Tag Archives: cycling

Driver of that Giant Truck, I salute you!

Posted on April 14, 2016 | 6 comments

I am more than a tiny bit scared of riding my bike. This wasn’t a huge problem as a kid. But as a triathlete – it sort of sucks. How do you conquer a fear? Head on, friends. So, I ride. I ride in my living room on a bike trainer so that I can feel I have a mastery of my bike’s gears and my stupid (albeit useful) clipped in bike shoes. I ride in groups so that I can learn more about how to ride safely on the road. I ride with friends so that I can remember that going for a bike ride used to be something I did for fun. And I ride in spin classes so that I can build muscles that will help me drag my ass up hills.

But until today I have not ridden alone. There are a million reasons not to ride alone. It’s not crazy to not ride by yourself. But as a mostly stay at home mom I really want to train as much as I can during the week when the kids are in school. Unfortunately that is when my bike riding sidekicks are at work. A friend that is sidelined with an injury mentioned that instead of joining me for our Thursday morning ride she’d be happy to have my back if I wanted to just go ahead and ride. Mid morning on our almost empty country roads seemed like a perfect time to give it a go solo.

I wrote her phone number on an index card, put it in my shirt pocket and sent her a quick note that I was leaving before I chickened out.

The first mile is uphill. I wasn’t particularly creeped out. I was still so close to my house and going back and forth between being freezing and exhausted. I hadn’t any time to freak out. A few miles later I found my groove. I stopped obsessing over every single noise that my bike made and started thinking that maybe I could stay over 16 mph on average in spite of the three fairly decent hills on my route. I might even do a second loop. By the fifth mile I passed the turn to Emily’s school and giggled at a bit at our plans to stop and eat lunch with the kids. Nothing is more absurd than a person in head to toe spandex and bike shoes. We just need to wait until it is warm enough to wear our matching tri-kits to go for maximum ridiculousness.

By the time I was just about two miles from home I had decided to stick with the single loop and call it a win. Why tempt fate? I was content. I was warm. I could run when I got home and go out and do this again soon. I was a person that could ride her bike alone if need be. I didn’t die!

As I was headed up the last big hill about a mile from my house a car slowed behind me. There is no shoulder on this road (only a steep ditch) and I was riding the white line. I couldn’t very well move over and I appreciated the driver behind me just taking his time. I assume that the honking by the truck marked with a local HVAC company (that I shall not name only because it may very well have been an employee of this small company and not the owner so I am hard pressed to put you on blast) was to alert other drivers of my presence. Surely you didn’t mean that the car that was giving me a little space should speed around me on this hill where they can’t see oncoming traffic. Right? I did check out your website when I got home, local HVAC company… all those stock photo images of happy families – yep. You surely value the life of a mother of two so very much! Thanks for honking as if to say “Hey, Drivers! Take care near this cyclist!!” Jerk.

I shook it off. I pulled over at the soonest available moment and let the truck pass by me. With less than half a mile before I was home I was determined to end this maiden voyage with a smile on my face. There’s a killer downhill just before I turn into my neighborhood. I enjoyed it. I was warm (finally) and I was unafraid. I was a person that rides her bike!

I slowed down before I turned onto my street (because I am still not a person that is unafraid of the slightest bit of gravel) when a huge Dodge Ram sped around me, window rolled down, gave me the one finger salute and yelled “Get off the road, Bitch!!”

My eyes stung like I had been slapped. I have been scared of falling. I have read race reports where experienced cyclists get injured. I am always fearful of cars. Recovery after an accident with a car could take months. But it never dawned on me to be afraid of being yelled at by some asshole in a giant truck (and yes, I realize that name calling is juvenile and two wrongs don’t make a right but this guy was an asshole!!) I could see my house from where I was located.

But I kept riding. I rode right past my street with tears in my eyes and made one more single mile loop in the neighborhood next to mine. Because I won’t let you ruin my good time Mister Big Truck. I am only sorry that you momentarily knocked the wind out of me and I was unable to return your salute!

So. You haven’t convinced me to get off the road, Mr Big Truck. Nor have you really even made me think that I am a bitch. I assure you that I have done far more egregious things than ride my bike on the same stretch of road that you were enjoying. As I rode that last mile I started to wonder. Would you have yelled in my face if I stopped my cart in the middle of the aisle at Costco? Because I do that sometimes. What if I walked in front of you at a softball game to chase my four year old? I am so super sorry I was in your space for a second, man. I guess that never happens to you, huh?

I like to give each bike ride an anthem. Riding without tunes is so weird to me so I sing in my head. Today’s quick ten mile ride goes out to Matthew Wilder – Ain’t Nothing Gonna Break My Stride…

I will be back soon with a race recap for Belews Lake Olympic Triathlon that was a duathlon (click for last year’s race recap if you like!). Quick summary: I nearly froze to death. The runs were fast and awesome and the bike was cold and lonely. Belews Lake theme song was an obvious choice! Love me some Eric Carmen: All By Myseeeelf…….

6 Comments

Posted in Exercise

Tagged cycling, road racing, triathlon

Race Recap: Boys on the Left

Posted on August 21, 2014 | 5 comments

Another excellent sprint triathlon put on by FS Series this past weekend! My race preparation was not what I wanted it to be. The previous week included the consumption of a lot more pizza and beer than is ideal and the night before featured a long phone call with Poison Control (Thanks, Lucy!) but in spite of the lack of proper fueling and sleep I had a great time.

I am ready to take on the Olympic Distance triathlon next season. I have two more sprints this summer before I switch gears into half marathon mode for the fall and winter. So, now that I have more than a handful of sprints under my belt I feel like I can make an observation.

Answer me this, friends. Why don’t the men tell you before they pass you on the bike? Are they trying to kill me?

I am a novice cyclist. It is super obvious. If you don’t notice my white knuckled death grip on my handlebars than certainly you can see my somewhat swervy riding style, even from behind. And if all of that escapes you – I am on a 35 year old, $200 bike. That ought to tip you off.

I get passed on the bike. I have made peace with this fact. The bike is my weakest part of a triathlon. Of the dozen people who passed me – eight of them were men. Eight times I thought I was going to die as they zipped past me on my left. Four of the people that passed me were women. All four of them shouted “Left!” as they zipped past me. What gives?

Is it just some kind of competitive streak? Maybe. But I can’t say that the men aren’t supportive. As I was returning on this moderately hilly out and bike course every single man that I rode by while I was giving it all I had up a hill said something to the effect of “Yeah, get it, girl!”

It seems like the fellas like to see you work hard. I understand the idea of having a little skin in the game, but, guys, do you want to see my skin on the street? Because really I all but leap out of my bike seat when you whizz by.

Question for the cycylists – I get the etiquette for a group ride. Do the same rules not apply for racing? I can see why they wouldn’t but it seems odd that everyone has plenty of lung capacity to shout out words of encouragement but can’t seem to yell out “Left!” to keep me from possibly wrecking us both.

So, that’s what’s on my mind. Summer is wrapping up. School starts Monday. Backpack is full of supplies. Lots of debate about the first day of school ensemble is happening. Pictures are forthcoming.

What’s on your to-do list as the summer winds down? I still need to paint the kitchen in my ceiling before I can tell you about our summer kitchen reno. That’s I have got!

5 Comments

Posted in Parenting

Tagged cycling, etiquette, sports, sprint triathlon, triathlon

Want vs. Need: The Bucket List

Posted on April 24, 2013 | 13 comments

Is it a want or a need? I ask myself this question a hundred times a day. Sometimes it is a slippery slope and I can feel myself justifying before I even get to the answer. Somewhere in between the wants and the needs is a space for the things that we feel we “deserve.”

I want a new pair of jeans. I need to wear something. I deserve to wear a pair of jeans that fit and make me feel good. But none of that answers the question – Do I buy the jeans?

Nine times out of ten I come to the conclusion that I don’t really want or need to buy the object in question. I go around and around in my stay at home mom mind and I decide “Nope. Don’t buy it.” I am fortunate to have a partner that lets me budget our family’s expenses. It makes sense this way. I do the bulk of our spending. Food. Kid stuff. Clothes and whatnot. I have a good handle on what we have in the “Fun Money” pile and I think we do a pretty good job of spreading it around the family. Sometimes just feeling like I could buy the pair of jeans is all I need.

And then I got this fitness bug. I want a gym membership. I need the hour and a half to myself. I deserve this head space and so do my kids. It makes me a better parent. So. Gym membership is a green light. Whether it falls in the want or the need doesn’t matter. It works for us. Embarrassing truth: I spent more on Diet Coke and peanut M&Ms in a month than I spend on a gym membership for the entire family.

And then I picked up what might be the potentially priciest hobby one could choose in the realm of casual athletics. Don’t pick one sport, Kelly. Pick three. Well, all you need to run is shoes. And a better running bra. And the swimming, well, you only need a swim suit. And goggles. And a cap. And you can ride almost any bike if you’re looking to finish not compete. And I was lucky that my mom had a bike I can use. Oh. I need a helmet. I found a triathlon suit online for wicked cheap that is remarkably unflattering which means it must be a good one as they all seem to be more unflattering than the last. I just need sunglasses. And a water bottle. Oh, man, I get heinous chafing when I run in a wet sports bra so just one thing of Body Glide. And maybe a few energy drinks or something. And even if my tri-suit was inexpensive I don’t want to safety pin my number to it so I will need a racebelt. But they are only five bucks.

And that’s it. That is totally all I need. Right? The elastic shoelaces that make my running shoes turn in to slip-ons were a splurge. I admit it. Best six bucks I have spent in a long time. Still cheaper than a great glass of wine.

This sprint triathlon training has been riding the fence between want and need since the beginning. Even just signing up for one is spendy. But I feel so good. I am proud of myself. And it has nothing at all to do with my kids. That’s huge. It’s worth it. What’s that old saying – “Happy wife, happy life.” Hanging in our laundry room when I was a kid was a little plaque “If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” Mama is happy. This is good. It is like the trickle down economics of “Fun Money” spending.

I’ve blown about a hundred bucks in the last fifteen weeks. That is in addition to the hundred bucks my mom slid in to my back pocket the last time I was at home. I promised her I’d not spend it on groceries. Two running tops, a sports bra, six pairs of socks, a new cap, a water bottle, a headband and a pair of sunglasses later I took this picture for her. “Done. You spoil me,” I wrote in the text. I comparison shopped and considered different options for weeks before I almost let that hundred dollar bill burn a hole through my wallet.

It’s Thursday. Three more days and it is “Race Day.” I have worked hard. I am really excited. I have read a million blogs. I have looked at a million lists of Tips for Tri-Newbies. Tie a balloon to the bike rack so you can find your bike. Don’t think so much about what you look like. No one is watching you. Don’t get upset when the 80-year-old woman on the mountain bike passes you. Pass on the left. Don’t litter. Put your stuff in a bucket. Set up your transition area on a towel and use your bucket to sit on while you put your shoes on.

A bucket. You can get a 5 gallon bucket at Home Depot for three bucks. I could let Em decorate it with a Sharpie. “Go MOM! You can do it!” It made me smile to think about it. But I have a bucket in the shed. I don’t need a new bucket. I just don’t. Not when I have this one.

I’ll be the girl with the hot pink shoe laces and the paint covered Sherwin Williams bucket and the tears running down her face. Wish me luck.