Job Satisfaction

A year ago today I started what I believed to be the best job in the world for me.

Happy to report this is more true today than the day I started. It's been a short year - one that seems to have happened in much less time than a year. A lot has happened, much has yet to happen. For the first year in my life, I am not spending my free time trying to figure out what I'm going to do for the rest of my life.

I've finally figured out how to focus my enjoyment of too many things to accomplish one much bigger thing instead of spreading myself too thin and not making significant forward progress. Everything I did in the past was important when I did it then, and now it's all finally able to add up.

I'm so excited for the coming year: for the challenges that will come, for the cool events that will happen, for the growth to come in the business, for the changes that will take place, for the people who will discover the RSC and those who will make new connections and accomplish their goals through them. For the opportunities I will have to impact each of these and the satisfaction that will result.

Race Report

As always, when I race, I must report on that race. Racing has to be one of the most fun things to report about and, based on responses by others, also one of the most interesting things to read. I always enjoy reading the stories from my Ride Studio Cafe teammates even though I am left imagining where they're racing as I'm not familiar with the New England races.

Photo courtesy of Jay Robbins. Photo missing teammates Joy & Mo, we had a great showing at the race.

Last Wednesday, two days after becoming my race age of 35, I raced in the Witches Cup in Salem, the Massachusetts State crit champ race. Almost every year there's a race on or around my birthday. The last race that I did when I was really serious about training and bike racing was the day before I turned 30--downtown Denver at one of my favorites, Bannock. Eeek, time has flown much too quickly.

Salem is a town I have grown to like through a few bike rides that have brought me there and I did this same race last year. Thinking back, I like almost every small town where I've raced. Maybe it's the adrenaline and happy feelings that come along with the endorphins that endear me to a place after being there to race. This, in conjunction with getting to know people and the place shows its personality and warmth as so many small towns do.

Time before the race with Erin & Cindy.

One more reason to race: get to know small towns and places that wouldn't be seen otherwise. Silver City and Salida are both places near and dear only because of races. St Paul is a town I like otherwise, but thinking back to the race of attrition that happened as Stage 1 of Nature Valley Grand Prix the year I was there and how devastated I was in that race, it almost soured me to the place.

Back to the Witches Cup: it's a very fine course that involves only right-hand turns around a large park so it is the perfect venue for racers and spectators, alike. Being a Wednesday night, it doesn't mess up a weekend day and everyone goes out together after the race to have dinner since no one has made plans, which is a typical problem on weekends. The best part of racing is the time after the race, hanging out and enjoying the company of teammates and friends. Racing is super fun, of course, it's just usually a let-down to finish and immediately go home alone. Traveling races are good - so are hours afterward to talk with teammates about strategy, what happened, who did what, etc. Yes, the conversation is hours in duration to be complete and fully satisfying.

Photo courtesy Russ Campbell

My goal for the Witches Cup race was to finish with the pack and be safe. I haven't trained for a crit, haven't done any intervals (though I've gotten in a few hard rides in the past few weeks) nor did I go in remotely well-rested. The pace was reasonably high, though no one tried to make an attack stick. Had they done that, it would have helped raise the pace to something a bit more uncomfortable. The first part of the race was good, though I was pretty concerned about the racers who didn't appear to have good cornering skills. Everyone, at first, was worrying me as I didn't know who to trust. My racing once-upon-a-time found me blog-stalking my competitors. I knew what my rivals had eaten for breakfast. I knew which wheels to ride on and who I needed to worry about at the line. The research was useful. Racing week after week with the same set of people helped, too.

I realized how few people I knew at the race and it feels weird to be so unknown in a situation so familiar. Having good teammates out there was awesome. The warm-up with the RSC girls was really cool. I don't like warming up alone because I often find that I think about the race so much that I get lost and almost don't make it to the start on time. It's also nice to have company for the pre-race leg-openers. Worrying about others' races helps me not think about mine. I offered more advice to my teammates than they probably cared to hear. I like to give good advice and promptly discard it where it comes to my racing. I care that my friends have a fun race, make it to the finish line & feel good about the experience. For me, I feel that if I die out there by working hard, then I've had a good race and I know I will feel good about it. If I play it safe and not everything goes perfectly in the final lap, I didn't get my money's worth. Actually, if I play it safe and do well, I'm still not totally satisfied. Whether I race or not, I love racing and am hooked on it. I know I never have to worry about disliking riding or the sport. I used to guard against that, especially as a cat 3, when so many women decide that racing really isn't for them.

Photo courtesy Russ Campbell

Around and around we went. It's a bit of a blur - though only a 35-minute blur. About 15 minutes in, I was pretty sure I was going to get sick. I'd eaten a bit too much earlier in the day because of pre-race nervousness, but the feeling of sickness was probably due to my heart beating faster for longer duration than it had done since last year at this same race. Fine with me, I didn't have to do a single interval session, my least favorite part of training or racing. February intervals. I used to hate those with a passion and they hurt so badly, it's hard to explain, especially because in February I used to be super fit from a winter of long endurance rides, long trainer rides and lifting in the gym. Still, those intervals....sends shivers for me to think back about doing those out on a lonely, flat, boring bike path to nowhere at dusk feeling like the least fit person in the world as I had to fight to get my heart rate to rise high enough.

I didn't compete for a single prime during the race. That was hard for me to bear. I always, always like to sprint for primes and at the very least give the others a run for their money. For starters, they're a great way to warm up the legs in the race and it's also very educational: how is everyone else sprinting? What's most effective? Who's riding well? And, of course, it is always the time to attempt a breakaway.

But in this race, I was a bit concerned that I'd blow up going for a prime and not be able to recover to continue to race with the pack. So I rode hard, tried to keep good position up front and reminded myself to not do anything too ultra-stupid. With only a few laps to go, I lost position some and I don't exactly know what happened and why. With two short laps to go, I moved up a lot, pretty close to the front. The pace was fiery as people positioned. On the last lap, a crash happened to my left and it spread across the street. I had to ride around it to avoid it so that messed up the finish a bit. When that crash happened, all I could think about was how silly it would be to be broken because of a crash and not be able to be fully functional at work. I used to type for a living, now I need to be able to stand on my feet for 12+ hours some days. When I get (hopefully much) older and naturally less mobile, I look forward to going back to being a computer geek, but now I'm eating up the chance to be active during the day at work.

The final result? 15/44 and it felt great once it was over. Reminded me what it is to race, how fun it is and how possible it is to return to the sport (so unlike tennis or soccer, two sports I used to adore but can't participate in any longer, don't get me on a rant about that). Doing it as part of the Ride Studio Cafe team really added to the experience. Having guys out there represented in the other races was great and sharing in the experience with everyone at the Sul Posto really enhanced the time spent out there during the evening.

Well, I raced. Once ought to do it this year. As fun as it was, I'm really very happy to continue to spend weekends doing the job I adore and living vicariously from the race reports and stories of others. I've discovered so many kinds of riding (off-road dirt for the cx bike and going out at night) that I enjoy so much that spending this time doesn't leave me wishing I were racing. Even if time permitted, I'm not sure I would race more. Okay, I probably would, but that's because it's the thoughtless solution to what, for me, would possibly be an otherwise dull weekend.

There it is, one race, one race report sized for a full season of racing. So, Witches Cup next year? Maybe it's time to start racing masters. Or, maybe it's time for track so I can get my sprint back. Then again, racing is a distraction from much bigger goals I have for my life that I won't achieve if I'm distracted. When will there ever be enough time for both?

Inspire me Rock

Did you have a Pet Rock? I'm trying to remember why I did have one as a kid & I think a lot of kids had one. Mine had a face on it and I know I still have it somewhere safe.

The other day I was on a birthday bike ride on the North Shore (primarily in Gloucester), a place that is remarkable to me and I'd only driven through once before. The ride was full of discovering delightful places sitting on water, the roads wound in and out allowing for nice views and then swept through quiet forests that I wouldn't expect to see so close to ocean water. It was vacation.

One of the woods was full of large boulders inscribed with words of inspiration, paid for by Roger Babson in 1930.

It was a large investment for this man to chisel inspiration in these rocks in the Dogtown woods. He had 24 mottos inscribed in these rocks in 1930, it sounds like it was a job creation program for people who needed the work and it gave him satisfaction.

There are words that are motivational and, silly as it may sound, when I hear them, inspire me and  make me think about where I am, where I'm going and why I do what I do. It must exist for everyone to some degree. Maybe not words but smells, sounds, feelings, something that makes the heart pound faster and internally incite some small fire of internal motivation without there being anything in reality to be motivated about.

Since it was my birthday and on my birthday, I go in search of something to inspire that year of my life, these rocks were well-placed. There were things written all over that afternoon and evening to make me think so picking one that is most appropriate for my 35th year was not as obvious as it has been for many other years. Interesting, I think I see where this is going.

Choose. Picking and choosing what to do, what's important and what's not is one of the most vital pieces to success this year. It always is, but I believe that it will play a large role in the coming year's progress. That'll be one inscription for my boulder.

Other words that make my heart beat faster that I'd inscribe in a large, immovable object for the ages:

Creativity.
Passion.
Like Babson, I have to copy his "Ideas."
Innovation.
Entrepreneurship.
Build.
Create.
Dream.
Smile.
Imagine.
Love.

Together, these are what my life is all about and keep me going. I will be trying harder this year than ever to follow the path that winds me around these boulders. With any luck, I will end up in a place no different than where the ride Monday night ended up: in a peaceful place watching the world's most beautiful sunset accompanied by someone special. In the interim, before the sunset, there's nothing I want more than to have created something that I'm passionate about in a creative, innovative way. Smiling through the difficulties to achieve a dream, making the impossible a reality and sharing in the joys and challenges of the journey with someone.

Full speed ahead.

Moving Day

Tomorrow is moving day and I don't know where to begin. I hardly have anything as most of what I own was able to fit inside a regular car when I moved out here. There was a nice little IKEA splurge once I got to town, but other than that, I haven't added much. Somehow, though, the job is daunting.

Part of moving is simply the hauling of stuff down and up stairs many, many times. This part is enjoyable when I'm moving other people's stuff. For my own, it's more tiring as stuff -material items- is tiring and I have to worry about each thing being put in the proper place. It is a good workout and that will be welcome. Stuff weighs a person down in so many ways. My stuff is certainly no exception albeit fairly well chiseled down to the essentials considering how many times I've had to move it. Each time I've gotten a bit more particular about what's important and what can stay back.

The other part of moving is the emotional side. As much as I don't like the old carpet in my current room, it is the space I've started to associate with being my space. I really believe that every human being needs some space, no matter how small, of their very own. This room has, gradually, become my space and now I'm preparing to say goodbye to it. Earlier this year, when I moved to MA, I was trying to nest, it was something I needed. Now, not so much though I'm not sure why.

I remember writing back when I was living in Italy that I enjoyed having roommates and that I never wanted to live alone again. Having roommates here has been a highlight of my current living situation. After a long day, I always can sit down, eat dinner and have a simple exchange about the day or something random. It's a pseudo family. I'm moving to another shared housing situation but I have more private space. I may like living with others but I always think back to when I lived alone, I miss that space and time so much.

Then again, I'm the sort of person who likes to change things up regularly. I don't like changing up people but I do situations.

Time to make a change yet again. Where's my nest and how can I get there?

Life on New Skinny Tires

Life just got a whole lot more interesting, at least where it comes to my bike riding life. I'd blogged months ago about my future new road bike. That bike just came to life.

In the words of someone else, it's "so awesome it's ridiculous." I totally agree.

Now I've ridden it for 130 miles and have loved every moment of it. Monday's ride to Beverly was some good quality time to be alone with it. Listen to how it quietly rolls along, even when it's hitting potholes. It is the ultimate bike. How can it get any better than this? It was built from the best material ever, created in the next town over by people who are true craftspeople, artists, creators. It was designed by the best. It's Ride Studio Cafe branded. RSC is a place that has been near and dear to me from the moment I stepped in the door last February, a time that feels like years ago in my familiarity of it yet like yesterday in my avidity for it.

The particulars of the bike have been detailed elsewhere, but for now, I wanted to capture this moment for the archives. This, the magical moment in time when the paint is perfect, the bike rides perfectly and all I want to do is be on it riding.

Take a look of all of its photos, too!

Goal Oriented

Yesterday's goal: QOM on Strawberry Hill. Ooooh, the pang of could-have-would-have-if-only at 1 second off from the QOM:



I think I get why I like to race - it's so much easier to set a goal and reach it than any of the others I set in life and work. Really, going hard and hurting on a hill is easier than many other things. So now to translate that kind of competitive spirit to the rest of my life... Time at this point is a major limiter and it's very frustrating to not be able to do what I need to because I can't get enough uninterrupted time to accomplish anything.

What's Your Time Worth?

Last week I was confronted with a question: how much is my time worth? The way in which the question was presented hit me between the eyes and it was relevant to the discussion. This discussion had to do with how much would it be worth to me (paid in $ off of rent) to drive an elderly man to the grocery store, to doctor appointments, etc. The concept is a good one, having the conversation was not ridiculous. However, when put to me as how much it be worth to me to make a trip, say, to the grocery store to take someone shopping, I had to close my eyes, and respectfully ask that the conversation end.

Writing this small entry has some value in that putting things on "paper" helps me form thoughts and sort through issues. However, I should be hypercritical of the time this is taking at this moment and spend my time elsewhere. 10 minutes longer, then on to the next thing.

The answer to the question: my free time, the time I don't have planned, scheduled or otherwise committed is so small it's worth a premium that isn't payable monetarily.

The answer for anyone else: It doesn't matter what a person's salary is, though a contract employee might be able to point to an hour and say it costs $100 billable to a client. Still, would it be worth $100 or even $500 to lose the last moments of relaxation in a week? It comes down to quantity of free time and how much of it there is. Free time = rejuvenation time. It's the time that allows one to do well in the rest of life. Recharging and resting is as important as pushing forward on whatever it is that one does. It's just like racing. One gets stronger during rest and recovery times, but it's the training that lets the rest feel really good (and make one stronger). No champion has ever been made out of someone who trains continuously and never takes a break. 


In the real world, I'd translate this to working very, very hard and then sleeping a reasonable amount, having some non-pressured waking moments and then working very hard again. This is my ideal that I'm striving for. 

Still looking to find the balance, exactly, but feeling it's a bit better now than a few weeks ago... to be continued, 10 minutes is up and it's time to read something useful.

What's your time worth? Can you put a price on it?

Independence

Yesterday was the 4th of July. For some reason, the 4th has always somehow stood out to me - what I was doing on that day. I remember so vividly the year when, before the fireworks were going to go off, that my mom was reading an electronics book to my brother and me. My thoughts at the time had to do with how much I despised that book. Now I wish I had listened and not wasted energy on not listening.  Almost every year, I remember the evening as a warm one, one that doesn't ever seem to end and smells of BBQ. Yesterday was all of those wonderful things minus the good-smelling smoking grill. Yesterday will stand out to me for years to come. I was stoked to be out pedaling dirt trails not far from here, feeling free, happy and absolutely content with life. I need nothing more than that. 

In more recent years, the "independence" part of the day has been something that means more. We're independent as people, free in most things. I frequently think about the freedoms in this life and appreciate them. I have exercised my independence a bit more than most since I graduated from college, though within responsible limits. Independence day is one more day when I really like to think about being independent. What do I do and why? There is a solidly good reason behind everything I do, as non-apparent as it may seem to others taking a look in from a distance. Purely from decisions I have made do I live. I am completely independent though it may appear very differently. 

After just saying I need nothing more, I have decided to move. Would I move if I were perfectly content? What is the definition of having more? I can be content, but I can choose not to be, as well. I haven't been completely comfortable where I've lived since I moved in. Trying to pinpoint what, exactly, it is that has kept me feeling unsettled here is impossible. I wish I could explain it to my housemates. There's a good chance it's that I'm living in the suburbs, off the beaten path. I like being where people are. Truth be told, I get energy being around people but more so when I'm not part of the conversation. I like to listen as an an observer, not necessarily a contributor influencing the direction of the discussion. One the coolest things about the new place is its proximity to public transportation and a big road. It's access to Boston that I don't have now. Independence from my car is one the things I value most, though I don't actively try to rid myself of it. I just want to know I'd survive if it decided not to start one morning. Being free of stress in my personal life is pretty much the most important thing to me. I thrive on a bit of stress and adrenaline at all other times of the day. There is a place where I need to be free of that.

Back to people and the behaviors of people. I've never known so many people in my life considering computer work typically involved the same 5-10 people on any given day. Being around this many people on a daily basis is very new to me, still. It's a game to me to try to figure out when it's going to be busy at work. When will it be quiet and how do the weather patterns affect people's coffee-drinking and bike-buying interest? On the 4th of July, it was a rainy morning and usually rainy mornings mean people drink more milk-heavy drinks. But on the 4th, they were drinking more cold brew coffee than ever. Was it merely psychological, the idea that it's the 4th and therefore hot no matter the temperature outside? I'd like to know what was going on at local ice cream establishments. I know I wanted ice cream yesterday. I'm programmed. 

Tomorrow morning is coming fast. I'd hoped to start the day at sunrise as most days that start at that hour (4-4:15) are my best. What's coming tomorrow? Friday and the "start" to my work week as my Fridays often feel to me the way Mondays used to. This moment in time captured, finally, time to get going on to the next thing to move forward.

Time to mow

Being that it's important to blog, albeit much more important to sleep, every time I sit down and put something on the blog, I tell myself I'll keep doing it as it's interesting to capture the moments and the thoughts of each moment. I've got to commit to writing more frequently but less. That is the challenge.

After a weekend like this one, it's hard to wind down. Saturday evening was a successful art opening at the Ride Studio Cafe with photography by Susan Margot Ecker and today was the biggest group ride/special ride at the RSC that I've seen there. It was named the Crazy 88 and people will be talking about it for a long time. Today was hot, a bit on the sweltering side. The Sul Posto served gelato at the 1/2 way point on the ride. What could possibly be better on a hot day?

Yesterday I had a flashback - to how I felt when I used to race. I remember thinking that I didn't remember what it was like to be a regular person, to have time after work to enjoy leisurely activities, to have a Saturday or Sunday to do something recreational in street clothes before 3pm. I remember how much I liked living that sort of go-go-go life and thinking how I hoped I'd never revert back to a standard, normal life.

After slowing down on racing significantly, I dove into projects, the first being my kitchen island welding project. Then came consulting night and weekend work until I started to work too much during the day and filling spare time with committee meetings, small political battles interesting to fight as a homeowner, that sort of thing. I filled every moment with work and many extracurricular activities. I squeezed some time in there for family & friends, but not a lot. All of these things consumed me, but they all went in opposite directions.

It occurred to me that the reason I'm enjoying my life here so much is that it parallels the lifestyle that I used to have for a few years when I was the happiest. It was easy to blame the happiness on all of the endorphins from working out, training, and close friends who had the same lifestyle. It's starting to be obvious that it wasn't just that. Time outside on the bike is and always will be a great source of pleasure, but there's an umbrella category under which it lies.

Now I don't have idle time ever. Every moment is packed with something and there are interesting projects around every corner. I have a hard time pulling myself away. When I do, I feel a tinge of regret at the lost time.

There are some new projects that I'm dying to work on. Right now, there's a growing list of them. Redesigning this blog and my website are on the list.

As I was thinking about this stuff, I was mowing the lawn, very standard/normal, odd. There is more mowing to be done and I need to vacuum. I'm dying to go on another long ride. Trying to remember that it wasn't that long ago that I got to do a long ride and I've ridden a few shorter rides since then. No accomplishment happens when I'm riding except that I feel great afterward. It buys me more energy to get things done. Maybe that's accomplishment alone. As I feel time flying past and I'm getting older, I feel more pressure to do some great things now as I had originally intended to do 10 years ago.

As for today, it's a matter of doing one thing at a time and trying not to feel completely overwhelmed at what has to happen be between now and tonight, coming much too soon.

Just Keep Pedaling

It wasn't that long ago that I was freaked out by riding on dirt. Saturday, I was bombing down dirt roads at 45+ mph with my eyes closed.

What happened to the good ol' days of riding for hours upon hours on smooth pavement? It's been months in the making, as I've been very fortunate to have been introduced to great off-road trails not far from home and not too technical in nature. Being in the woods, lit by a headlight and surrounded by plants, trees and grasses growing over the trail wildly, is indescribably cool. Saving it for a blog another day.

The Rapha Gentlemen's Race this year was Epic with a capital E. It was all things packed into one innocent-enough looking day. I know Pamela will be blogging the full story and she'll do the story justice. I want to see what she had to say as the race was different for everyone out there.

I got invited on a tandem team, the Epic Avengers: this is a team of 6 people, with three tandems among us. I had a total of one day of prep time and considering my work schedule, that meant I didn't even have time to get to the grocery store to buy food for the race. Somehow a single load of laundry got done, but that was it.

For the first time in years, I wished I'd been training all winter & felt a bit of regret at that. I don't love being this out of shape and away from the race scene (it's by choice), but when I got an email telling me I could do this race, I almost leaped out of my bike shoes (I was on a casual bike ride at the time). 

The course was 60% dirt roads for 120 miles (for those who finished). I hadn't met the pilot or tandem I'd be riding with until the night before the race. Piloting a tandem is no small job and for a course like this, experience is key.

Trust is as well. Trusting the guy who's picking the line and handling the brakes is just about the most important thing. Second most: pedal. The stoker has to help the bike go and let the pilot do his job. I promised the pilot, Todd, that I would do just that. I was told that Todd was an experienced pilot, he came with an impressive resume, but is nicknamed The Jokester. So at what point does he take things seriously? I'd have to find out.

Pamela & John, tandem partners in life (though they rode different tandems for the sake of the team this weekend) are rider extraordinaires in countless ways. I know them pretty well as we've spent hours chatting at the Ride Studio Cafe, first having met at Mt. Washington for the hillclimb last August (I was there to man the Ciclismo Classico tent but definitely not to race.) We've been able to ride some together, but nothing like what we did Saturday. Pamela has logged 9,000 miles for the year so far and takes 2 days off the bike each month or something like that. John rides like he was born on a bike. He was part of the men's winning Green Mountain Double Century team last weekend.

Dena, a friend of Pamela's and co-winner w/Pamela of the Green Mountain double century last weekend (yes, just last weekend), knows no distance barriers. She's an engine, a terrific pilot and fun to suffer with...actually, she doesn't suffer while the rest of us do. Superhuman.

Then there's Rebecca who is a relatively new cyclist compared with everyone else and was so eager to be there. I was wondering if she could comprehend the distance or dirt as I didn't know what her background were with either. She hadn't ridden a tandem until the afternoon before this race. It was impressive watching her on the back of the tandem as she and John flew down hills during the day. On command, she stood smoothly, as if she'd been a stoker her whole life. She looked fresh and happy all day long. What's even more shocking is that she was both of those things right through to the finish.

Not knowing all that much about this race as I'm new to the area and to the world of long-distance racing & this particular race, I had to get schooled on it quickly. According to Rapha: 

The point of Rapha’s Gentlemen's Races is to inspire a different type of racing. Being unmarshalled, unsupported and unsanctioned, there's no better way to find out if you're a true team, pulling together through the difficulties and attrition to get each other to the finish, or just six individuals racing the clock.

The day started off cool, an absolutely perfect temperature with clear skies in a gorgeous part of the country (2 hrs by car north of here on the NH/VT border). We were thrilled that it didn't look like overheating would be an issue. Nor would rain. Hahahahahaha. We stayed hydrated and none of us got too hot, except for Dena who was happy when the temps dropped much lower later in the day at which time she was smiling and told us of her overheating earlier. We were shaking from the cold. I'm jumping ahead.

We started on smooth pavement at 8:09am. Breakfast was at 5:30 and I'm happy to report I was wide awake and ready to go early. Adrenaline is powerful, though I felt most of my pre-race jitters the day before. No coffee for me until a minute before the start when the Rapha espresso machine was serving up very tasty shots. 

The whole ride up until mile 60 or so was fun, beautiful, the dirt sections were great and time flew by with the miles. Todd and I had a couple of early mechanical problems with the chain jumping into the spokes. We got that fixed on a nice uphill section. An extra section we threw in as we'd gone off course, taking us down a screaming descent just to learn that we had to return up that hill. Teammates Dena and Pamela had some mechanicals on their bike, at a point where we were all at separate parts of the road. Fortunately, the ladies are quite the mechanics and were able to get going again to roll into the "lunch" stop. Other than that, we didn't have a flat all day. The new Seven titanium tandem steed that John & Pamela just bought for their anniversary worked flawlessly all day long.

Climbing was fun on the tandem. Much more so than when I'm climbing alone. I think much of that had to do with my knowing that I'd get up the hill because if I couldn't do it, someone else would be able to provide the power. The riding itself never made me nervous since I knew I had someone to work with. I don't like being in on scary rides by myself. Anytime I've ever shared a stupid riding experience with someone, I feel much more at ease & fortunately, that doesn't happen often. (Sentence inserted for benefit of family members.)

Around mile 65, the weather changed. Dark clouds hovered overhead and we were climbing. It started raining. Rain isn't a big deal, though I was wondering if it'd cause mud and what that would do to the slipperiness of the roads. I'd love to say I can remember every mile of the whole ride, but I don't. Thunder and lightning freak me out like nothing else. I descended like a mad woman down Mt Evans after seeing a single bolt of lightning setting a personal best descending time...aborting the whole ride w/o a second thought. So I am not afraid to bail when safety is at stake.

To shorten the story, we were poured on and pictures weren't possible. We crested the hill as the storm reached us at the same time. The descent was very fast, wet roads didn't seem to slow us down. Later I found out how much breaking hurt Todd's hands and how miserable he was up front (not that he said it in those words as he was still in what appeared to be a good mood. I got quiet, Todd wasn't freaked out like I was as we were under trees. He said that as long as we weren't in a clearing, he wouldn't be worried. Moments later we arrived in a tree-less part of the road. Didn't take much to pedal faster than we had all day long at that point. Luckily, it didn't last long, but the rain did. Temps dropped and he was shaking badly. The stoker is protected from the elements so much more than the pilot. Finally, we arrived at a general store where they served hot chocolate. Dena treated all of us. She was the only one who really didn't need the hot chocolate as she was smiling and happy at the coolness that the rest of us would classify as cold.

Plastic garbage bags were supplied by Pamela, she made each of us a jacket. Warm, comfy, happier. At one point, John started laughing and couldn't stop, the rest of us followed suit. It was funny, but who knew why. Maybe because we looked funny! The normal people in street clothes at the store were great. I'd love to know what they thought about the freezing, wet, silly cyclists.

The rain subsided and stopped, it looked like we'd gotten out of the storm. Still milling about at the store and recuperating, we didn't treat any of the last rest stops like race ones. The first ones we'd tried to make good time in getting in & getting out. Being fast was futile toward the end. Then the thunder started up again, my heart sank when I heard it roll up. It had caught us. We got going and the rain came down again, it was significantly harder for me to keep going at that point. Again, rain isn't a problem, it's the lightning that I don't like.

Mile 85 was soon after the hot chocolate stop. Muddy, rocky, rooty, the most technically challenging off-road portion of the course was here & we'd awaited this point all day. Thanks to the garbage bag on Todd, I couldn't see anything. I just kept pedaling on cue and he got us through. There were a couple of spots where the tandem was stopped by the mud or other obstructions. I put a foot down and sank into the mud. I hadn't realized before that that we were even riding in mud. Keeping the stoker clueless is a key to success.

On we rode until the course took a turn into the heart of the storm. At that point, we stopped and took shelter under someone's garage & waited for our teammates to show up. The race director gave us an alternate route so we could avoid the storm and ride to the finish cutting some miles out. Finally, we were all back together again and we rolled to the finish easily. The sky cleared as if nothing had ever transpired in those wild, remote hills of Vermont. Upon crossing the border back into NH, Todd let Vermont know what he thought about it. We all needed him to say the things he did to shake off what we'd just been through. We were bold enough to take off the bags and relax. Pedaling on... suddenly we had 1 mile left to go (I thought we still had 10+ remaining). What a pleasant surprise!

We pulled into the parking lot 10 hours after we'd started the Epic Avenging and we were smiling almost as much as we had at the beginning of the day. It was fun. I would do it again. I hope to do it again.

According to Todd, I was "well behaved." But he assured me that since I had taken on that course and the challenge, that I wasn't one of the well-behaved women who doesn't make history.

And what did I learn about Todd? That he doesn't take anything where it comes to riding seriously except an open field with lightning overhead and the sharp turns at the bottom of steep descents. Oh, and pre-race nutrition. He was quite concerning about eating popcorn and drinking beer the night before the race. Maybe he knows something the rest of us (me) don't. He knows how to handle a bike (with my weight on it), pedal (again, with my weight on it) and keep a good disposition even when he's shivering enough and has cold enough hands that most people wouldn't be able to keep a bike going straight and fast.

There's one for history: the Rapha Gentlemen's Race 2012 is in the books. The Epic Avengers didn't officially finish, but we officially lived and had a great time on the road together. I got back in the saddle to do the hardest ride of my life after not much riding at all for the past year.

Huge thanks to all of my teammates who worked so hard for each other throughout the long day. Thank you to everyone who brought bikes & equipment (which will never be the same again after all of that mud & grit), those (Pamela!) who organized us all at the very last minute and who had faith that we could accomplish this race together though odds said there was no way we could pull it off at the last minute.

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