit early on but I got my speed back up and wasn't going to let it throw the whole ride. I was pushing it faster than usual. I really wanted to be on the hill with the guys and the late start was not going to let that happen. I pushed it so well that they didn't catch up until around the S-curve. I saw them coming. Damn! I pushed up my speed some more.

The lead man... "Hey Sandie" Another one, "How "ya doing?" another "Hey" then "Sandie"... My gosh, the guys can talk!! I think I heard at least six of them acknowledge me. Wow!! What's up with that?

They did pass me, but they seemed slower than usual. Off they went on the loop and I headed for the hill.

Right at the base of the incline I felt it, and heard voices tell me that today wasn't going to be the day, that I would end up walking it, that the strain from last week's 125 was showing up now. I shut them out. I hunkered down, watched my problem areas in the gears, kept my thoughts on the rhythm and the breath and kept my eyes four or five feet ahead on the road.

Something happened while I was away last weekend... somehow, they took a whole hunk out of that hill. It was smaller!! I didn't walk it. I dammned near rocked it!! I was at the top! I had a smile as wide as the road. This feels great!

One of the guys that got a late start climbed the opposite side of the hill for punishment. We met up at the top and hovered, waiting for the pack. It seemed a real long time. The other guy commented, "Where are they?" I started to get concerned, then the first helmet... and then the pack.

I'm here. I'm ready. They start to roll. Not losing me this time. I'm in the back of the middle. I go outside. they're too far out, I'm on the yellow line. Holding it back... not yet... waiting... the first incline, a bit more speed. I catch up with the front four. The real incline. I pass three and it's me and the lead guy. I'm a bit back and start to up the speed, he responds in kind. We're going at it and I start to just edge ahead, millimeters then half an inch then I know I've got it.
I turn to him and say "This one's mine." And I turned it on.

I flew down that hill. I ate it up. Inside, I screamed triumphant. My best performance yet, and I led the pack.

They caught up quickly at the bottom.
I turned to the lead guy, this time on my left and said "The rest is yours."

As he passed, Tony said "Good work." A few other voices pass but I don't hear the words...
Suddenly, the air is somehow sweeter... I breathe it in deep. Man, this is good!
The boys are not too far out of reach, but I'm not going to be able to catch them and keep up, I let them go.

Then the rain comes.
Fine, like the burst of mist from popping the cork on a bottle of champagne. It smells sweet, it feels sweeter. I lift my face to it and drink it up.

Yea, I'm still smiling.
Later, I'll go to the shop and bring Tony a sample of one of the fuels I experimented with, the honey and protein mix. I don't use it anymore. Now I use more pure protein, I cut the honey and the carbs. He can't believe I've done my rides fueling on protein or that I have any power at all while avoiding the number one source of fuel for almost every athlete. Carbs. Sugar. Pasta. I don't touch any of them. He asks if it affects my performance. I can't answer that because I never rode when I ate carbs. I'd like him to take the challenge and see what happens if he cuts them out of his diet. I'll see if he'll give it a test.

And I'll ask the question...
I want to know that the boys didn't give that run to me.
I want to know that I took it fair and square.


Edited 9/24
When I asked him, Tony looked at me square in the eye and said, "Nobody gives anybody anything out there."
....They couldn't even get a draft off me. :-)

The ride we've all been waiting for....

Friday night, I opted to stay home and get packed and in bed early. Of course, early is a subjective term and at 11:30 pm I went to bed early. I woke a bunch of times and listened to the rain. I hit the snooze button once, twice... the next thing I knew it was 6:30. Damn! I should be on the road! Quick shower quick eggs quick protein drink and out the door.

When I got on site, It was controlled madness with a sprinkling of light rain. Got my packet, got my numbers, had the Wayne police pin my numbers on...it was nice to have the home team on board! I didn't do too badly getting all my gear stowed and my bike packed and I went out at 8:15am. I had the road to myself for a little bit as the rain fell gently. I was glad I took the time to put my under-armour shirt on in the car... it helped cut the chill from the cool morning air and the breeze on damp skin. It rained lightly for a while then a bit heavier before it broke and the sun came out. Then, it got hot. By the first rest stop I couldn't wait to get the long bike pants and shirt off. I waited 15min to use the porta-john to change and quickly hit the road again.

The stop was pretty early @ 10 miles, so I didn't need anything. I've been battling with slow starts all season, taking time to really get moving, and I felt it a little today, but not as bad as usual. I think dropping caffeine and most carbs from my diet was finally making a positive impact. And taking off the hot, long, black stuff didn't hurt either. I found a bit more energy.

Then the hills... I certainly was draggin' my wagon again. The first couple of challenges, I couldn't have done without using Eric's head. Eric is a friend I interviewed on our show a few years back. He and Dan Navarro(Dan has a voice that melts me to the core) make up the awesome musical group, Lowen & Navarro(check 'em out, you'll be glad you did! http://lownav.com/) Eric was diagnosed with ALS a few years back and has been an inspiration to me with his determination and drive in the face of his mountains... he's part of the reason I got on a bike in the first place... Comparing my trials as miniscule to his daily struggles has given me the strength to go up many hills I otherwise would have bailed on. Yes, our challenges are different, but refusal to give up when the going gets tougher than tough is a common bond between those that struggle to navigate walls thrown in their path.

As the morning went on and the further along I went, the better and stronger I felt. And on the third stop, the lunch stop, I chose to breeze through and hit the power loop. The power loop would come back to this rest stop in 21 miles. Surely, I could do that. And then there was this ridiculous hill. It just wouldn't end! Somehow, it didn't seem as steep as the monster I climbed for the century, but it beat me up, just the same. my gears choked on me and I walked up it a bit. I was trying to ignore the conversation in my head on whether or not I should turn around.

Then... the view!!! You couldn't get more pituresque if you imagined it yourself! It was like coming through the canopy of a rain forest and seeing whispy clouds brushing the tips of mounds of foliage covered mountains and then, the downhill, whooo hooo!!!! Speed a-plenty! It was so glorious I even touched the brakes a bit on this one as it curved down the mountain!(God, I certainly don't want to climb up this one) After it leveled off, the road shoved a bit to the left and went over an open grate metal bridge. The bridge was pretty rough and then a curve and gravel and grit on the road... a recipe for disaster!

I saw a rider off the bike and called out, "Are you okay?" as I passed. I was still going at a pretty good clip but I hit the brakes and turned around because something wasn't right about her standing there. I came around and saw. She got thrown after the bridge and had road rash in a number of places. Her upper thigh was swollen and raw like she rolled in paint. She wouldn't admit much, but she was really hurting. She said she had called and was waiting for the SAG and that I should continue my ride, but I stopped 'cause you don't leave a downed rider alone. I told her I'd wait with her. She was in front of a deli in the middle of nowhere and she didn't go in to get ice or water for fear of missing the wagon! In fact, she had waited an hour already and her cell phone was now dead. I called SAG... they had been looking for her but didn't know she was on the power loop.

I got ice from the deli for her leg. As we waited, we chatted a bit. She did this route often and was training for a race in two weeks. She projected that her chances of that bid was over, she's a Physical therapist and felt she tore her calf muscle. We were both glad I stopped. We waited another 20 min for the ride. By then, I decided I'd best ride SAG back to the previous rest stop. No sense continuing the power loop at this point, it was safer to save some of myself for the next day.

Back at the stop, I filled my bottles with water, added my powder, choked down some of my goo(my recipe was too thick this time) and off I went. The rest of the day was good and enjoyable. Towards the end of the ride I spent a bunch of time jockeying with a kid. He was somewhere between 11 and 14 and he was fast and good. We clipped along at @ 23MPH together and chatted a bit. I told him he was good and asked him if he was thinking about going into racing. He said he already is, then I noticed his shorts and jersey. Something about a racing team... yea and he was hanging with someone old enough to be his mom! As we made the last turn and headed up to the hotel, we made tentative plans to look for each other on Sunday.

In in just under 6 hours, Including the power loop and SAG. My ride time was just over four hours putting my avg speed @15 MPH Bunches faster than last year. At the hotel, the beer was good, the food was good, I met a rider in the lobby with a case that looked suspiciously like a guitar case. We exchanged brief bio's and made plans to meet later.

Later, I walk into the room and am greeted with... "Hey, you wouldn't happen to have a set of strings, would you?" "You're kidding!" He just broke his A string at the ball end. "All I have is my bike tool." I went to get it and returned to witness the most amazingly whacked out method of dealing with a broken string. He twisted the end around the ball(I think) jammed the bridge pin in and it didn't want to go. So, he took the bike tool and began to pound the pin into the bridge. I was aghast!! Then, he let one of his bandmate's girlfriends pound it a bit! It was the most painfully horrific experience. Like fingernails on a chalkboard mingled with witnessing a gruesome carnage that you just stare at with amazement cause you can't turn away(This man will never touch any of my Taylors).

To beat all, it worked!!! He didn't crack anything and though his strings were neatly trimmed he had just enough left to grab and hold in the tuning pin. We played and had a great time. His bandmates were all there and they sounded pretty darned good. What a great bunch of people on this tour! After a bit we hit the bar for a drink.

Coming into the bar, I passed a man who must have come from the pool for a drink as he was sitting with his tiger striped speedos well exposed. He kindly invited me to have a seat. Stunned speechless, I stuck close with my group. Speedo man kept trying to work his magic on unsuspectingladies. We had a great time, then it was 1:15!!! What??? wake-up calls at 6am... I got another offer from speedo man on the way out to which I replied, "Nice, but I've seen better." and "You must be so proud." I got him good on that one... his buddies got all choked up. ;-)

Well, if you've made it this far and realized I've only skimmed the surface of this experience and want to mark your calendar for next year's tour... sept 13-14. You'll have a hell of a good time too. I promise. For the strong, and those that have too much free time, let's get to Sunday.

Sunday

6:30 am, not too restful a sleep, but happy anyway. I made my drink mixes and protein shake, downed a 33oz bottle of water and headed to the dreaded buffet breakfast. It was worse than I imagined. I'm a two eggs over light kind of girl and the lumps of tasteless blobs of yellow tinged clumps of rubbery blech they passed off as eggs.. I honestly couldn't swallow. There was nothing else I could stomach either. I was so glad I brought soymilk and my mix, that was all I had for fuel.

I grabbed my bike. Rear tire flat. Damn! Tech was out back and adjusted my gears a bit since the chain jumped off on Sat, but he had no tubes. The next tech team arrived with tubes and found a metal shaving in my tire. My first flat, better here than on the road. He fixed the flat and did more tune-ups on the brakes, spokes and gears.

40 min after the start of the ride, I headed out. We were warned very strongly that if we missed the 8am start, we would be automatically SAGged to the first rest stop. No way in hell I was getting SAGged... I rode out. At the first stop I jumped off the bike, stripped off the long pants(I had the shorts under), stowed them in my pack and headed out again.

I hit the downhill speedway that was the highlight of my tour last year and wound up riding pretty tight with a lone guy from another team. We sparred and chatted and had a most pleasurable run, passing bunches of people. And the hill that got me last year... I climbed it. Although, slower than the muscle man I was riding with, I did it and rode with him again later till the next stop. I breezed past it, intent on making up time. Within 2 miles of the third stop, I ran out of steam. I hadn't paid attention to hydration and was about 30oz behind, My speed was way down. I was out of fuel. When two guys passed and said it was less than 8 tenths of a mile to the stop, instantly, I got a burst of energy.

Tuna... I could eat and tossed the bread, restocked fluids and poured my last protein mix into a bottle of water and downed it. I got out within 20 min and felt the difference pretty quickly. Then came the hills. One was listed on the cue sheet as a BAD hill. If they admit it, you know you got trouble!! First incline, accomplished, a quick downhill a sharp left and a quick shift for the next climb and the chain popped. DAMN!!! I was in a good gear and it still jumped! By this time I've had enough experience on the bike(nearing 300 miles) that I've figured out when I'm right and when I'm wrong. Tired and not thinking, I have shifted wrong a few times but this was clean and it jammed.

Fortunately, it was at the base of the huge incline so I was able to spin it into gear, get on and attack the hill. It was long and brutal. I used the voices to keep me going. One of the most instrumental was Tony from the shop. He's a great guy and a pleasure to chat with, I've got a few good tips and observations from him. I replayed him saying, "I wish some of the new guys could watch and learn a few things from you. You sit solid in the saddle and don't bounce around. You've got a good clean rhythm. Your music background must really make a difference even if it's sub-conscious.", "We're all hurting out there. If you think we're not, you're dead wrong." and "If you can move at the end of the ride, you didn't work hard enough." His voice helped me up a bunch of hills.

I had gone to the shop on Friday since I was feeling a bit nervy and was really looking to chat with Tony for a bit of encouragement, but he wasn't there. I have done all of this training on my own and figured it out as I went along. It feels natural to me and most of the things I've learned alone are right on, but there's a wealth of things you can get from more experienced riders that can make all the difference. I wanted to hear more things I was doing right.

Tony wasn't there but Rob helped me. I asked him to pump my tires to max. Good thing I did, Rob showed me how to work the valves... on these racing tires you have to unscrew the brass threaded cap under the black cap to open the valve. I'd have pumped forever and got nowhere. So, I admitted to Rob that I came in for air and a bit of coddling. He smirked a bit at the honesty and said "You just banged out a century. This will be nothing for you." Ka-ching! Once again, I got just what I needed. In fact, I had a bit of trepidation before doing my last ride. And it was Rob's voice saying "You're an experieced rider." and "62 miles is well within your capabilities." that helped fuel my brain for the century. Ya' know, he isn't much of a talker, but he's supportive and non-judgemental, and his few words have always been the right ones.

It's funny, I compose a lot in the car and work things out in my head and memorize and try new harmonies and make plans, but on the bike, it's a more single thought process. It's all about the body and the breath and the smooth transition of gears and feeling the road and the slight increased pressure on a climb that signals the need to shift to keep the rhythm of the strokes and the breath. It's really basic. And in the end, it's cleansing. That's why I love it so much. It's time for me when I can only think about the basic me. There is no room for anything else.

In the swamp on the later legs of the last day when I had a long stretch to settle into a great rhythm and good consistant speed, the thought process was, "Breathe, 2,3,4,exhale, exhale, Breathe, 2,3,4,exhale, exhale..." and it made all the differencein the world. It translated into all power.

Yes, there was the sore saddle. I've come to the determination that there are no kind bike shorts. Maybe that's why Lance Armstrong endorses this stuff they sell in the shop called "Butt Cream". I'll have to check into it...

The finish line. It caught me by suprise. Already? No, no power loop today, I'm satisfied. This year I'm in early enough to be greeted by crowds and cheerleaders and the paparazzi... well not the paparazzi, but the rest of it is true! There was food and a wait for a massage and a chat with some other cyclists. 600 people rode and I didn't meet a stinker in the lot. (though Speedo man could have tipped that way if he wasn't knocked down a few) All great people.

When it all comes down to it, these guys and gals are out there to challenge themselves and have a good time but the main reason is compassion. They want to give what they can to people who are afflicted by a senseless disease. I am honored and lucky as heck to be among them and fight the fight with them for all the afflicted people. I may be a tad closer to it, cause in the end, (hopefully later rather than sooner) I may need it too.

Today, I rode with the words on my back, "IN HONOR OF PAT, LEE, BARBARA and ME!!"
Next year, I want to ride with a special group of people. I want to make my own team of challengers. We'll have our own snazzy Jerseys that will bond us as people who may have challenges, but they don't have us. My son wants to ride. I found out Friday, he's facing another surgery for a benign bone tumor, and unfortunately, my daughter is too. We have challenges, but they don't have us.

Join us. Donate if you can, I have 3 more weeks to collect and your gift can make all the difference.

It's all said and done. I feel great. 125 miles and I'm not in pain(except where the massage therapist rubbed too hard).
The scale... I burned over 4,000 additional calories by riding this weekend and I gained two pounds. I'll look at the bright side... It means I hydrated well and maybe it is all muscle anyway... ;-)

Thanks for your love and support.
I'm forever grateful,
Sandie

It takes the first push to get the ball rolling, takes the first puff to start the wind blowing, takes It takes the first drop to form the mighty seas... S Reilly

It's almost here!!!!!

It's Thursday night.

Less than 31 hours till check-in.
Less than 32 hours until my heart races and the adrenaline pumps and a cascade of near a thousand shoes clip into pedals and the gentle crunch of wheels grinding sand into the pavement as we roll out. The chaos of the check-in melts and the chatter of riders yields to the chatter of shifting gears while riders find their position... slowly, we're off. I can picture the first long curve as we head out of the lot. It comes around to the left. I'll be out on the inside waiting for the pack to stretch and thin out till the break where I find my rhythm. Fast enough to get the stretch going and the blood circulating and the breath remembering how to go deep for efficiency.

I'll adjust my rhythm to control the adrenaline rush that will want me to race like a thoroughbred but would spend me just as quickly. No, we're in for the long haul on this one. Sure and steady and strong throughout, that's the way to go. My breath will be even and smooth and from the saddle, vocal training will afford me an advantage here. Later I'll sprint, much later, when everyone else is spent and my power just begins to surface.

I go over all this in my mind. If I set the stage, I can control the action and I can master this ride.
I have my time goals, my hill strategy and my rest stop critera. I'll skip the first rest for sure, so don't look for me there, I won't need anything yet. I am armed with the voices of many supporters and I'll pull those words out as I need them in the challenges. I'll let them whisper to me in the wind past my ear. I'll do fine, I'll do fabulously, I'll have the time of my life.

You'll be with me.
Call me if you can. If I can't answer, leave voicemail that I can get when I need your encouragement most.
Check out the route(link on the right) cheer as we pass. Ride along for a while if you can, but if you do, be very careful and WEAR YOUR HELMET!!!! Sponsor me if you can for as much or as little as you can, it all counts and it's all good.

I had my jitters on Monday and Tuesday when it was raining and I couldn't ride and the energy just had to get out, but I am okay today. I'm nearly packed, I have my supplements ready and I'm confident in my choice of fuel. I am really looking forward to this. I've waited a year, trained nearly four months and met every goal I set for myself so far. I'm prepared.

I'll keep you in mind and try to remember the best parts to share with you, and I'll write you when I can.

Namaste,

Sandie

Ethics, morality and compassion

I handed out a letter to neighbors and others to let them know about the bike tour.
I gave them info so they could support me if they wished.

One of them responded that they cheered my efforts but could not support the cause since some funds were appropriated to embryonic stem cell research. Being unaware and not real comfortable with this, I had to do some soul searching. I have since researched and found that you can donate with the stipulation that your funds do not go to such research and I have decided to make that request when I hand in all of my pledges from all of you. If you disagree, please let me know and I'll exclude your pledge from that stipulation.

I decided to let you all in on the note since it delves deeper into my motivations. Being so focused on the muscle end of this event, I hadn't spent much time with that and I think it's important for you to know.

I've removed names for privacy(I'm not sure they'd care) but the recipient is someone I respect highly who is also an activist for stopping embryonic stem cell research and encouraging adult stem cell research which may have greater success without the moral and ethical implications of destroying life.


Hi,

Thanks so much for your note.
I am pleased that you spent the time to read it and
even research the research methods. I must say I was
unaware of the embryonic research and I agree that
it's wrong to destroy human life to save human life.

I totally understand and appreciate your position and
hope that adult stem cell success will quickly
over-run ebryonic research. I hope that you will keep
fighting for that end.

Supporting something I don't believe in lumped in with
what I do believe in is a difficult thing, but I
believe the money I raise goes locally to help support
MS patients. I have seen their programs and seen what
they offer to patients.

It wasn't always so. In 1987, when I was diagnosed,
there was nothing for me. No support. No advice.
Just a bunch of "I don't know"s handed to me by my
team of doctors. I was a young college kid released
from the hospital with terribly uncooperative body and
a virtual good luck kiss. I desperately needed someone to
tell me there was life after diagnosis but I only got
silence.

I spent many years going through the motions of life
but not fully living because the "doom" was always in
the back of my mind. Symptoms would come and go over
the years and after the birth of my first child I saw
my Dr. with a "mild" exacerbation. He identified it
and said it was to be expected but was really "no big
deal".

I continued with doubt and confusion and few answers
until my latest exacerbation in March 2006. Then, I
got the info and the answers I was looking for. I
realized there could be life after diagnosis, mostly,
because I had lived it. Today there is information
that is accessible, there are support groups and
people that live out of the closet. Back then, there
was nothing for someone who wasn't sick enough.

I have been unbelievably lucky and I am unbelievably
grateful that, so far, I have MS in such a mild form.
But, I would have appreciated knowing all posibilities
back then. I would have appreciated meeting someone
with MS(instead of just hearing about some friend or
twice removed relative in Arizona). My first known
encounter with an MS patient was just a year and a
half ago! She's 60-ish, uses a cane and was diagnosed
just 7 yrs ago. Last year, I met a man with MS at the
Folk Project. He uses a wheelchair for mobility. He
is vastly different from me in his affliction, but I
feel like he's family. Finally, I have people like
me!

And that's truly why I am riding. I'm riding for
people I care about, because it could be me in that
chair... I ride to celebrate the fact that I can ride
and I can stand and I can play guitar and chase kids
and help run a music society and I can do anything I
choose to do. And now, I also do it because I have a
bunch of people who are following my blog and cheering
and living vicariously through what I'm doing and
little by little they are getting the strength to
conquer their own mountains... 'cause if I can conquer
mine....

Most of all, I'm doing it so some college kid who gets
handed a diagnosis of MS can take her wobbly life by
the reigns and live with hope and possibility.

Thank you for making me aware of the research. Thank
you especially for opening this conversation which has
helped me get my thoughts in order and find my
position. I hope your friends are getting the support
they need. If not, please point them to the Bergen
chapter, or to me and I'll happily get them there.

I admire your work and especially, your
teaching methods. You teach like I do, with love and
encouragement and support. I believe that those three
things can change the world.

Fondly,

Sandie Reilly

The Backpack Blues

What? You think I have the blues? Not a chance!
The kids head off to school tomorrow, RAH! RAH! RAH!

I am released from 90 days hardly labor! It really wasn't labor hanging on the beach and traveling, but it wasn't all fun either. I am literally exhausted from 3 months of negotiating, explaning, boundry setting, rule enforcement, dietary policing, stop antagonizing, quit hitting, no fighting, would you two please just knock it off-ing!!

I may just kiss the road the bus travels upon. I'll surely embrace the marching band teachers who insist on keeping my eldest a few hours after school. And for the girl scout leaders... showers of flowers.

I'm going for a ride!!!

Well, my new bike had a one in a thousand defect and is back in the shop. Rob was really great and explained it just so to the manufacturer and my new gear rings are on their way ASAP. I really am hoping I have no further trouble, cause it's cost a bit of love for the bike, cost a bit of skin and some blood when the chain popped off and I fell. I started balking at hills unsure if the bike was going to be with me or not. That's poison in the brain, man. You can't conquer a hill if you think you can't. You can't do anything if you know you're going to fail. You psyche yourself out. And you definitely hesitate attempting when the chances are good you'll pop the chain, loose momentum and end up sprawled on the pavement with your feet attached to a way-too-expensive-for-problems bicycle.

I'm confident the shop will take care of me, but for at least a couple days, it's back to riding the way-too-heavy mountain bike.

As soon as I drop the kids off at school, I'm going to meet a riding group in Glen Ridge that goes out at 9:30. It shoud be significantly easier to keep up with than the guys are, so the mountain bike shouldn't be too much of a handicap.

Good News!!!
More than a few of you have said you were encouraged to dust off your bike and start to ride again. And somebody asked if they could ride with me. I am honored. In fact, I decided to start a group route in the Morris Plains and/or Pompton Lakes area on fairly level ground at a beginner's pace and duration. So this is YOUR chance. Stop waiting for the perfect time... it's here!

Tell me what your preference is and let's get rolling! You will thank yourself over and over and over again!!!
Write me at Sandie@SandieReilly.com

I'll leave you with a note from a friend in from Maryland. He's a Singer/Songwiter/blues guitarist who I met and had the pleasure of playing with in Ocean City, MD. It was a once in a lifetime chance meeting where our guitars were attracted to one another(both being Taylor's, ya' know) and everything else followed. We were instant friends and mutual admirers. So cool. So profound. He made me smile with this one.

"Way to go Sandie !
One day s.one will write a song about this event.

Oh,oh,oh Sandie there ain't no mountain you can't climb
oh,oh,oh dear Sandie where there's a challenge you'll not hide
Many would have fallen, just not tough enough
Now you'll be a legend when your children are all grown up
Oh ,oh ,oh Sandie

Congratulations Sandie !
Your one of my heros."

And Mike, you're one of mine! :-)

Remember when...

An image for you...

Pooh drops in on Rabbit around lunch time. Rabbit, being polite to a fault, invites Pooh to lunch and Pooh being hungry to a fault, eats and eats until each of Rabbit's pots is emptied of honey. A sitcky, full and bloated Pooh leaves through the door he came in. Only, he gets stuck and hopelessly lodged. Nothing can budge him. So Pooh is stuck half in and half out of Rabbit's house for what seems an eternity until he loses weight. Poor Rabbit has to deal with the constant companionship of the south end of Pooh in his living room.

One day, when he is resolved that Pooh will never be unstuck, he leans against Pooh's rear and it moves.
"He Booged, he big, he bugged, He BUDGED!!" springs Rabbit, joyously.

That's the mental picture I got when my scale registered 2lbs less. After three months, could I have tapped into my metabolic wiring? I don't know, but gosh, it would only be fair!


This week was a bit of a roller coaster after I completed the Century. Though I was thrilled that I went so far, the backlash was, I felt like I exceeded my goal a month ahead of schedule. It was actually a bit of a let down. Having met the high mark, I felt that you might loose interest in what I was trying to do and it would be just me alone on the bike again.

Do you know that I take you on each ride with me? When I'm alone and things get tough, I hear your words of encouragement and support. When something funny hapens, I think of you laughing like you tell me you do when you read of the adventure. I think of just how I'm going to say it to you. When I'm having trouble, I think of your personal struggles and triumphs that you've shared with me and it all gives me fuel to go on. The idea of having you lose interest in our journey is scary.

You see, I go out each Saturday to ride with a bunch of guys who are way, way beyond my reach(Boy, I've heard that before!). I do a bunch of calculations on my speed and timing to judge where I'll meet up with them. I try to use it to my advantage to get me in with the pack at my strongest, for the longest I can. I'm hoping to work my way up to them, but feel I may have to die and be reborn a skinny guy to do it. At times, I'm tempted by Larry's offer for a Harley Davidson hybrid to blow 'em away in style;-) (Not really, but he makes me smile anyway.) It is each of you who are in my pack each time I go out. You're the ones who are with me on each turn, up each hill and flying down the other side, and I need you.

So, this week I was suprisingly unscathed from last week's ride. On Monday, my legs were slightly sore in one area and on Tuesday my forearms were tight and sore and my fingers were feeling it from the shifting and gripping but I didn't even need Advil(and no numbness, Yea!). I really expected to pay for it a bunch more but since I didn't, I think I probably just didn't work hard enough! :-) (And Jay, since you asked, suffice it to say that the bike shorts definitely have to go. I'm searching for kinder ones.)

And, that brings me back to my goal for September, to do it faster and better than before. Okay, so the goal hasn't changed.

Now, the answer to the burning question from two weeks ago, drum roll please... Chew me up and spit me out!

Yep, they certainly did. One guy said "How ya' do'in" as we waited at the top of the hill for the pack(they're getting friendlier about it). They never clipped out, never stopped. Someone said, "Ready, Let's go!" I rode downhill in the rear but they were already a flash, and I roared within 2 lengths of them. Then the two guys in the rear glanced back and saw me.

There was a quick spark. (Was it fear in their eyes or the sun on their glasses?) Then, like gazelles bounding from the clench of a racing lion, they stood in their pedals and stepped up the pace of the whole pack.

This time, Lion goes home hungry.
But there will be a next time....

Sandie goes all the way!!!

I really had no business doing what I did today.

I had no business even attempting it. My largest ride this year was 30 miles and didn't compare in any way to any of the multitude of climbs I was in store for today. I was not a bit trained or prepared for this grueling marathon of challenges that led me on a tour of the outer gates of hell... I kid you not.

It was tough getting to sleep last night. I was so excited about the ride and my new bike, I guess I managed to get in about 6 hours. Up at 5:45am, out the door at 6:30, on site and registering at 7. I got my cue sheet that listed all the turns and roads we'd be up against. Quickly, a shocked Holy sh*t escaped my mouth. Listed at the 18 mile mark was a road with a monster climb I was familiar with, as I rode it a million years ago whenever I overslept and had to ride my bike to High shool. It wasn't fun then, and unlike Hershey bars, it certainly didn't get any smaller over the years! Well, I walked it when I was a kid, I guess I could walk it today.

7:40 Off we went. I was in a group of about 25 riders playing cat and mouse as I really have a huge downhill advantage and a huge uphill disadvantage. Guys that would blow me away on the climb would shudder as I flew past on the payoff. Imagine a 747 passing at eye level with no warning... that would be me;-) Soon enough, I couldn't keep up and went it alone.

Though it wasn't really difficult at the beginning, by the 10 mile mark, I wondered what I was thinking when I signed up for this silly thing. By that time, the group was so far ahead and beyond my reach, that I went it alone. I had serious doubts I'd make it to 20. You see, there were a number of options for this ride, a fundraiser for a multi-handicapped children's center. There were 12, 25 and 45 mile rides. A few weeks ago I thought I'd do 45. Then, after shaking up the guys last week on my 30mile Saturday route, I decided 62 was more appropriate. As this week wore on, I was really nagged by wanting to go for more. I really thought I would like to try for 80, and I'd kick myself if I didn't try, but the next option was 100... way, way, way beyond my reach.

Well, I decided to go for it since I could and rely on the SAG wagon if I couldn't do it anymore. The SAG wagon will collect disabled and exhausted riders and transport them back to the finish/start line or even to a rest stop(or hospital, I guess). I felt there was no shame in SAGing if I needed it. So, what did I have to loose?

I made it to the hill that killed me as a kid. For the first time in my life, I climbed it without stopping. It's a double hill with a short leveling in the middle where it crosses a busy highway. It's 2.4 miles long with a 114 foot total climb. YIKES!!! Then a rest stop at the 21 mile mark. By this time, I had consumed a gallon of water and needed something more to replace everything I was loosing from the sweat pouring down my face. I refilled both my water bottles with Gatorade, throwing my carb conscious way of life to the wind. At that point, it was more important to keep from keeling over than to worry about a few carbs.

I have had a hard time dealing with the issues of fueling for serious rides. I recognize the need for fuel, and carbs as the best fuel for the job, but being highly metabolically resistant, they just make more of me! Trying to strike a balance between the need for carbs and protein, and refusing to eat the high fructose corn syrup and other garbage in typical power bars and gels, I found a recipe online for a gel using pure honey and blackstrap molasses. Fewer carbs, more nutrients. Adding in plain, unsweetened soy protein powder and pure unsweetened cocoa, I came up with a high protein, highly nutritious concoction with the taste and texture of brownie batter. YUM!! (Don't tell my kids! I've convinced them it's gross diet food!) This was my fuel for the ride, besides a banana and some orange slices and Gatorade from the rest stops. Seriously, going without food for the rides is like driving on empty... ya' ain't gonna get too far!

So, about the ride. It was a whole lot of up, which killed, and a bit of down, which(I think I mentioned)... I ROCK on! Trouble is, the ups take forever and the downs scream by pretty darned quick. I had to make a stop along the way cause a toe went painfully numb on a climb. And I had a bit of trouble with shifting. Since the bike was new, the gear cables needed to stretch and settle in like new guitar strings. But since I worked it so hard the "fix" they told me about in the shop wasn't enough to take up the slack. I ended up riding 10 miles in one gear before I got someone to look at it at the 70mile mark rest stop.

70 miles. If I had to end the tour there with bike trouble, it would be OK. I went well beyond anything I should have done and had no regrets(and no feeling in my butt beyond pain). SO, having nothing to loose, I got back on to see how far I could go. Ya know, in many ways, I did the last 40 miles better and smarter than the first 20. The last 15 were tough. My stomach tried to force out the tiny bit of turkey sub I ate at the rest stop. I wished it would hurry up and do it. The last 7 miles... I walked the long hill where a car slowed to offer me a ride(I'm just fine! Yes, I want to do this!) shortly after, the SAG wagon finally appeared(Are you kidding?). I dragged on the final leg, but I pulled into the lot I started from, all by my own power. 100 freakin' miles! 100 freakin' miles! Unbelievable!!!

8 1/2 hours on the bike, 1 1/2 hours in rest stops and unscheduled stops. 7:40am to 5:30pm... Call it a day's work done! Awesome!!!

I am reminded of the power of spirit and drive, determination and willpower. Of the faith of a mustard seed. Of the people who built this country, its railroads. Of the slaves, migrant workers and laborers who worked longer and harder every day than I did today. The people who work unrelenting to make a difference in the world. It's all of the same stuff, just spread in different places.

I am ready to ride again for 112 miles on Sept 15 and 16, to raise money for MS. The organization I'm riding for not only funds research, but does great things for individuals with MS. They offer free career counseling, yoga, aquatics, loan wheelchairs, help fund chair lifts, they offer a weekend camp for children of MS patients to socialize and have fun and learn, they offer scholarships to accredited camps for children and patients in the summer, the list goes on. Bottom line, they do real things for real people.

If you can ride, ride with me and prove to yourself that there is more power in you than you think.
If you can't ride, join in and support me. I'll carry your spirit with me on a great ride.

Much love,
Sandie

The After picture... I don't look tired enough!

Put me in, Coach!

After returning home from my trips, I immediately felt the difference in my riding. The training that I earned on the mountain translated into faster rides at home and easier climbs. I had more breath. I worked less to get the same results. I started my Saturday am rides from my house, saw "the guys" at some point in the route(though barely even a grunt of aknowledgement was emitted). I started finishing all my rides with a swim at our lake. 150-250 meters was what I would do. I found it to be a perfect way to cool off and stretch at the same time.

I am committed, I am loving it. It's time to start shopping for my own road bike. Countless stores and brands and sales reps. Some shops looked me up and down, decided I couldn't possibly be an athlete and treated me like a fool, some basically laughed at me. Yes, I can ride hard for 2 hours or more without stopping. Consider that an endurance sport. I can average 15 mph on a mountain bike, hills included and I am an athlete in my own right. So, I'm not in an athlete's body, but things are not always what they seem.

August 11, I'm on the ride on my mountain bike. I used a gel food for the first time in a ride. I felt the difference. In my mind? I don't think so. I've got good speed and endurance and the crest of the big hill seemed to come earlier. I feel great. Put me in, Coach, I'm ready to play!

August 18, Tony at Pedal Sports in Oakland, NJ(the shop) helped tune my Brother in Law's road bike for the ride. My first time doing it on a road bike. I was up till 1am, I'm tired. There was a head wind the entire time. I had no spedometer and had no idea how fast or slow I was going. I had no gel or food for energy. I had started my ride 5 or 10 minutes early and the guys caught up with me at the half way point, then did the four mile add on loop. I went ahead and climbed to the top of the hill then waited for them. After everyone was up, I clicked into my pedals with them to head out. What a sweet sound! Towards the back of the pack, I rode out. I don't know the guy ahead of me... suited up in riding gear and team shirts, they all look the same, but I recognize Rob, the shop owner behind me. We hit the incline. We own the road. I start to coast faster than the guy ahead is pedaling. I apply the brake lightly. I'm in with the pack, I don't want to be rude and step on toes...

Finally, I can't wait anymore. I like speed and I don't want to hold back. I give a couple thrusts and pass one of the guys on the left. It feels good... real good. Feeling exhilerated at being here after months of trying, I utter something of a triumphant grunt under my breath. I pedal my butt off part way down the hill then crouch down for aerodynamic advantage. I am flying. It is spectacular! The road bike is faster, leaner and meaner than the mountain bike and the ride is glorious! I pedal again at the bottom of the hill then coast, spent. Rob and the other guy pass me right before the light. I turn with them and they are off. The head wind is back. I'm drained.

Later in the day, I stop in the shop to make some final choices on the bike I'm going to order. Tony looks up at me and says. "Sandie, you scared a bunch of people out there today."
"What? Did it look like I was I out of control?"
Tony- "No, I heard you were passing people like crazy."
"I only passed one guy."
"That's not what I heard"
Then Rob popped in the room and chimed in, clearly amused. "You flew past Mike"
Tony- "You should have made vroom-vroom sounds as you passed him."
All laughing, "Yea, that would really kill him."
me- "But you guys blew me away at the bottom."
Rob- "It doesn't matter, the damage was done."

Wow! Is this an in? Did I do it? Did I earn an ounce of respect? Or will they chew me up and spit me out the next time I attempt to ride with them? Time will tell. Tomorrow my new bike should be in. I haven't been this excited since I bought my last Taylor guitar. I won't ride with the boys Saturday. I'm riding on Sunday. I'm entering a road rally/fundraiser for a multiple handicapped children's center. I plan to do the 62mile route. I'm contemplating the possibility of doing the 100 mile if I feel good enough. That's a century, 100 miles in one day. It's insane for me to think that big, but it's no more insane than last year's 112mi with 3 1/2 weeks of training.

Till soon,
Sandie

Gosh, I have So much to fill you in on from my training this year.

I started again in late May. A few weeks and I was about as strong as I was before the tour last year. It was time to move up to a bigger challenge. The bike shop I've been dealing with does a 30 mile Sat 7:30 am ride every week. I decided to join them. June 9. I arrive in the parking lot of at 7:15. It's a bunch of guys in great shape on real nice road bikes. I bet they're all younger than me too. I feel very intimidated. I do not belong in their secret male society. I'm not in shape, never have been, I'm a girl and I've got a mountain bike. They don't aknowledge me. It's alright, I'm not about to let it stop me. I'll prove girls can play too. Even if they don't want me there. It's tense.

JUNE 9, 7:30 on the dot. They clip into their pedals and head out. I'm right behind. I turn out of the parking lot, something grinds and ceases and my chain breaks. That's it. I'm out of the game and I'm pissed. The Shop owner, Rob rides up as I'm pushing my bike back to my car.
"Sandie... you broke your chain!"
"I know I broke my #$%^$% chain!"
Rob- "How are you doing?"
"Not real happy!" Devastated in fact. I had myself on an emotional roller coaster "Should I ride? I can't compete with them. I'm gonna ride. Stand tall. Okay, let's see how far I get." Then, SNAP!! It's over. "Why did you even try?"

I know why I tried, because I know I can do it. Maybe not as fast or as far as them today, maybe never, but I'll never get there if I don't try. My goal is September. Doing 112 miles again and doing it better than last year. Later in the day, I return to have my bike repaired find I've broken both my inner ring bearings.

JUNE 16, Let's try this again. I ride my bike to the shop this time. Get in line, clip out of my pedals to rest and catch my breath. Grab my water bottle take a swig and I hear an avalanche of clicks as they all ride away. Damn! I expect to have to earn their respect, but that's just rude! I set out and never see them again. It's a tough ride. I'm working very hard. I miss-navigate and have to make a left at a light. I do it legally, from the left lane. I'm the first at the light. It changes. I start out and have trouble cliping in. The cars behind me are not interested in waiting. I stand in the pedals for power to get out of the intersection. My left foot slips. I go down. My left leg slams against the pavement but my right leg is still clipped in. The bike shows no mercy as it pulls and drags, rips and extends my right leg.

I get up as fast as I can. The cars drive around me as I hobble from the intersection. I do inventory at the corner. My leg is numb, it's purple behind my knee, already swollen, I don't think anything is broken. Still, I really can't feel most of my lower leg. It's 3 miles to the hospital if I make a right. 17 miles home if I go straight. I re-align my bike and head straight... let's see how far I can go. I finish the ride and head home. Shadowed success. I wonder how much damage I really did.

Over the next few weeks I had to back off a bit and give my leg a chance to heal. I did see a sports Medicine surgeon. He said I definitely did nerve damage. He expects the nerves will begin to regrow in three months or so. He sees no reason for me to stop riding. I am relieved.

July 24, I'm at Falcon Ridge. I ride my bike up the dirt road to the upper pasture. It's tough as heck. I do it a few times over the next few days as I eye the mountain across the way. There is a road that carves along the side of it. It is a long climb. Probably near a mile. It's got to rise more than 200 feet. You can see the cars and tractor trailers slow from the load of climbing it. Wow! If only.... Later I see a group of riders coming down the hill... I am envious. Later still I see a few head up the hill, excruciatingly slow. They're all men, all fit, all power. Someday I'd like to be that strong.

I eye the mountain for three days before I attempt it. I set my sights on climbing 1/4 of the way... if I can get my nerves up. I head in the opposite direction for 6 miles then head back and fight with myself to attempt it. I go slightly further than my goal before I have to give it up. I'm tired, I'm sweaty, I feel great.

The next day I go 2 miles out to warm up and return to go 2/3rds of the way up the beast. It hurts. It's good.

I've been teasing my friend, Scott, with the mountain. He's doing a 350mile trek this year... he is taunted by the climb and finally calls me on it. After two days attempting to tame the beast, I'm tired but won't back off the challenge. We ride two miles out and back, then we hit the incline. Scott distances me right away. God, it hurts. I don't have it in me. I pass my first day's point. I'll never get there. I'm going so damned slow I'm liable to fall over. When I look ahead, I know I can't do it. I can't take in the whole climb. It's enormous. I can only manage if I concentrate one foot ahead of me. One foot, one push one breath at a time. Above my second day's climb, Scott stops to wait. Thank God, I can't go on. We cross the road and sit on the guard rail purveying the entire grounds of Falcon Ridge. It's beautiful. Listening to the music, enjoying the company, joking, sharing. Ready to go further? Yep. We reach the crest where it turns and goes into deep woodland. Now the payoff... downhill. I pass Scott and hit a max speed of 44.7mph on a mountain bike. Insanely good stuff. Insanely dangerous. Insanely satisfying. I have conquered the beast!!

I've used that lesson with my students since then and they have learned well from my story. Looking at the enormity of a challenge, the task can seem daunting. But taking little steps and making smaller goals makes any job manageable. We can all conquer our personal beasts whatever they may be... One step at a time