And I did. We climbed hills, we got lost, we got tired, we got sweaty, we got smaller, we got hurt, and we got nice cold beers at the end of it all. What started out a group of twenty fresh-faced riders at the North Hollywood Metro Station at 6:00am on Sunday dwindled down to five tired, hungry, dirty warriors, and I am proud to say that I was one of the remaining five.
About sixteen miles in, myself and another rider lost the pack on a hill. When we tried to catch up, we made a wrong turn, and then ended up detouring about ten miles to regroup. At several points during those first forty miles I wondered with despair if I would actually see my odometer turn over one hundred, and not because I could not do it, but because there was some slight disorganization. But somehow I found myself with the group. Unfortunately, a satellite group got more lost than I did and ended up in entirely the wrong place, which brought us down to seven. About twenty more miles in, and another was dropped with a flat. At seventy-five miles another one went home. It was me and four lads. I had a lot to prove to myself.
What I lack in speed and strength I make up in stamina, optimism, and sheer determination. The farther we went, the more driven I became to finish, even when I was left trailing far far behind on climbs (They kindly waited for me at the bottom...on the flats, however, I more or less kept up). Around mile ninety I really began to flag and it was simply because I was drinking watered down Gatorade and not just water. The moment I had a drop of pure water, I was revived. And then it was over.
While I found my first century completely feasible, there were moments during this one where I found myself truly fatigued (Although never defeated). This might be because I went in with zero training, it might be because of the dry valley heat, it might be because of the hills (The first forty miles were rolling), or it might be because I was trying to keep up a man's pace. During those last ten miles I could hear the voice tempting me to stop, seducing me with shade and rest and water, but I refused it. Even when I encountered a minor accident and fell, I refused that voice. I had set out for one hundred miles and I was going to get each and every one of them.
I rode one hundred miles to try to fill the emptiness that plagues me. I rode one hundred miles to show you (You know who you are) that I am stronger than you, that I don't give up, that I don't make excuses, that I don't stop, that I am free, that I am powerful, that you are giving up the best woman you could ever hope to know. I rode one hundred miles to prove that I am not what I seem, that looks are deceiving, that inside this bumble bee body is the spirit of an athlete. I rode one hundred miles because there is no right or wrong about it - it is one hundred miles.
The century may quickly become a hobby for me...after all, what better way to spend seven hours of your life?
All metaphors aside, it was a good ride and a tremendous pleasure to get to know my final four companions. And a cold Corona becomes exponentially better-tasting the more miles that come before it (This has been scientifically proven).
Photo courtesy of Matt Speed.In other news, last weekend I went to my first ever estate sale, which was incredible and incredibly unsettling. For some reason I had decided I finally wanted a bed frame for my bed. Locating a free one on Craigslist, I drove over to retrieve it and happened upon the estate sale. Armed with ten dollars, I decided to check it out and oddly enough, just as I had been thinking that I should like some piece of furniture to store my shoes in, I came upon this gorgeous trunk.
It fulfills all my functional and aesthetic needs and desires. I am discovering that I have a taste for beautiful furniture.
We were allowed to walk through the apartment and basically ask for the price of anything we could pick up. It was chilling to do so and odd to watch value assigned to objects which could have been more or less precious than their dollar worth. She had been a Jewish woman, seemingly single and, naturally, very fond of cats and lap dogs, and jewelery. When I die, there will be a fleet of bicycles to price and discard, and the bike that will be worth the least in cash will be the one I prized most in life.
I found a photo frame divided up into four squares. Each square holds a Polaroid of a small white dog, two of which are with human companions. For some reason this touched me, not only because it is quirky and weird, but because this was obviously a precious pet, and I figured that if I was going to buy this woman's things I might as well keep some semblance of her alive. I also bought some classical recordings on vinyl complete with illustrated books. They might be from the 1920s.
In other other news, I think I love Empire of the Sun - a lot. I wish I lived in their world.
Catch me, I'm falling down.
Posts
1 comment:
Liz, I am very proud of you. We who ride do it for many different reasons...but riding because of the sheer pleasure of turning a crank is probably the best reason yet! Life is like riding a bicycle, to keep your balance you have to keep moving. (Attributed to Albert Einstein). Keep moving and riding little bumble bee! You should get a black and yellow outfit :-)
Post a Comment