Keith dropped back and as I slowly rolled up to him he asked, "How are you feeling?"
It was hard to breathe because I was crying. "I'm having a hard time. Today is a bad bike day."
|Yes, this did happen.|
The last 10 miles were a tangible reminder that in life we are never alone- there are people who act as our steady wheels, shielding and blocking the wind from us so we can arrive at our destination in one piece.
|Was able to do this with the wisdom of my teammates and coaches.|
Thinking back on past training workouts, I rarely remember the easy, good days. It's those hard days; the ones that really made a dent physically and mentally- that I can recall vividly.
I can remember the first time I climbed through Morgan Territory, feeling the lactic acid in my legs, and with each turn, seeing the pitch in the road curve ever so slightly upward. Countless times I contemplated getting off my bike to "stretch" (aka. catch my breath). But I didn't. I kept chugging onward. I kept moving forward. And I remember how that ride taught me that my little legs have more stamina than I give them credit for.
Or that steep little climb right at the top of Mt. Diablo. You know, the one where you want to zigzag your bike to offset the grade percentage, or walk your bike up, or kill whoever constructed the road at such an angle? Yes, these are the rides I remember. These are my "small wins."
|Today's ride distance and the yummy Wolf food that helped fuel me.|
Today at mile 70 I said that it was a bad bike day.
I was wrong.
Today was a small win.