Spin Cycle

I have a big day on Saturday all planned out.  I'm riding with some friends in this year's Cycle For Survival.  This years' event will take place over 5 days, in 10 cities, with 27 rides, 2,750 bikes, and will include 13,000 participants.

The event is a fundraiser for rare types of cancer.  In 2012, they raised $8.3 million.  This year, they have raised over $12 million!  It's awesome to be able to participate in a fun event for a great cause.  I want to thank both of my generous sponsors for helping to contribute to this record-breaking fundraiser!

The only bummer to my participation is that my drive up to Westwood will take probably three times as long as my stint on the bike.  :-/  I may have to find another workout later in the day to make sure I stay on pace for Ironman California.

Last year's event

I really am not sure what to expect at the event.  When I was first asked to participate, I envisioned some sort of contest where people pedaled away in a quest to log the most miles or some other such team goal.  Turns out I was way off base.

Each team has a four hour block in which the riding shifts are broken up into half hour segments.  The whole thing is like a giant spin class/party--it really doesn't matter how far or how fast you go.  There is food, entertainment (for those not riding), and other festivities (yoga anyone?).

Captain Spandex

So I've never actually done a spin class before and I'm a little nervous.  What is the proper etiquette in a spin class?  I've only ever ridden on the trainer in my garage and the open roads (helmets required).  I really need to figure out what to wear.  I don't want to show up and be "That Guy".  (at right...)

You know, the guy who shows up with way too much attitude, way too much spandex, and takes himself way too seriously.  

I'm much more interested in being a good teammate, cheering on my teammates, getting a good workout, and having fun.  If I get a chance to do a cool class as well, I'm not going to complain.

I promise that I do some research to make sure that I'm appropriately attired for the fun and festivities.

I love this picture of Aunt Susan

One of the cool things about the event is that they encourage you to bring a photo and written tribute to a cancer survivor.  I am going to accept that challenge and will be bringing a picture of my Aunt Susan.  She survived breast cancer and a brain tumor before she finally succumbed at much too young of an age--leaving behind her husband and 7 young kids.

Susan took me in for four straight summers in law school and treated me like one of her own kids.  I still feel like her kids are more like brothers and sisters to me than cousins.  I still miss her and love her. 

Aunt Susan, I will think about you as I ride on Saturday!  :-)

I Can't Ride 55

Miracles never cease.  Some friends of mine convinced me to go on a bike ride this morning.  The ride was set to leave at 6:30 a.m., which meant that I had to get up at 5:45 a.m.  I'm still not sure how I did it.  My riding buddies were doing a 90 mile ride.  I couldn't go that far because I had volleyball practice--so I had to settle for 55 miles.

Here is my ride by the numbers:

• 197 - # of minutes of total riding time
• 55 - # of miles ridden
• 38 - Maximum mph achieved during the ride
• 17 - Average mph for the ride (including the monster hills the last 3 miles!)
• 10 - # of riders in our group
• 2 - # of times my water bottles fell off the bike (luckily I retrieved them both)
• 2 - # of close calls with vehicles that almost hit me
• 1 - # of drivers that honked to let me know that they were really, really close to hitting me
• 1 - # of times I almost dropped, then caught, my iPhone while taking pictures at 20 mph!
• 0 - # of more miles I felt like I could have ridden by the time I was done!

For the most part, I rode solo--due to a series of unfortunate events.  Riding by yourself is an interesting experience.  It gives you plenty of time to think.  Even though it was dark outside when I started--and cold--I felt like I enjoyed the time to myself.

The Peloton

When I entered Camp Pendleton, I went to ask the sentry if he had seen a large group of riders wearing the same riding kit that I was wearing.  Just then, I looked back to see a gaggle of riders heading up the hill to the sentry check point.  It was my friends!

There were 10 of us at that point and I only knew about 4 of the guys fairly well.  I was struck by how friendly several of the riders that I had never met before were.  They came up and introduced themselves and were very nice.  They had never met me and they only knew that I was part of the "team" because I was wearing the same jersey that they were.  

Riding with the "peloton" was really fun.  It was the first time that I had every really ridden with a group of such a sizable number.  I felt an instant sense of comaraderie with my fellow riders.  I noticed something else as well about riding in a pack. I spent less energy cycling and went faster.  I think that there may be some sort of life lesson in that somewhere.

At one point, one of my water bottles popped out of its cage.  I didn't know it, but one of my fellow riders told me so that I could go get it.  At another point, there was a road sign in the middle of the bicycle lane.  I saw one of the experienced riders make some hand signs to those of us that were behind him, motioning us to be cautious so that we could avoid the (unseen) road hazard.  I thought that that was an amazing display of courtesy, teamwork, and sportsmanship.

My only regret was that I couldn't finish the ride with them.  Oh well, I'm sure that there will be other rides in my future.

I managed to get a few good pics during the ride.  At one point, while riding, my iPhone slipped from my grasp.  I was doing about 20 mph at the time...but somehow I managed to snag it out of thin air before it crashed to the road beneath me.  Thank goodness for another small miracle.  I took a self-portrait as well, but realized I couldn't possibly post it after I saw it and realized how haggard and tired I looked during the ride!  Yikes!

Team Eco Pro

Coming home, I found myself riding alone again.  Thank goodness for my iPod.  The last 3 miles of my route were almost entirely up hill and I was gassed.  Somehow I managed to finish and stumble off my bike and into the house on rubbery legs.  Just in time to change and drive the boys to volleyball practice.  Saturdays--at least at our house--are certainly no day of rest!

The Long Ride Home

My Route

I went for another ride last Saturday.  It wasn't my longest ride (only about 45 miles) nor was it my toughest.  But it was significant for me.  I rode from my house in San Clemente to the house I grew up in.  As a kid, I remember being in awe when I heard of an older boy in my ward who would ride from our town (Encinitas) up to San Onofre.  I thought it was crazy talk--that only Tour de France riders rode that far.

My ride was actually longer because I rode past San Onofre on my way south.  I may be crazy, but I'm certainly no professional rider.  This was my last ride before my big event (the St. George Ironman) don Saturday though and I needed to prove to myself that I had learned some lessons from past (bad) experiences.

The ride itself was beautiful.  I basically rode along the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) for the entire way.  Here are some of the sights from my ride:

I rode right past the front gates of San Onofre...

...down to Camp Pendleton (note the ocean in the distance)...

...to Carlsbad...

...and right past a wedding party...Mazel Tov!

By the time I got home, I was pumped and ready to eat.  Fortunately, my mom did not disappoint and had homemade tacos ready to go.  I think my mom is a little concerned about my race this weekend though.  She wanted to know how I was going to swim 2.4 miles (longer than I've ever gone in my life), then bike 112 miles (over twice as long as my Saturday ride), and then run a marathon.  Here's how the conversation went:

Mom:  "G., I'm worried and I don't think you should be doing this race next week.  Aren't these types of triathlons for people that...."
Me: "...Know what they're doing?"
Mom: "Well, yeah that too, but aren't these types of races really for people that are actual athletes who spend their lives training for this stuff?"

Gee, thanks Mom.  At least she's worried about me though.  My wife...not so much.  J. was there at the house when I showed up as well.  Her only comment was that she wanted to make sure that my life insurance was all paid up!

J., don't worry, it is and if anything happens to me during the race, you'll be able to drown your sorrows in shopping!  :)

My Good Samaritan

My "Mecca" - The Queen K Highway
(viewed faintly as the line on the right)

I had a couple of firsts today...here's one of them:

I went for a bike ride today.  I had been waiting to ride this particular stretch of road for quite sometime and then I got less than 2 miles into my ride when I hit a chunk of something in the road.  Even through my headphones, I immediately heard a loud hissing sound.  I had my first flat!

I stopped riding and set to work.  I still consider myself a novice rider--definitely not a pro, so I decided to look at it as a challenge to get this flat changed on my own.  Even though I've never changed a flat, I had seen Youtube videos of how to do it and I thought that I knew how to do it in theory.


I felt like I was making good progress when all of a sudden, I noticed a car backing up toward me on the highway.  It was one of the guys from the bike shop--my good Samaritan!  He gave me a few pointers and, because it was getting dark, offered to throw my bike in his truck and drop me off at the bike shop just down the road.

Not my bike, but you get the idea...

Even though I thought I was on my way, I was extremely grateful for the help.  It was actually a good thing that I ended up at the bike shop too because the impact had ruptured the sidewall of the tire--meaning that I would have to replace the tire as well as the inner tube.  It would have been unsafe to just change the tube and  keep riding.

So I was grateful for the help that arrived even before I realized how much I really needed it.  Sometimes I think life is like that.  We have a loving Heavenly Father that is willing to give us blessings even before we realize that we need to ask for them.  I really need to be sure to thank Him in my prayers tonight for sending Bob--the guy from the bike shop.

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Chrissie Wellington rides the Queen K

The stretch of road I was all pumped to ride is the site of the World Ironman Championships.

Participating in this race is on my bucket list.  The only way to get in to is (literally) win a lottery or qualify as an "age grouper" competitor.

Sadly, my odds of winning the Kona lottery (205 slots are reserved for more than 70,000 entrants in the lottery) are probably much better than my odds of qualifying as an age grouper. But that doesn't stop me from dreaming!  =o)

The nature of the race lends itself to great inspirational stories.  My experience today reminded me of one of my favorite inspiring stories and a great example of sportsmanship.

Chrissie Wellington is the Michael Jordan of the women's Ironman.  One year during the race, she got a flat tire.  (Maybe close to where I got mine?)

She went to fix her flat, but her CO2 cannister failed.  She had no backup.  She had been out in front leading the race, but now competitor after competitor passed her.  The spectators could not give her assistance or she would be disqualified.  Without a tiny little cannister of compressed air to fill her tire up, she would not even be able to finish the race--a major upset.

The only person that could provide her assistance would be another competitor.  But doing so might mean that that competitor might not be able to fix their own tire if he/she got a flat.  In addition, helping Chrissie might mean that the competitor might lose to Chrissie.  Finally, after what must have seemed liken an eternity--at least to Chrissie--one competitor (anonymous as far as I remember) tossed Chrissie a spare cartridge.

Chrissie finished fixing her tire, got back on her bike, made up the time, passed all of the other female competitors to finish first after the bike portion, and went on to win the championship!  Talk about inspiring!

But what was most inspiring was the example of sportsmanship from the fellow competitor.  It really reminded me of the story of Jesse Owens and Luz Long in the long jump competition at the 1936 Olympics.

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I know my story is not as dramatic as those of Chrissie Wellington and Jesse Owens, but I don't think you have to be an elite athlete to appreciate sportsmanship or to have gratitude for those people who unexpectedly appear in our lives to help us at times when we may need them most.