January, 2009, marked both my 50th birthday and a life-changing decision to purchase my first “serious” bike. So, in my typical analytical style, I scoped out the bike shop that felt right to me, did a lot of research on what I wanted, went through a proper bike fit, and took the plunge. The very expensive plunge. I ordered a Seven, and yes I know what you’re thinking, “that’s a lot of bike for a rookie” – but something about the way that bike looked and its potential spoke to me. No, screamed at me. Coincidentally I placed the order on Valentine’s Day, appropriate since that bike would soon become part of what I think has become the greatest love affair of my life: riding.
I remember when it was finally delivered to the bike shop and I rushed to see it for the first time. “Holy f*ck” were the only words that I could think of at that moment. My bike shop guy smiled. It was incredibly beautiful – a piece of art. Shiny, smooth steel, cool as I ran my hands along its frame. I couldn’t wait to ride. Ha! I’m so glad there were only strangers around to see me on those first feeble attempts. I certainly paid my dues with clipless pedals. My proclivity for swearing came in handy for venting my frustration and masking my embarrassment.
Fast forward to September when I finished my first century. I like to say that I went from 0 to 100 in about five months. Although I didn’t light the world on fire that day by setting any records, it was quite an accomplishment for a lifelong klutz who never completed or even attempted an athletic endeavor in her life. I remember feeling incredibly strong as I pedaled to the finish, but there was something happening that was so much more than what I was feeling physically.
Those five months leading up to the century were filled with many hours on the bike, some great, some not as much. My skills improved, I made friends who understand and share my desire to be riding above all else most days, had my first (and hopefully only) encounter with a car that sideswiped me and left me bruised and a little bloody, and spent many nights tired and sore…and loved every single minute. Above all else, I became a sponge for learning – reading, watching, and heeding trusted advice, and putting that newfound knowledge to work on the bike. I’ve discovered that riding brings me joy like I’ve never known before, and I think I’m truly happy only when I’m on that bike.
So as I approach another birthday, I’ve taken on a new challenge: in July I will be riding from London to Paris in four days. This space will document my journey, one that will either lead to the most rewarding experience of my life or kill me. Either way I plan to have fun along the way.
It would be great if you join me on this quest but if not, I’m goin’ anyway…