35 (aka 40+)

The calendar on the team website said our ride on Saturday was supposed to be 35 miles, starting and ending in Los Gatos. I woke up, drove to Los Gatos, ready (well, sort of ready) to ride 35 miles. During annoucements, our coach asked us to raise our hands if we thought the ride was supposed to be 35 miles. Looking around sheepishly, I raised my hand. Slowly, other participants, coaches and mentors raised their hands. I thought it was a trick question. It wasn't, but it did have a tricky answer.

Our ride on Saturday was 40+ miles. I say 40+ because my computer said 44.8 (clearly a bit off) while the coaches said 40 and MapMyRide.com said 41. So I'll say I did 40+ miles of riding on Saturday - the farthest I've ever ridden! I was nervous to start the ride and incredibly proud of myself when I knew I would finish. I know that sounds weird, but it's true.

Somewhere around mile 23 of the Rock 'n Roll Marathon in 2005 I had the "I will finish this" epiphany. Seeing the finish line was an emotional and incredible feeling at mile 26 or so, but the best feeling I had that whole day (and in all of my days either training for or doing other events) was at the exact moment I realized I would finish the race. It was my "Aha!" moment, as Oprah would say. Note: I don't actually watch Opera because I have boycotted her show ever since she ripped James Frey to shreds for his memoir "A Million Little Pieces," but I think she has copyrighted the term "Aha!" moment. I wish I could find the shortcut to put a copyright stamp next to that phrase.

I won't bore you with the logistics of the ride or my super-boring turn-by-turn analysis, but suffice to say it was long, fun (at times), hard (at times), flat (at times), hilly (at times), and 40+ miles.

I'm almost to the halfway mark, which is really exciting yet REALLY terrifying to think about. I can hardly believe that by June 7th I'll be ready and prepared (and willing) to ride 100 miles on my bike.

Thank you to my coaches, my pacegroup, my very generous doners (not the kind that are willing to give me a lung if one should collapse during training or the race, but the kind that donated money to help me meet my fundraising goal!), and Ken for letting my borrow his car so that I can take my bike places and for putting up with my never-ending-stories about my adventures in cycling. It really can't be that fun to listen to because I secretly loathe hearing the same thing from other people. Shh, don't tell.