Saturday's Best

 a friend talked me into the Tour of Dallas.  "Why", would others postulate "would you pay $30 to ride around the lake and dallas when you do that for free everyday?".  That's a very good question.

The night before, i prepped my bike, I drank conservatively (mgd 64 w a good friend) and mentally put myself in the game. After all, this is not a race, it's a tour. A "Slow" one.

I am beginning to understand that in cycling, "Slow", is a relative term.  Even when the creators of the tour state specifically, "Slow", and especially when the guys who sponsor RBM rides say "Slow".  Slow.

Slow, in my book, is a leisurely pace. But not anymore.  Slow means go as fast as your little legs will pedal.   And i'm pretty sure, that's not a good thing.

I got up at 5 am and got breakfast and my bike ready. This time, a whole cup of oatmeal and a little sugar. I put on minimal clothes, knowing it would be in the 80s.  "Anything you put on your body" I said to myself "you have to carry when you dont want to wear it anymore". I really need to invest in one of those small bicycle messenger bags.

I raced full speed at 6 am to the train station. Thank GOD it wasn't windy, because it was sure damn cold. I was shivering and when i got there, a handful of ppl were ready. All shivering.  "Why do we do this?" was  chiming away in my head.  Btw..none of my friends showed.

This was also my first time on the train w a bike. A lot of my friends are starting to commute w/ their bikes on the trains.  You'd think, for an event as big as this, that they would add another train from one of the most popular cycling areas in town.

We crammed in our bikes to the dismay of poor, regular train ridin' folks.  I made friends fast with the people that were going, and I liked them all, especially their stories of why they were doing this.

When we exited the train, we found ourselves downtown and loud music playing.  I found the start of the 30 milers. I noticed it looked like an RBM ride. The bikes and bike pockets on jerseys were minimal at best, and it made my stuffed pockets looked like i preparing to ride a century.

I chewed on a m ini cliff bar, waiting any sign of a familiar face. These guys were just like at any other bike ride...focused, quiet, and chatting quietly to their pal next to them, but not overly friendly or outgoing.

When it was time to go, i discovered most of my friends were way in the back, so i decided to stay where i was, and go w/ the pack.

Let me interject something here.  Before every ride or race, the national anthem is played.   Our nations flag, was exactly eclipsing the rising sun.  Even now, just thinking about that sight, with our anthem playing loudly over the speakers, bike helmets removed and placed over hearts,  brings tears into my eyes.  I don't know why, but after all my travels, I love the USA so much, that this brings me to tears.  This is best country in the world and our citizen pay for that freedom daily.

So thank you to all the military and politicians and people, and even my grandparents, who gave me the chance to live in a comfortable life without fear of persecution for just being alive and female.
Ok sap over, now onto the ride (slow race i mean)

OFf we went.  Kaboom!! Right out of the gate. Hungry dogs chasing the rabbit.  I hauled it with the rest of the pack and to my delight, discovered that i was in a strong mode, and not a weak one.

The same jerseys kept appearing around  me, so I figured i was going about the same pace as those around me. Through the streets of dallas downtown, then thru the neighbhorhoods.  Swiss Avenue is such a favorite. God, those homes are breathtaking. I can't even imagine growing up in one.

As soon as we hit the lake, however, the game was really on. that's my hood, and i know it well, it turns out.  Hours and days on the lake, turned into a familiarity i hadn't considered.  My bike knows it's way.

What that means is, when you know a route so well, you know when to change gears, when to conserve energy, when to blow up and when to attack.  I flew. And it was awesome because it was coned off and there were no joggers, no kids, nothing but bicycles and the first peleton...and I was at the back end of it.

As we rounded the north park of the lake, i noticed we were going to mockingbird. Oh awesome! The FEW times you can actually ride that road without fear of a mad motorist totally pissed your bike is slowly taking up his lane. Instict is what drives you fast on that road..survival instinct. I was still with the pack.

As we came around the lake, i noticed one big thing. No wind.  "IS this what it's like to cycle the lake without the wind?" Coz i was flying, again.  As we charged up the asphalt hill, it suddenly dawned on me if we were going to be routed the Northcliff hill.  We weren't and it was coned off. The peleton flew over the barricade and down the hill, but a few bikes turned left.

My clem is rarely allowed the golden opp of skipping the hill, and she turned left. Why not. Best time up that damn hill and i flew down the other side. The end of the pack just flew past as i was coming down the hill, but i didn't have to observe that stop sign, and jumped into the front of the chase group.

Chase group? Peleton?  One thing i've come to understand about cyclist.  IF it's possible to turn a
tour into a race, they'll do it.  I caught up with the peleton when they routed us through a parking lot I wasn't used to going to.  FIne with me, except it was asphalt chunky. suck.

Then, as smart as luck would have it, we got to charge up Garland. No bike trail, No swinging in and out of runners and skaters, but the road. I flew like i had a cape on. I even tried to joke w/ the guy next to me about how big that was...he just ignored me. rEally dude? That' serious? OK fine. I chicked his ass and left him in my dust.

At this point, i looked down at my computer.  It read about 26 miles. Sweet..i was gonna punch it because we were almost done, and i still had plenty of gas in the tank.  I really forgot that i had included the time of my ride to the train station.  Rookie mistake.

We charged up Winstead. i was ready but my legs were a bit shaky.  But once i was over that bitch of a hill, the game was back on.  I flew over crap asphalt roads full of pot holes and ruts and tracks.  We flew.
I wasn't in a main group anymore, having been dropped on Winstead, but i charged on, not really knowing where I was to the other cyclists.

But, this one guy, in a postal jersey, was back and forth around me, and i decided to gauge off of him.  I kept going. I decided at this point, what's the point of slowing down? I felt good and went for it.

I bounced all over the road, and my bike saddle continued to tweek that nuisance of a nerve.  It hurt down into my  knee and my foot. Suck it up! Ride through the pain. Probably not a wise idea, but what the hell, im on a bike.

Me and that postal guy were subconsciously chasing each other.  Fine with me. i was up to it, and i was ready for another 10 miles when BAM!  The end?!?  YEs, and no warning just flew right in.
A woman with cowbells clapped at me and pointed and told me "fantastic job!".  I crossed the line and she's excited. OK that's fine.

I rolled in and looked around. Surely my friends did the 10 and were already sipping beers behind a barricade some where.  No friends.  BUT THERE WAS PIZZA. And god bless em, lots of it.

I looked down at my bike computer, and noticed it said 2000 cals.  Pizza it is bitch!

I got a slice and back up on my bike near some nice trees around the plaza. It was so pretty there.  I loved seeing all the cyclists greet their friends and talk and laugh. But i noticed one thing...there weren't that many of us.

As i threw my trash in the bin, the postal jersey guy was finishing his piece. I said "I was behind you the whole way". He said "No, i was behind you, you kicked ass ride btw".  That caught me off guard, and he introduced himself as Mike.  I felt oddly self conscious, and bid him goodbye. I need to work on my closing skills. But it was nice to be complimented on a ride, for a change.

One by one my friends appeared. When asked for my time, i realized that i had forgotten to reset my bike computer from the train ride, but i had my iphone app on.  I forgotten that i had turned in on minutes before the race started. I did some quick math.  "30 miles in 1:30".  I doubled took the time.

My friend looked at me with big eyes. "No shit".  It hadn't really sunk in.  After the shit performance i had last weekend, the fact that i could even get near that, and still be walking was  unreal.

I know this wasn't a race, but something in me needed to prove that all those hours on my bike, all those sacraficed nights out w/ my friends, meant something.

The great thing about hashers, is they are a social group.  Soem of my friends, who ride, get a ride in, then haul ass back home to be w/ their families. Not hashers.  When they are out, they are OUT and they are IN for the party. God bless them. I love all of them.

Per my pals brilliant suggestion, and after a small beer, we scooted down to Deep Ellum to what is quickly becoming my most fav hamburger joint in town. Twisted Root.  Its a serious meat party in my mouth, even when they manage to turn a burger into a salad. Yum. YUM. And the beers are well priced.

When my friends, all hot and dusty and smelly, toast their good rides to a beer, or good runs, you can't help but think..this is a blessing. I am rich.

Stac and i decided to cut it early. i wish i could have gone to the arts festival, but i was starting to stiffen up, and i still had a train ride and bike ride home.

One casualty of the ride..my sunglass bag. I hated losing that, bec its made of the best microfiber for cleaning the glasses.  If thats all i managed to lose, im doing pretty good. Ebay, maybe?

I rode home, and the wind sig kicked in. It was hard riding on my bike with a MONSTER gift bag full of cliff bars (my booty for the taking...do you know how $$$ cliff bars are?).  But i made it home, with a huge, painful grin.

The only sad part of the night, is the amount of food i consumed when i got home. As declined as i've been lately, i let myself go.  Left over pizza *oh yeah and i had another slice at the end party*, a pbj, weight watchers lemon cake, 100 cal cookie pack and two low sugar fudgecicles.
then i fell into a food induced coma.

God life is good.

Oh and in answer to your question. "Why would you pay $30 to ride dallas? Because you got to do it full speed without stopping for any lights or cars." FULL SPEED. NO LIGHTS.

And for that..Dallas Cops YOU ROCK. A shout out  to those who gave up their saturday's to keep us safe.  You are the unsung heros.

But work starts at 7 am tomorrow.

time for an early bed.   Clear calm skies.