The Crawford Century TMD Ride: 2022

"Action may not always bring

happiness, but there is no happiness

without action."

William James

 

I am looking forward to this century though wary of the heat.  It takes awhile for the body to adjust to  heat, but the only way I know to make that adjustment is to ride in it and be outside. At least I don't puke normally like some people.  As with most things in life, you have to pay your dues.  The cost for some appears to be higher than for others, but I suppose in the end it all equals out.  I am looking forward to seeing everyone.  I am looking forward to  a new century route.  And I am looking forward to riding my bicycle.  

 

  When asked, I tell Bob Grable that I will be riding more slowly than the last century, a century where I surprised myself with my speed.  No, not a blazing fast pace, but faster than I expected and faster than I should probably go today.  

 

 

It is a good group that shows.  All strong and seasoned riders as best I can ascertain though there are two or three I am unfamiliar with.  They look fit.  And I do start the century at a reasonable pace, only to find my speed increasing as I warm up.  I have found that it takes me longer for muscles to warm up than it used to....they need a bit of coaxing and convincing before they concede that they still can do what is being asked of them. And today is no different. 

 

Still, I feel stronger than expected today. Can a vitamin B12 shot be responsible for how I feel?  At a recent doctor visit, Sara took blood and told me my levels were low and advised that  I needed a shot after questioning if I had gone vegetarian.  (I have not though I have significantly lowered my meat consumption over the past few years, particularly red meat).  The day after I felt as if I were twelve years younger.  Such a relief as I believed my fatigue was age related.  

We ride on roads that I have not ridden for awhile, many from past brevet courses and occasionally memories of past rides tease me.  I push them away.  Today is not a day for dawdling and reminiscing. I think of Dave King and Steve Meredith, both doing the Kentucky 400 K today and I wish them strength and a successful finish.

 

 

 Everything is green and lush:  summer creeping in and taking over.  There are still a few spring flowers scattered here and there, but they are obviously on the decline.  Daisies are starting and the honeysuckle is in full bloom, perfuming the air whenever we pass. If I were by myself and/or going at a slower pace, I would notice more, instead I find myself pushing, monitoring my breathing, monitoring my legs, thinking how best to put 100 miles behind me without ending the ride wishing I had been left in a roadside ditch somewhere.  And I find myself singing.  I am happy here in the heat and sunshine rolling along on a bicycle with friends.

As usually happens with larger groups, and there are  probably 19 riding, not large by normal TMD standards but large for this calendar year, we split into groups.  Bob and I are together at the first store step.  Ned is close behind us, but for some reason does not stop at the store with us.  I worry a bit but assure myself that I am not responsible for him or any of the others.  Steve Rice and Mark Rougeux, another group, are already there.  They head out shortly before we do though both Bob and I gulp our drinks quickly and head out. 

 

The lunch stop offers two possibilities, a gas station and a restaurant.  The majority opt for the gas station.  I am surprised at the number of people eating inside, not merely due to COVID but because the temperature outside is pleasant and there is a covered area with picnic tables.  I take my chicken salad sandwich outside and eat giggling again at the thought of another year of the finest in curbside dining.  At least there are picnic tables here.  

 

After a quick lunch we take off.  No lingering after this meal.  And our average speed continues to climb until the third store stop.  But the pace is beginning to tell and Bob and I, still together, decide to slow it down a bit, particularly knowing there is a huge climb that lies between us and the finish.   And huge it is.  Halfway up a man working in his yard grins at us and says something about the climb.  I tell him we have this in the bag.  And we do.  We end together, pleasantly tired but not completely spent.  And I am happy.  Happy for the day, for the ride, for friends, and for bicycles.  James is right.  I find I am rarely happy without action of some type, mental or physical, and today I have had my fill.  The day is completed when some of the men in the front group comment on how strong I am this year.  Their words are music to my tired ears.  And for today I am sated.  And as always, I am thankful....thankful for bicycles, thankful health, thankful for friends, and yes, even thankful for hills that serve to humble and strengthen us. 

 

 

Charlestown to Scottsburg: A Spring Ride

“It was such a spring day as breathes into a man

 an ineffable yearning, a painful sweetness,

 a longing that makes him stand motionless, 

looking at the leaves or grass, 

and fling out his arms to embrace

 he knows not what.” 

John Galsworthy

 

It is always a delight to me to find that God has granted me another spring, and even better, another spring with the health to ride a bicycle.   I cannot remember  a spring since I was an adult where I did not have this thought. 

 

Spring is so lovely here, the tentative green of new leaves as they wonder if it is safe yet to emerge and court the sun and rain, the wildflowers tossing blobs of color everywhere, the daffodils sassing the cold mornings and frosts, the sound of peepers, birds beginning to defend their nesting territories and their families as the winter flock disbands.  All seasons are, indeed, lovely in their own way, but spring, following on the heels of winter, seems the loveliest of all. Perhaps it is because I tire of winter and her stark, coldness and pine for warm days made for riding in shorts and short sleeves.  Perhaps it is this that gives spring its sweetness.  So brief she always leaves me aching for more, for what was, for what wasn't, and what is to be.  Spring brings a feeling of hope, as if it reminds me that it is not too late.

I suppose that one of the things I love about spring is being able to ride again with friends who I have not ridden with since the fall.  Yes, I have ridden some through the winter, but not like I used to and many of the ones I miss do not ride in winter at all.  And I do miss them.  I miss the sounds of their voices, and particularly the sounds of their laughter.  I miss the joking and camaraderie.  And I miss the shared love of cycling, for we all DO love cycling despite the cursing on climbs, the complaints about weather conditions.  And as we age, of course, I always appreciate that they are back because so many of my friends in the past have quit cycling either due to lack of interest or health issues, and despite our fondness for each other those friendships lapse without the shared miles.  

Highway construction has taken four of my ride starts....indeed, all of my ride starts for the moment, so I have designed a course from Charlestown to Scottsburg.  Originally I was going to put on a different route that I put together that goes to Lexington, but the wild flowers on Hebron Church Road and the red bud trees along Hebron Church and Werewolf Lane have changed my mind.  I didn't have time to ride the entire ride prior to posting it, but I put it on the schedule anyway with the admonition that those who decide to ride realize there could be issues.  Most people seem okay with this.  It is only the occasional person who grouses if a road is closed for construction and they have to cross a creek, bicycle carried high on their shoulder. 

As it turns out, there are not other than Steve Rice not being able to load the route on his GPS for some reason.  It is a small group that shows but I am grateful to each of them for coming to share this sunny, spring day with me.  Phlox and Virginia Bluebells line Hebron Road near the creek as they seem to do most years.  I never seem to become immune to their beauty.  Red buds are at their peak, teasing the Dogwood who have yet to begin blooming in earnest.  

There is talking and laughter and catching up.  There is the sound of bicycle wheels turning.  And there seems to be a smile on everyone's face, at least those in the back group or the group that finishes the ride together.  Again and again Mike tells me he likes the course, and while I believe he does, I think that what he really likes is for a group to be together again on a sunny spring day where the wind, while there, is not torturous, and on bicycles.  But regardless, it makes me smile and gives me a warm feeling inside.  

The miles pass quickly, but I can't say that I am/was sated.  I crave more.  More of their companionship, more of the aching of spring tender legs on tough climbs, more of their laughter, more of the road stretching out, and more of the sunshine which seems to brighten my soul even as it reddens my skin a bit despite the sunscreen.  Spring.....comes and goes so quickly, as if she were a dream.  And I am not sated.