Late in the afternoon on November 22, 2008, I pedaled my way over the finish line for El Tour de Tucson XXVI, completing 109 miles of bicycling that I'd started by crossing the start line at five minutes after 7 in the morning, a couple thousand riders already starting ahead of me in those five minutes. I finished nine hours and thirty-two minutes after I started, in 3,487th place out of the 3,814 riders who completed the entire 109 miles.
Click here to read my transcribed voice posts from the day of the ride for more detail.
It was my third century ride in slightly over a year, and the second year in a row I've ridden El Tour de Tucson - and in many ways, the two rides were like night and day for me. The weather was equally gorgeous and tame, starting in the low 50s in the morning and topping out in the mid-70s. But my training had gone very differently, and my riding habits were very different as well.
I still had more strength in my core from working on it in the spring while preparing for America's Most Beautiful Bike Ride in Tahoe in June, and although it wasn't as strong as I'd hoped, it did help me take fewer and shorter breaks instead of having to nurse my back every hour or so. I had also learned a lot of valuable lessons during last year's Tucson ride about feeding myself constantly, hydrating myself effectively with electrolyte powder, putting on plenty of sunscreen, getting a good night's sleep beforehand, and wearing shorts with thicker padding... so I never had a moment like last year's where I felt like I was simply too exhausted to finish the ride.
On the other hand, I missed a lot of training rides this fall. Between the weather, greater demands on my time at work, and other issues, I just didn't work as hard to get my legs strong. And I felt it, but not for a while, and not nearly as badly as I expected. For the first several hours, I really felt great - I had some trouble climbing hills, but my riding was otherwise strong and efficient, and I was very glad to be out there. As I alluded to in one of my voice posts, on more than one occasion I thought the rest of my teammates were ahead of me when they were actually behind me, and vice versa (we were just stopping at different rest stops, and hopping over each other, basically). I wasn't doing too badly by comparison, though I knew the effect would worsen at the end of the day when they had more steam in reserve than I did.
Nevertheless, when I realized I had overestimated how much it would affect my overall time on the ride, and I actually had a shot at finishing earlier this year than last, I knew I had to seize the opportunity. All of my teammates had passed me for good by this point, but that was fine. I knew my training had been subpar, and unlike last year the cyclists on the team who were weaker than I had dropped out a couple of months ago, so I knew that one way or another I was almost certain to finish last; the only question was how far behind.
So I hammered my way through those last fifteen miles, especially - with my knees starting to hurt from the exertion, and beginning to run low on my last bottle of Gatorade (or so I thought, anyway; as it turned out, I still had one more packet of mix buried in a pocket somewhere). And at this late stage of the ride, with the police actually stopping us to let suburban automobile traffic through, I was forced to channel my frustration at those stops and renew my efforts.
But it paid off - just as our route took us onto the downtown flats that begin two miles from the finish line at the Tucson Convention Center, I felt my phone vibrate, and I checked to see that Coach Kurt had sent me a text message: "How are you doing, sir?" The rest of the team had finished, and had obviously had time to gather themselves and their thoughts together long enough to wonder just how far behind I was. So I answered him the best way I knew how - by powering up the flats at 20mph, rounding the corner, and finishing the damn ride.
This time, Mom and Dad were both there, as was my old friend Mark, and it was a relief to get off the bike, check in, and get my medal.So I finished this year four minutes earlier than I had last year - but my bike's computer registered a ride time of 7 hours and 32 minutes, meaning it took me about twenty minutes longer to do the actual 109 miles of pedaling. As I'd planned, I made it through with fewer and far shorter breaks, which more than made up for the slower biking and accounted for getting me across the finish line sooner.
But another thing I pondered was this: Last year, I started in the back of the Gold group, which meant I crossed the start line pretty quickly after 7am. This year I started with the rest of the team (minus Anna and Peach, who were shooting for gold medals) in the Bronze section, and we didn't cross the start line until 7:05am. If our ankle chips were scanned at the start line when we actually crossed, then my ride really took nine hours and thirty-two minutes; if on the other hand they were all set with a default start time of exactly 7am, then the time it took me to bike the 109-mile route was really nine hours and twenty-seven minutes, and I shaved nine minutes off my time. Naturally, I sent an e-mail to the organizers to ask them which it is, because I'm just that obsessive - and the answer came back this morning that the start time was 7am for everyone, meaning I actually shaved nine minutes off my time. Woohoo!
(Not officially, but whatever.)
The victory celebration was a nice turkey dinner, just like last year's, and this time instead of feeling burned out from too much sun, I just had trouble using my knees. To my pleasant surprise, the next morning I was getting around just fine, and my knees have been great ever since. My back had trouble on the flights back on Sunday, and then went into full spasms on Tuesday, but I've fully recovered from that now. Last night was bike pickup, so my bike is now back in its rightful place in my apartment's entry hallway.
I even got a very nice e-mail this morning from Team in Training, asking if I would be a mentor or fundraising captain again for the spring/summer season, as I did this past spring. But I politely declined this time, because I think I need a season off - several months during which when I bike, it's because I want to. I made sure to let them know I'd be available as a fundraising resource if they needed me, though.
Which brings me to the final point, and the reason I was doing this in the first place: So far, friends, family, colleagues, and complete strangers have sponsored me for this second El Tour de Tucson ride to the tune of $14,774, which will go to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society to support its missions of blood cancer research, patient support, and lobbying efforts. I'm very grateful for everyone's support! Still, it's not quite 75% of the way to my 2008 goal of $20,000; and in fact it's still short of my total from last year, $15,395. I would really love to top last year, even with the economy in its current state.
If you haven't made a donation yet, there is still time. There are even a few miles left open that you could sponsor retroactively with a $109 donation (see the sidebar to your right)! Click the link below for information on how to give by credit card or check. Please also feel free to share the information with your friends and family if you think they would be interested; I'm perfectly happy to have strangers sponsor me if it'll help the LLS find new treatments and cures. Thank you for reading, and for supporting my ride and this important cause!
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