The First Ride

I had an epiphany today. Well, "epiphany" might be an overstatement, but it was still an unexpected insight into the inner workings of my subconscious.

I was talking with a co-worker about biking. He's totally into it. I used to be.  But now I'm not sure where I stand.  He was talking about his ride this weekend - first time out this season and he can't believe how out of shape he is.  I mentioned that I don't know when I'll be back out there. In fact, I don't even know if I'll be back out there.

How sad, for something I used to look forward to and love, I'm now saying that I don't know if and when I'll be out there.

Anyway, at that very moment it occurred to me:  If I'm to get back out on my bike again, I have to have a first ride of the season.  And what happened last year during my first ride of the season?  I had a very hard fall.  I was lucky and have recovered well, but I still can't shake the memory.

Even though I just passed the one year "anniversary" of that day, my recovery has been prolonged by two recent root canals in teeth damaged by the accident. And next month, the plastic surgeon will remove what she believes is a piece of lingering gravel in my top lip.

To everyone else, thankfully, I look the same.  But it's been hard work to get there - over 2,000 hours of wearing a steroid tape (which looks like scotch tape) on my upper lip and over 50 hours (in 10 minute increments) of lip massage, both to prevent and minimize scarring.  I'm really pleased with the results, but it's still not my old face.

So there it is:  the first ride is my block.  I just need to figure out if and when I can get past it.

Digging Deep

Okay, it's almost show time. The PMC is just 34 hours away.  I'm trying to stay calm and just breathe.

I know - well, I don't know, but I'm pretty sure - that I won't have another freak bike accident sending me face first into the pavement like I did in March.  But the impending weekend just stirs it all up again for me.

That pavement hurt.  My face, though relatively unchanged to most people (or so they say) is still in the midst of healing.  To me, my face isn't what it was, but I'm still staying hopeful as I wait to  see what the next several months will bring.

Am I ready - both physically and mentally -  to ride the 163 miles from Wellesley to Provincetown this weekend?  Yes, I think I'm ready.  I'm not in perfect form, but I'm in good enough form and I will do just fine.  Not an easy admission from a lifelong perfectionist, but it is what it is.  I'll do just fine.

I'm thankful to the PMC for getting me back out on my bike after my accident.  It's been my primary driver and reason for riding the last several months.  My participation last year taught me that not much can compete with the high of riding the PMC.  The cause, the crowds along the route, the camaraderie on the road, and the knowledge that for two full days, I'm part of something big, part of the solution.  It's almost overwhelming.

We ride the PMC for a higher purpose:  To help fund life saving cancer treatment. I've tried to keep that in the front of my mind as I faced the fear of getting back on my bike to train.  The day of my accident, I was lucky in that what happened to me could be fixed.  I ride the PMC with the hope and the goal that those with cancer can also be fixed.

So as the weekend approaches, I'm trying to dig deep and just breathe.  The reward of participation will make it all worth it.

Back in the Saddle

So, quietly and without a lot of fanfare, I've gotten back on my bike and begun doing training rides again.  Riding is still scary for me, but I'm trying to put that aside as best I can and begin enjoying the ride again.

It's interesting to look back and see how I made this progression. After my accident, I couldn't even look at my bike, let alone touch it or clean it off. Eventually, I was able to take that step and then get my bike into my car and to the repair shop.

After it was fixed, I drove around with it in my car for a few weeks. I didn't even realize I was doing this until my daughter asked why it was still in the car.  It sounds funny, but I responded that I was keeping it in the car so my bike and I could be near each other. I needed to learn how to trust it again and maybe if I drove around with it in my car for a few weeks, that would help.

In fact, it did help. I then was able to get back on for a biking "light" ride with my son, as documented in my previous post.

The next challenge, which I've been told is in typical Lisa fashion, was for me to face the fear head on. So one morning when I was feeling brave, I got on my bike wearing the same clothes I had on the day of my accident and rode the route I should have finished on that unlucky day.

I had visions of what my reaction would be when I passed over "the scene".  Would I stop, get off the bike and quietly remember or would I bike right over with my fist shaking in anger?

Oddly enough, a car passed by me at the exact minute I came upon "the scene", almost knocking me off the road.  I just hung on and kept riding.  Maybe that was for the best. I've been told I'm an overthinker and maybe I've done enough thinking about my crash.

I've been out for several more rides since, both riding alone and in groups.  It's been fun and scary. It's made me anxious and calm.  I'm sure my riding will be filled with conflicting emotions for a long time, maybe forever.

But for now, I'm just trying to take it one mile at a time and one ride at a time, and hoping that it will get easier.

Back On: Biking "Light"

I should have mentioned this earlier, but about two weeks ago I actually got back on my bike for the first time since my accident.  I knew I would need some hand holding and my 12 year old son was offering to do it.

During school vacation week, we decided to take a trip down to Lexington Center and bike along the Minuteman Bikeway, as we had done on the first day of summer vacation almost two years ago.  We had a great mom and son ride that time so I thought that repeating that experience would be a nice way to ease back into the saddle.  And I was right.

But before I could get back on my bike, I had to get back in my bike clothes, which I hadn't touched since my accident.  This, it turned out, was just as emotional as getting back on my bike.  I realized that the last time I put these clothes on I was so naive. I had no idea how hard the pavement could be.  And seeing that my nice new bike jacket suffered some road rash, too, made my stomach twinge.

The act of getting back on my bike was filled with different emotions, though I couldn't wallow in them too much given I had my son along for the ride.  Being back on felt familiar but scary, natural and unnatural.

It also felt a little anti-climatic, like this big huge monster fear that had been living in the back of my mind actually wasn't going to come out and strike me face first to the pavement again.  Maybe it felt this way, though, because in my mind this wasn't "real" biking - it was biking "light", like going for a nice stroll through a garden.  Maybe the real demons won't come out until I'm back on the road doing training rides.

But it was a step. A good step. And the first of many baby steps.

Here is a shot my son took of me during a pit stop.  The shadows hide the remaining road rash and the healing scar on my face. The doctor said that I will get my old face back but it will take some time.


We picked a beautiful day and had a great mom and son ride.  We took in some nice views, had a leisurely ride and had some great conversations.  Thanks for getting me back in the saddle, buddy!

Repair Work: The Rider (Part II)

Here it is six weeks after my accident and I'm still working on the emotional repair.  It would be so much easier if my wounds hadn't been so visible.

I know I'm healing extremely well but I'm tired of feeling "marred".  I look in the mirror constantly and see a face that is marred.  That's all I see and I can't get past it.  Flawed. Imperfect.  Injured.  Marred.

My upper lip and chin are still discolored, though at least they've faded to the pink hues.  Although my lip still feels split to some extent, I have regained most of my lip line.  But the texture on my upper lip looks suspect and I'm starting to worry the skin there will never be smooth again.

Family and friends have been so supportive through all of this and I'm so thankful for that. Most have commented on my amazing healing abilities and tell me I barely look any different than before.  But I still worry.  I pray I'll get my old face back exactly as it was.

Did I appreciate it enough back then?  I'm sure I didn't.  But I know I'll appreciate it fully if I ever get it back again.

Repair Work: The Rider (Part I)

If only the repair of the rider was as simple and as painless as the repair of the bike.

But unfortunately, that's not the case.  Rider recovery - both physical and emotional - has been and will continue to be a process.

Speaking purely of my physical recovery, by all accounts I'm doing extremely well.  The plastic surgeon has commented on this several times.  My husband has even referred to me as a "time lapse photograph":  every time he looks at me, I look better and better and more like my old self.  Even I, my worst critic, can see significant improvement and a light at the end of the tunnel.

I started out in pretty rough shape.  As I detailed in my "Hard Fall" post, I landed face first on pavement with absolutely no warning while biking 15 mph.  For my own reference, here's an inventory of the damage done in that split second:

• I split my upper lip vertically all the way through, halfway up to my nose.  
• Four of my previously perfect top teeth were lost or chipped:  I lost a top front tooth, root and all. I also chipped three more and knocked one out of place. 
• I had significant road rash and cuts on my chin and upper lip. More road rash also appeared on my right cheek, with cuts on my nose and neck. 
• My neck and jaw were stiff and painful.  A few days later this pain extended itself to every bone and muscle in my body.
• The swelling in my jaw joints prevented me from being able to open my mouth.  It later led to painful earaches. 
• My right wrist and the knuckles on my right hand were swollen and blue. 
• I had bruises and road burns through my riding pants on the left side of both knees.   

Well that's a sucky list.  But again, I know it could be much, much worse.  Plus, the body has amazing healing abilities and I'm doing so much better now.

My repair work began at Lawrence General Hospital, where I found myself in the capable hands of Dr. Drew Remignanti.  Although there was no plastic surgeon on hand that night, he had consulted with one by phone and stitched me up with the skill and perfection that you would only find with an ER doctor who has been doing this for 30 years.  I'm seeing a top Boston plastic surgeon and he has told me I got very lucky getting this ER doctor that night and I that I should write him and thank him. (That has always been my plan but I'm waiting until I have a good "after" picture to send him.)

Two oddities exist with me being paired with Dr. Drew that night:  First off, his name.  The only other adult "Drew" I know is also my favorite riding buddy.  Second, I later learned that this doctor also graduated from my alma mater, Dartmouth College, ten years earlier.  Little did I know at the time that a fellow member of the Dartmouth family had come to my aid.  What a fortuitous paring.

More repair work was done by our dentist and good friend, Peter Eliopoulos.  Peter actually drove up to the ER to see me, prompting Dr. Drew to remark that he's never seen a dentist ever come to the ER in his 30 years practicing.  Although Peter couldn't do any treatment there, he was able to review my X rays and my jaw and let me know that fortunately, I was still in occlusion (this is a good thing).  My jaw was still aligned and he could fix everything else.

Peter's presence had a huge calming effect on me and I can't thank him enough.  My dental repair will be a process but I'm in very capable hands and know I will wind up with more perfect looking teeth than I had before my accident. Here's a link to Peter's office if you live in the Boston area and are ever looking for a good dentist.

All other repair work has been accomplished by the passage of time.  My aches and pains are gone. My scrapes and burns have been healing  My stitches are out with no evidence yet of a scar. The only thing that remains are two red and sore patches on my face - one over my lip and one on my chin.  They still occasionally burn and sting, like today, so it's been a process.  I've been told the redness should be gone in the next several weeks.  I want my old face back but I know I have to be patient and let time heal me.

People have asked me about the pain I've experienced. It's hard to describe. I know I have an extremely high tolerance for physical pain, based on past experiences.  But I also have to say that in instances of serious trauma, the body seems to have a way of capping how much pain you can feel at any one time.  It also seems to slow down your mind, so that when you have multiple injuries, as I did, your attention is only able to focus on one thing at a time, prioritizing the rest in some predetermined or innate order.  This really helped prevent me from having a complete breakdown when I first saw my face in a mirror at the ER.

I have such a new appreciation for the human body - my body - after this event.  I'm blessed with unbreakable bones in my face and neck and wrist.  And the skin I inherited from my Polish and Canadian ancestors has wonderful healing properties.

This, I'm very thankful for.  I just want my old face back now.  But I know I have to be patient and let time heal me.

Repair Work: The Bike

This is a happy story and involves the repair of my bike.

Immediately following my accident, I had been so focused on my own repair that I forgotten the other victim of that fateful day:
my bike.

As I said earlier, for two weeks my bike sat quietly in the garage - neglected, spattered with blood, immobilized by a rogue stick locked in the front fork.  A sad site indeed.

But immediately after I wiped it down and loaded into my van, I drove it to my favorite bike shop, Cycle Loft in Burlington.  Although I didn't buy my bike there, I've been to the service department a few times at the recommendation of my friend Drew and always found them extremely helpful and friendly.  My plan was to tell the guys briefly what happened, leave the bike there to be repaired and then go back several days later to pick it up.

Instead what happened was this: I was greeted right away by an experienced mechanic.  He took my bike, put it up on the rack and began to check it out.  He asked what happened.  He cringed and expressed sympathy. I showed him my stitches and the teeth I lost. He pointed to the teeth he had lost in an accident. I told him I wanted to get back on but didn't know how or when.  He talked about the emotions of falling, what it takes to get back on and his sense that I was the kind of rider that would get back on.  He took the time and made a connection.

We talked about ten minutes as he worked.  When he was finished, he introduced himself as Sean (I believe), asked me my name, shook my hand and gave me back my bike.  No charge for the repair.  (Fortunately - and I guess I have my face to thank for this -  my bike didn't suffer too much damage in the fall).  I left the shop inspired and smiling.  Up until that point since my accident, I really hadn't smiled much.

Bike repair and rider therapy - exactly what my bike and I needed.

The Blood

This may sound a bit morbid, but for some reason I'm still having trouble getting past the image of all the blood.  My blood.

It seemed like it was everywhere after my accident:  all over my riding jacket and pants, in the road, covering my sunglasses and on my bike.

Who knew facial injuries could generate so much blood?

I guess it makes sense when you think about it, though. The face is so vascular. It is also so vulnerable and so unprotected.  But thankfully, probably due to how vascular it is, the face (or at least my face) heals quickly.

But back to the blood.  Why can't I shake the image?

I guess part of it for me was the novelty of it all.  I mean, how often do you actually see your own blood scattered about on so many different things?

And then to leave it there, staining the road, for others to see or bike past or drive over.  It's such a personal thing.  A life force that was inside my body is now outside my body and on display.  How odd is that?

Actually, I'll admit that the blood in the road did come in handy the day immediately after my accident. We were told by the ER trauma nurse that if you lose a tooth whole, as I did, that it can often be reinserted back into place if done quickly.  We didn't have the tooth and were wondering later if we had missed an opportunity.

So the next day, my husband, Ted, drove over to "the scene," as I now refer to it, followed the blood and looked for the tooth.  Alas, no whole tooth, so no missed opportunity.  However, he did find pieces of my teeth (here I go being morbid again) which he collected and handed to me when he returned home. This might sound odd but it was actually one of the nicest things Ted could have done for me at the time.  I could see the relief on his face as he told me he couldn't stand to have parts of his wife still scattered on the streets of North Andover.  In fact, that was his real motivation for going over there.

But back to the blood.

My bloody clothes were whisked off as soon as I returned home from the hospital, soaked in cold water and all evidence was washed out thoroughly.  So facing them later wasn't an issue.

The blood in the road was something I knew I had to see again to help make sense of it all.  Ted and I went back to "the scene" a few days later. I stood in the road and stared at the blood for several minutes. Then we got back in the car and went home.  The next day it was washed away by heavy rain showers.

My sunglasses were another thing. They sat tucked away in a corner, still covered in dried blood, for almost a week before I could muster up the courage to touch them.  Once I did, I quickly ran them under hot water, wiped them clean and bent them back into shape.  They now await my face if I'm ever ready to use them again.

The blood on the bike was the hardest to face.  Ted offered but I knew I had to do it.  A full two weeks passed before I was mentally able to pull my bike out of the garage and wipe it clean.  (Oddly, I found the most blood was located under my seat.)  After I removed any evidence of DNA, I loaded my bike into my van and brought to the repair shop (more on that later).  

So now, all evidence of my insides has been washed away or finally cleaned up.  I'm hoping it won't make an appearance again any time soon.

I think I'm ready to put this image behind me now.

What If...

These two words can be really powerful. They are equally capable of leading one down the path to a very dark place or to a very enlightened place.

A paradox. Much like the statement I made in my last post when I said that I was profoundly unlucky and profoundly lucky in less than an instant.

So what if? What if what?

Well, what if the worst happened?

Define worst.

Dying, brain damage, broken neck, paralyzed all come to mind. Next up would be broken jaw, crushed face bones, and nerve damage.

Okay, this is depressing.  I don't like this path.

There are other what ifs, though.  What if I didn't go biking that day? What if I left my house a split second sooner or later?  What if I didn't stop to take the picture of the swamp?  What if the car didn't pass me?  What if I had ridden with a friend instead of alone? Would the stick still have been kicked up into my front fork in that very instant anyway?

And what if it didn't happen?  Was I meant to fall face first on pavement at this point of my riding career to help protect me from an even worse biking accident in the future?  Had I already been pushing my luck by being accident free for my first 3,450 miles?  Did my accident happen so something far worse wouldn't happen when I converged on the road with the passing car and the boy on the bike at that instant in time?

I know I'm thinking too much here.  Someone even told me the other day to quit thinking about it and just put it behind me.  Let it go.

Yet it's only been 14 days.  I still have stitches in my face and I'm still in the midst of dental repair. My neck and wrist still ache.  My voice is still shaky at times.  I want my old face back.

And if there were ever a time for introspection in life, wouldn't that time be now??

A small enlightened voice in my head has been asking me this:
Even though this was a freak accident, what if this was really supposed to happen to me?

What if it happened so I would realize how many wonderful people I have in my life?  What if it happened so I would hear loud and clear from those wonderful people how much I really mean to them?  What if it happened so that I would recognize that I have more important work left to do in life before my time is over?  What if it happened so I would truly and fully appreciate all the wonderful blessings in my life, today and every day?

Those are the good what ifs.  And those are the ones that I hope will stay with me long after my wounds are healed.

A Hard Fall

This is one of those occasions when a picture is worth a thousand words.

I was totally taken down by a stick.  Out of the blue.  On a beautiful day.  On my first day out for the 2010 riding season.

I had a really hard fall.  Flat on my face. On very hard pavement.

Even though the picture says it all, I'm going to write those thousand words anyway.  I don't care if this is too detailed, too self pitying or too self indulgent. I write this for me since I don't think I can get past this thing without writing about it.  So here goes.

In less than an instant, I was profoundly unlucky and profoundly lucky.

How can that happen?  I can still barely get my head around it.

Here's what I know:  Saturday, March 6, was a beautiful, sunny day.  I'd been looking forward to dusting off my bike and getting out there for the first time since Thanksgiving morning.  My husband brought up my bike from the basement, then I spent the next hour getting myself and my bike ready.  It took longer than I expected to get out of my driveway.  Equipment and gear needed to be found, tires needed to be pumped, chain needed to be oiled and odometer needed to be reset for the year. And who can ever remember how to do that?

I consciously reminded myself to be on the lookout for potholes, sand and sticks given the wild weather we've had this wet winter season. Then I was off for an easy 11 mile loop.

I was feeling surprisingly strong despite being off my bike for exactly 100 days.  The roads were unexpectedly clear of debris. I even stopped to take a picture of my favorite roadside image:  a swamp.

I was less than two miles from home and going up the long, gradual hill that always challenges me at the end of my rides. A boy was biking up the same road as me on the opposite side. He was biking against traffic, I was biking with traffic and an oncoming car was approaching.  Given the timing, I thought it would be best to speed up and pass the boy so that the oncoming car wouldn't have to drive between two adjacent bikers on a relatively narrow and windy road.  Murphy's Law always seems to play out in these instances, where the road is completely clear. then traffic of all sorts comes out of nowhere and passes at exactly the same time.

So there I was. Clipped in, feeling strong, speeding up, facing forward in climb position.

The car approached. As the car passed, I heard a split second cracking noise.  My front tire locked instantly.  I went straight over the handlebars.  And in less than a second I was down.

It's hard to describe exactly how it felt to land face first on pavement while going 15 mph with absolutely no warning.

To say that it hurt is such a profound understatement, it's almost laughable. It was one of the most violent experiences I think anyone could ever encounter without dying.

I landed on my chin and mouth.  My top jaw went to the right; my bottom jaw went to the left.  There were missing and broken teeth, torn skin and blood.  Lots of it.  In the road, on my bike, on my florescent yellow riding jacket, on my unbroken sunglasses.  The pain was excruciating. I felt like the bottom half of my face was crushed in.

I rolled off my face and sat up in the road, stunned and disoriented. The first thing I noticed was how quiet it was.  I felt like I was in some alternate reality.  Then I looked over and saw the shocked boy stopped, staring at me, not sure whether to come over or flee.

Miraculously, I was able to stand up.  I dragged my bike out of the road, found my phone and manged to call my husband.  I remember screaming into the phone but he tells me I was relatively calm, coherent and provided all the necessary details.

I sat by the side of the road and waited for him to drive the 1.5 miles to get me.  Blood was still pouring off my face. The boy came over and handed me my thrown water bottle.  A car drove by as if nothing happened.  Another car stopped and asked if I was okay.  The woman driver turned into a side street to stay near me until my husband came.  The boy stood next to me looking like he was going into deeper shock with each passing second. I remember thanking him for his help, assuring him that my accident had nothing to do with him and then telling him he could head home.

My husband appeared and rushed over. I could barely speak but he said all the right things:  We can fix this. You'll be okay.  We're going to take you to the hospital.  We'll take care of you.

I didn't even see the stick in my front fork until he put the bike in the car.  Until that point I had no idea how I landed in the street.

We went to Lawrence General Hospital.  I was seen right away.  Examined, X rayed, stitched up and sent home four hours later to recover.  Shockingly, I broke no bones. Not my neck, not my jaw, not any of the bones in my right cheek, not even my bruised and swollen right wrist.  I was profoundly lucky.

Driving home I remember wondering if my life would be forever changed from this.  Did this happen at the exact halfway point of my life, now to send me off in a different direction than I would have ever gone before?  I guess I can save the philosophizing for another post.

So I've shared the picture and written the thousand words.  Maybe now that it's down in print I can finally put the details of my accident behind me and focus on my recovery.  Or more accurately, my recoveries - both physically and mentally.

So here it is.... 2 months later...

I've been a total blog slacker. Here it is in late December, over two months since my last post.

What's my excuse for not writing? I guess the only honest answer is that I just didn't feel like it. For some reason, I couldn't get myself to write. I didn't think I had anything worthy to write about. And I'm questioning the whole blog thing - is it too self indulgent? Is it something I can seriously maintain with some regularity?

Such questions. But alas. One truth remains: I like to write.

Who says I always have to write on a regular schedule? Who says I always have to make it interesting? Who says I always have to be articulate? Who says - on some subconscious level - that I need to prove my Ivy League education by creating frequent, creative and insightful missives?

Who says? Well, I guess that would be me. I really need to stop this over-thinking about my under-writing. It's just total brain clutter. And it's not good for my writing.

Enough rambling. Here's some news:

I met my 2000 mile biking goal this season! I barely squeaked in the last 28 miles on Thanksgiving Day and my bike is now safely tucked away for the season.

In the interim, my 13 year old daughter and I joined a gym for the next few months to build our strength before my next biking and her soccer and lacrosse seasons start. So far, it's been really fun mother/daughter time. I've been feeling that good sore when you've really pushed the weight machines.

And surprisingly - and I can't believe I'm saying this out loud - I don't miss my bike at all. Sometimes, you just need a break. Just as I did, apparently, with my writing.

Fall Splendor

This is what it's all about. The leaves have been spectacular this year, most likely due in part to such a rainy June.

I love biking through a canopy of fall leaves when I'm out there on the road. The color, the feel, the smell - I love everything about it. Being out on the road helps ensure I enjoy this fleeting season before the leaves fall away.

What I've Been Doing on My Blog Vacation

Well I guess I dropped off the blog scene for 2 months. No updates, no pictures, no nothing. How did that happen?

All I can say is that sometimes life gets so busy that you neglect to do the things that keep you healthy and sane, like sleeping enough, eating right, exercising, connecting with friends and for me, blogging. Actually, other than biking 430 miles since my last blog post, I've done very little of the above in the last several weeks.

So what have I done since August 17?

• I actually did get up at 6 a.m. the day after my last blog post and rode my old morning route. I had forgotten what a great way to start the day that is.
• I rode the Seacoast Century again this year. The day was as fun and beautiful as last year.
• I've been doing the family thing - spent a week in Chatham, celebrated my 15th wedding anniversary, and helped get the kids settled in school and sports schedules.
• And finally, I've been grinding it out at work, putting in more hours than I should as I try to transition into yet another new role with my company.

My big push for biking right now is to log in 2000 miles this season. I have 240 more miles to go to get there. And although the finish line to this goal isn't too far away, my ability to fit in rides longer than 20 miles at a time is dwindling as we make our way through fall.

I'm going to get there, though. Because this goal - in addition to riding my very first Pan Mass Challenge - has been the main motivator to my riding this season.

Morning Inspiration

When in a lull - and, sadly, I AM in a lull - I've found it's always helpful to post a picture to inspire me.

This is at the midway point of an 18 mile morning ride I used to do regularly last summer before work. Maybe this view will motivate me to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, get out on my bike and start the day off right.

Post PMC Blues...

A funny thing has happened to me since the PMC.

I've been in a bit of a slump with my riding. My energy is low, my speed is not what it should be and my focus is a bit off.

I guess that's only natural in the days following what I would categorize as one of the top 10 most rewarding events of my life to date.

The transition back to the real world after the PMC was interesting. I was on a total high coming off the boat from Provincetown - full of memories, excitement, emotion, pride and physical exhaustion from the event.

That translated the next day to total bike brain fog. I was a complete space shot, unable to concentrate or multitask. That happens when you are in the zone with your riding, though. All that is important is the next 10 feet in front of you.

It took a full 24 hours for the fog to clear and I started feeling back to normal. I had no real physical issues to recover from, only the initial pain of getting the lactic acid out of my legs on my first ride back on my bike.

It was really just the mental recovery that I had to deal with. And that's what's slumping my riding, I'm quite sure.

I'll get my groove back soon, I'm certain. In fact, my husband just told me he was so inspired by my PMC experience that he wants to buy a bike, train with me and do the PMC next year. Now there's motivation!

Living the PMC

What can I say about my very first Pan-Mass Challenge? How can I actually describe one of the most inspirational, emotional and physically challenging experiences I've ever had?

The only thing that comes to mind is to list the thoughts and images that will stick in my mind for years to come.

• 163 miles from Wellesley to Provincetown. Two days. 10.5 hours of ride time.
• Riding with PMC veteran and friend, Sue, who helped make this experience so special.
• Sharing the road with 5000+ fellow riders and new friends, like second day riding buddy, Laurie, in the biggest athletic fundraiser in the country.
• Feeling like a hero for the weekend, with thousands and thousands of cancer survivors, family members and supporters cheering us on alongside the road.
• Seeing signs saying, "Thank you for saving my life!"
• Riding alongside pictures of the PMC Pedal Partners, children who are receiving advanced treatment at the Jimmy Fund Clinic.
• Seeing the best in humanity - people so polite and thankful, riders and bystanders looking out for each other.
• Passing a group of supporters at the wee hour of 5:30 a.m., cheering us on as we came off the Bourne bridge.
• Hearing my name yelled out while going by (forgetting that my bike was tagged with my name)
• Young and old saying, "Thank you so much for riding. Thank you so much for doing what you are doing."
• Riding with tears in my eyes and so full of emotion
• Having my daughter, her friend and her friend's mom come cheer me on.
• Hearing the cheers and shouts from what seemed like a few hundred teens from the camp in Brewster.
• Seeing the pictures on the back of riding shirts of children, husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, and other loved ones who are battling cancer or who have battled and lost.
• Getting goosebumps from the multiple bag pipe players serenading us on both days
• Feeling like Lance Armstrong in the pelaton, zooming down a hill pushing 30 mph with dozens of other riders.
• Struggling up the sweltering big hills in the dunes of Provincetown, knowing the finish line was only a few miles away.
• Hanging with my friend Drew, who inspired me to ride this event, and my former college classmate, John, who helped motivate me to actually do it.
• Running into other friends and those I didn't know I'd see.
• The fun and celebration of the party boat home - a frat party like no other with 900 new found friends
• And most importantly, the $30M (hopefully - the final numbers still aren't in yet) for cancer research and treatment.

Taking pictures of the actual ride itself was next to impossible given the dynamics of group riding. But here are some highlights at various stops along the way.

The 7:00 a.m. Wellesley start.

Me and riding buddy and 10 year PMC veteran, Sue.

With good friend Drew, a 17 year PMC veteran.

Sue checking out the ice bag chairs on day two.

Me and my daughter Erin, who actually got up early on a summer day to cheer on her mom!Friend and former classmate, John, who unknowingly sat down next to me at lunch the first day amidst 2000 riders.
Billy Starr, PMC founder and master of ceremonies, welcoming us aboard the party boat home from Ptown to Boston.The band totally rocked the boat for the three hour trip.

Getting a hero's welcome entering Boston Harbor.

Thank you so much for all who sponsored me. I couldn't have done it without you and your support!

It was such an honor and a privilege to ride and be part of something so important. It was a profound experience and the memories will live on in my mind for years to come.

In Memory and In Honor

Why am I riding in the Pan-Mass Challenge for the first time this year? What's my motivation?

I ride in memory and in honor of the following family and friends:

This is my Aunt Doris, whose life was cut short by ovarian cancer in 2005. Although we lived many miles apart, she was always my favorite aunt - so warm, loving and generous. She lives on in our hearts and memories.

I also ride in memory of friend and fellow mom Carol, who was taken too young from her family in 2007. She was a loving wife and mother and a gentle soul. Through her death, Carol taught us all about life.

Finally, I ride in honor of my friend Tim. His is a survival story. Diagnosed last year with stage III colon cancer, he is now cancer-free due to early detection and targeted treatment. His battle taught me all about resilience in the face of life's unexpected and unfair turns.

Riding the PMC is my way of supporting the fight against cancer. The challenge of riding 165 miles pales in comparison to the battle these three and so many others have faced.

But hopefully, every mile will take us closer to a cure for cancer.

Pre-PMC Stats

I like numbers. Almost too much, some would say. Here are my stats so far this season:

Total number of miles ridden: 1110

Longest ride: 70

Hours of ride time : 72+

Typical average speed: 15-16 mph

Fastest speed: 32 mph (I'm a wimp!)

Number of rides: 55

Number of dropped water bottles: 1

Number of close calls with clueless drivers: 2

Number of times I've inadvertently given myself a flat tire: 3

I hope to ride at least 900 more miles before the season ends this year, so I'm more than halfway there. Either way though, I feel physically strong and mentally ready for the PMC this weekend.

Final Push

Yesterday I did my last big training ride before the PMC. I rode in the Cycle for Shelter which supports Emmaus, Inc, a non-profit organization providing housing and services to the homeless in Haverhill. I rode in this event last year and really enjoyed it.

My initial plan was to ride the 100 mile course with a friend. But ultimately, given a variety of circumstances, I wound up solo riding "just" 62 miles, or a 100 km.

It was a beautiful course up into NH and along the coast of Hampton, Rye and inland towards Exeter. Here's one shot I took along Rt. 1A in North Hampton, which I was rode on just a few short weeks ago.

Initially, I thought I'd be dealing with thunderstorms given the forecast. Thankfully, the course successfully dodged them but it turned out to be an absolutely sweltering day as you can see from the haze.

I had a great ride but came to the realization that any solo ride over 60-70 miles is too long. I like company for these big efforts! Thankfully, I'll have plenty of company to look forward to this coming weekend at the PMC.

Hitting 1000

This past weekend I passed the 1000 mile mark. That was my mileage goal to get to the PMC and I'm happy to report I met it 2 weeks early.

My plan is to reach 2000 by the end of the season. Hopefully continued motivation, strong legs and good weather will help pull me through.

Swamped

What can I say? I just like swamps.

Solo 70 Miler along the Coast

In keeping with the ocean theme I have going, yesterday I did something totally fun. I took the day off from work and instead of sleeping late, relaxing and puttering around the house, I went for a 70 mile bike ride up and down the New Hampshire and Maine coastline under glorious blue skies all by myself.

I thought I might have had a riding buddy or two but when that didn't pan out, I started teetering about if I should go or not. I mean really, what was I thinking? But thankfully, I got myself up and out the door by 7:00 a.m. before I could fully talk myself out of it.

Basically my ride was this: I parked at Hampton Beach, hopped on my bike and rode up the coast 35 miles and back to the beautiful Nubble Lighthouse in York Beach, Maine. This particular route was a leg of the Seacoast Century I did last September and I was looking forward to trying it again.

The route took me through Hampton, North Hampton, Rye, Portsmouth, Kittery, ME, and York. And although it was generally a flat route, it still had its share of challenges: dodging open car doors and pedestrians near the beaches, crossing metal grated bridges, navigating (and getting slightly lost on) the streets of downtown Portsmouth, and some strong cross and head winds to contend with on the way back. There was even a roundabout thrown in for good measure and multiple open ice cream stands, which I successfully managed to bypass (though I would have been SO there if the lines weren't so long).

Overall, it was a beautiful ride on a beautiful day and I'm so glad I pushed myself out the door to do it. Here are a few more pictures from the route. The above shot is from York Beach looking out at Nubble Lighthouse in the distance.

Total ride time: just over 4.5 hours. I'll be doing this route again during the century in September and I'm looking forward to having some company - and maybe some ice cream - next time.

Oceanside Eye Candy

This image I spotted in Newburyport while biking made me stop and turn around. Ahh...the sites and smells of the ocean.

PMC - 3 Weeks and Counting....

I can't believe it. Just three weeks from today I will be in Bourne celebrating after riding the first day of the PMC.

Time has really flown by this biking season though I'm not sure why. The weather has been the pits - long stretches of rain and the coldest temperatures recorded in 103 years. But that hasn't stopped me from getting out there on my bike to train! Well, actually it has at times, but I am making good progress. And just in the past two weeks alone I've managed to get in over 230 miles.

Just back from a 57 mile solo ride up to Newburyport today. Had a quick visit with a friend and made a pit stop at Plum Island to check out the beach. What a gorgeous day.

Somehow on my way home I missed the turn I wanted to take so this added a few extra miles. Getting lost seems to be a theme for me this year. More on that later.

For now, I'm going to put up my weary feet and settle in for a nice glass of wine.

PMC - 58 Days and Counting...

I've been really lax about updating my blog lately.  I just can't seem to fit in in. 

Thankfully, though, I've been out on my bike training for the PMC, which is the most important thing.  Especially given that it's just 58 short days away.

To date this season, I've ridden 515 miles over 29 rides.  My average ride is under 20 miles - shorter than last season but at least I'm getting out on my bike more frequently.  

Some short term goals: 

• Pick up the pace in terms of mileage and do at least 60-80 miles per week going forward
  
• Do a few significant back to back rides so that getting up and out on my bike at 5:30 a.m. for a second 80 mile day won't be a total shock to my body
• Learn some basic bike maintenance so I won't feel so inept if my tire goes flat or my chain continues to squeak
• And one last one just for grins.... my perpetual goal to lose just 5 more pounds.....

Capture the Moment

So you might be asking... why do you have a picture of dead daffodils on your blog page?

It's actually quite clear.  Sometimes the simplest of images convey the most powerful of truths.

These are the same flowers as those pictured in my preceding post, but just one week later.  Beautiful flowers one day, dead flowers just 7 days later.  I was so glad I had actually paid attention enough to stop and enjoy them in all their beauty the first time I went by, since only a week later they were gone.

This happens a lot in life.  Every day we are presented with opportunities to enjoy the beauty of nature, a connection with someone, a chance to learn something new or to see things differently.  Sometimes these opportunities are obvious, sometimes they are subtle.

But if you pay attention, if you stop and pause, if you take that chance and say what's in your heart, if you turn back to take the picture, you'll capture that moment.  And a day, a week, a month, a year later, you might just be glad you did.

Spring into Summer

Well, for all the complaining I did about how long the winter was, last weekend we seemed to bypass spring altogether and jump right into summer.  Temps were in the 80s - perfect training weather for the PMC, which is smack dab in the middle of the high heat of summer. I love it.

Here's evidence that the winter has finally left us.  Now the roadside view gets more interesting and colorful.

100 Days and Counting....

The Pan Mass Challenge is exactly 100 days away!!   

And speaking of 100, I finished the second 100 miles in my training.  Thankfully, it was easier than the first.

Kickin' Butt

My butt, that is...  This past weekend I got out for two back to back power rides - 40 miles on Saturday and just under 30 on Sunday.  

I had my first of the season wind-free day on Saturday, taking a nice rural route through North Andover, Boxford, Topsfield, Hamilton, Ipswich and back. What a pleasure.  Here's a picture of the church in Topsfield Center.

On Sunday I went out and back to Byfield to watch my son's lacrosse game.  The route back takes me up one of the biggest monster hills in the area. It almost sucked the life out of me as I tried to maintain a speed of at least 5 mph so I wouldn't fall off my bike.  Thankfully, I made it and was rewarded with a 31 mph sprint down the backside. But clearly I need more uphill work.

I hope to eventually work up to 7 - 9 hours per week as the spring progresses and we move into summer.  This weekend I was on the bike almost 5 hours, so I'll be in good shape if I can repeat this formula in addition to some lighter weekday rides.

PMC Freshman Orientation

Last week I attended the Pan Mass Challenge "Freshman Orientation".  This event was planned for newbies like me to learn all about the PMC.  

Founder Billy Starr kicked off the presentation and was followed by enthusiastic speakers on things like fundraising, training, safety, nutrition, logistics, and anything else you'd want to know if you were doing this event for the first time.  It was very informative and I'm so glad I went.

The highlight of the night for me was seeing the videos about why the PMC was started, why people do it, and the impact it has made in people's lives. I'm not embarrassed to say that I was openly weeping during certain clips.

I knew I was in for a big physical challenge when I signed up for this. I also knew I was supporting a great cause. 

But I had no idea of how being a part of something this big - this huge - might affect me.  I think I got a glimpse of it as I was watching the videos, wiping my eyes.  Now I can't wait to live it.

A Swamp Thing

Ah, another swamp picture.  

I never really had a thing for swamps before I started riding.  But I sure seem to take a lot of pictures of them.  

I don't know why that is. Maybe I just happen to pass a lot of swamps on my rides.  Or maybe there are just a lot of swamps out there.

Whatever the reason, they always catch my eye and give me a few moments of quiet tranquility.

The First 100

I've got the first 100 miles of training under my belt and all I have to say is this: Boy, was I out of shape!

These initial miles have felt so hard. I'd like to say it is because I've chosen hilly routes on excessively raw and windy days (which I think I have). But unfortunately, I think it's simply because I'm out of biking shape.

Why is it that it takes so long to build, but then falls off so fast? That's just not right. Plus, it seems that being in shape in other ways, like through running or walking regularly, doesn't really do much in the bike shape department.

All I know is this can't have anything to do with getting older, right?

The only choice here, though, is to get my butt back out there regulary and keep pushing forward. And just maybe, the second 100 won't be as hard as the first.

The Memory of Winter

I complained a lot about the cold this winter.  But occassionally I did stop to appreciate its quiet serenity, like this roadside scene from my first ride of the season last month.  

My blog as a "word cloud"

I saw this on my friend John's blog and thought it was so cool.  Wordle is a free service that automatically creates "word clouds" from words in a list, a web page or a blog.  The words that are bigger are those that occur more frequently in the list or blog.

Here is a Wordle of my blog. 

 Check it out larger by clicking here.

The 2009 Training Season has Begun!

Okay, enough dilly dallying and lollygagging. It's finally bike season!

It can't come soon enough for me. This winter was long, cold, icy and pretty depressing at times.  But all that is behind us now and we finally have clear roads and the promise of sunny skies, warmer temps and flowering trees to look forward to.

I've been out four times this season so far - 10, 11, 20 and 32.5 miles respectively. The latter I did yesterday and I actually woke up at 4:30 a.m. with very sore leg muscles, from my ankles to my butt.  I think I may have been a little overly ambitious but that kind of sore is a good thing and I actually welcome the pain. It's time to shed that winter layer!

The plan for me this year is to ride at least 2000 miles (which is roughly 60 miles per week). I'm also committed to three organized rides this summer:

1. Pan Mass Challenge (163 miles)
   
2. Cycle for Shelter (100 miles)
3. Seacoast Century (100 miles - a repeat of my first century from last year)

I've also decided I'm just going to focus on getting the miles in, whether that be in several little bursts (like lunchtime) or longer stretches on weekends.  I'm also not going to harp on my speed (or lack thereof).  I'm just going to get out there and ride.

So stay tuned!  More biking adventures to follow... 

PMC - I'm In!

Okay, here's some news. Today I signed up to ride the Pan Mass Challenge in August!

I'll be riding the two day course from Wellesley to Provincetown with my friend Sue. I wasn't sure about doing this ride last month, as I mentioned in a previous post. But the pull to do it was too strong to resist.

So now I'm committed. I can't wait to be part of this special event to support such a great cause.

Dry Spell

Okay, I think it's obvious I'm going through a little dry spell here.  

Not much blog material of late since there's been no biking, no running, no concerts and no exciting adventures to write about.  I think I've also got an unintentional winter hibernation thing going during these icy, cold, dark January days.

When I've got something fun or interesting to share, I'll be sure to write about it. Until then, bring on spring!!

Winter Undying

Here it is the day after yet another big snowstorm in New England.  

This peaceful view is from our back porch overlooking our small pet cemetery where Reggie the cat, Rosie the hamster and Bubbles the cockatiel have all been laid to rest.  Quite a serene spot, especially in the winter.

New Year Vision

Because I read too many Oprah magazines during my vacation .... and because I had too much time on my hands.... and because I recently stumbled upon the quote, "If you don't know where you are going, any road will take you there," I decided to take my goal setting very seriously for the new year. 

So seriously, in fact, that over vacation I actually created a poster size visual depiction of my goals with themes and pictures and it's now framed and located above the computer I'm typing from right now.

I know. At some level this is laughable.  But I love this kind of stuff. It appeals to my undeniable need for order and organization in my life.  And it also gives me the illusion of control.  

So here I have my 2009 "vision board", a work of art (to use the phrase loosely) depicting my hopes and dreams for 2009.  

The themes of my goals are relatively generic and simple and shared by most.  The thing that is so powerful, though, is seeing a visual depiction  - rather than a written list - of those goals. It's really quite empowering, actually.

Fitness is one of my main themes, not suprisingly, and I'm planning some big things in 2009 to take my biking to the next level.  

One of which is a 2000 mile goal for the year.  I rode 1430 in 2008, but I started a bit late in mid May and it took a while to build up my weekly mileage.  Maybe since I stated this goal out loud, it will now be as achievable as my first century. 

It remains to be seen whether my vision board will be effective or not. But I'm hoping that by seeing a graphical depiction of my goals on a regular basis, it will help make my vision for my life a reality in 2009.

Speaking of vacations...

I mentioned in my last post that one of the things I did during my "staycation" was to book the next real family vacation for April.  We were excited to head back to the Florida Keys to the beautiful Cheeca Lodge, where we enjoyed several days last April.  I posted a few pictures from the area here last month.

Well how freaky is this? The day after I booked our vacation I found out the Cheeca had a major fire on New Year's Eve - the worst on the Keys in 20 years. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but the hotel is closed indefinitely for repairs, which are estimated to be in the millions.  How scary.  And what a huge bummer.  

So on to plan B, which we are still formulating.  One radical idea floating in our family is to forgo the family vacation altogether this year and buy a used bass boat so our son can continue his obsession and passion for fishing.  

This would be a funny turn of events given that for years, my husband and I always said we'd never buy a boat.  Never say never, as I said before. Or at least, not yet.

My Wonderful "Staycation"

I've made several references to the word "vacation" during my recent blog posts.  December has been a stressful month.  Well, more like Q4 has been a stressful quarter.  Thankfully, though, a relaxing vacation is what I finally got.  

For the price of just 4 vacation days, I hit the jackpot with almost two full weeks off from work.  From the time I walked out of the office on December 23 until the time I walk in on January 5, my work life has gone on temporary shutdown. How great is that?

So where did I go on my vacation?  Here's the best part - nowhere. I had a "staycation", which Urban Dictonary defines as "A vacation that is spent at one's home enjoying all that home and one's home environs have to offer."  And enjoy I did.

After a hectic but fun Christmas holiday, I segued into one of the most productive, relaxing and enjoyable periods of time this year. 

I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea, but here is some of the fun I had during my staycation:

• Slept almost every day until 10:00
• Had the best dreams just about every night
• Hung with my family and hung with some friends
  
• Ran and walked our dog several times
  
• Cleaned the entire house top to bottom
• Created a full year budget for 2009
• Booked our family's next real vacation in April
• Put away all the Christmas decorations and updated my Christmas binder for next year
• Drank some great vodka - Zyr and Imperia (both Vegas finds)
  
• Watched football, hockey and my new personal finance fave, Dave Ramsey
  
• Watched 5 episodes of Lost (in an effort to catch up before Season 5 starts)
• Finally finished 13 back issues of the Oprah magazine. (I think the weight of these equals the 40 pounds Oprah confessed to gaining in her latest issue)
• Made a personal "vision board" for 2009.  (I know this sounds hokey, but I love this stuff. More on this in a future blog post.)
• Organized all my digital photos for 2008
• Got a new home computer, loaded all my programs and reorganized all my data files
• Sold some furniture on Craigslist we've been meaning to sell all year
• Signed up on Facebook (not really sure why...)
• Made a home cooked meal for my immediate family (I don't like to admit this, but I typically only cook for company).
• Smiled every day

I know this all doesn't sound like it was a fun time but this was one of the best vacations I've had in a while.  And it's not over yet - I still have 3 days left! 

Clearing all the crap off my to do list and decluttering my mind and home goes a very long way in reducing my stress level.  

Just what the doctor ordered. And just how I want to start 2009.

Another pet picture

Here's our cat Joey getting in the holiday spirit.

Okay, clearly I'm running out of material... I'm crossing my fingers for an epiphany before year end.

Let It Snow...

Cassi is wondering ...what happened to my doghouse?  And when is it going to stop snowing?

Though I guess it is appropriate weather for the first official day of winter...

Mid Week Eye Candy

This has been one of those weeks where every waking hour has been spent on work. Big time bummer. So, as far as material for my blog goes, I got nothin'.

I'm learning, though, that when you've got nothin', it's time for a picture. And here's a good one. This is a shot of the beautiful hand blown glass flowers hanging in the ceiling of the Bellagio Hotel lobby in Las Vegas. I took it during a recent mini vacation as we strolled down the strip.

See, there's that word, "vacation", again...

And Another

Here's another "wish I were there" shot from the same area.
~ sigh~
Is it time for vacation yet?

Random Picture Day

Just digging through my digital photo album from 2008 in search of the perfect Christmas card picture and stumbled upon this. I took this while sipping cocktails in Islamorada, FL, during April vacation - just a few short weeks before I began my biking endeavor.

I don't know about you but I want to be here right now - especially as we approach the first snow/icy mix event of the season.

Calling it a Season

Since I like beginnings, middles and ends, I've decided I need to call an official end to my biking season for 2008.

I haven't been on my bike in 5 weeks (since November 2) for a variety of reasons - some legitimate, some not. So this weekend, my husband packed my bike safely away for the winter and I'm calling it a season.

Total miles for 2008: 1,430

It would have been nice to make it to 1,500 miles or more but I was a newbie and I didn't start until mid May. Maybe that can be one of my goals for next year.

Here's my end of season picture in the cool racing jacket that I got as a gift from our friend, Doug. I wanted to get a pic of me wearing it while I was actually biking, but it just didn't happen. Maybe next year....Until then, I'm officially switching to running for the winter. Depending on the weather and my motivation level, we'll see how it goes...

To PMC or Not To PMC

I'm referring, of course, to the Pan Mass Challenge, the massive bike riding fundraiser for the Jimmy Fund. Should I go for it next August or not?

I said in a previous post that I am a PMC rider wannabe. Sign ups are in mid January for the limited openings for first time riders. If I'm lucky and on the ball, I'll get a spot for the very popular two day ride from Wellesley to Provincetown with my friend Sue, who has ridden it several times in the past.

Biking two long rides back to back will be a challenge. But the bigger challenge, unfortunately, is the $4,200 minimum fundraising requirement. That's pretty steep, especially in this economy. And if I can't raise that amount, the balance goes on my credit card. Ouch.

Something to think about during the next month. But if I don't go for it, at least I know there are plenty of other great riding opportunities awaiting me in 2009.

Never Say Never Wish List

As a follow up to my Never Say Never post, I thought I would make another list. These are the nevers I have been known to say but are not yet proven evidence of the "never say never" principle. That is, they unfortunately still ring true.

I find this annoying. Sometimes I'd prefer if the "never say never" principle was applied uniformly and did not discriminate against certain nevers.

Perhaps the mere act of putting them in writing will stir the powers that be to invoke the "never say never" principle to my list below:

• I will never accomplish all the things on my to do list
• I will never look totally hot in a bikini
  
• I will never make too much money
  
• I will never do absolutely nothing for one whole day
  
• I will never watch all the shows I've recorded on my DVR
• I will never have to dye my hair again
• I will never write a book
  
• I will never finish reading all the books on my nightstand
• I will never be up to date with all of my photo albums

And here are a few thrown in for the benefit of my husband:

• I will never stop back seat driving
• I will never learn how to operate the power tractor
• I will never stop being right
  

There. I've said them out loud. Keep your fingers crossed. With any luck, I'll be able to report back soon with further proof that you should "never say never."

Never Say Never

File this under things I think about when I'm biking (or running or listening to music or doing nothing in particular):

The expression - "Never say Never" - has tripped me up a few times in my life. Sometimes for the good, sometimes for the not so good. But I think I'm getting wiser as the years go by. That is, I'm learning to never say never. Or at least when I do, I catch myself and try to rephrase.

Because often, you see, "never" isn't really never. As proof of my theory, here is a smattering of things I've said "never" to that really weren't never:

• I'll never drive a minivan - I've been driving one for 8 years now. Despite adding a few personal touches (as those who have seen it know), the fact remains that I still drive a minivan.
  
• I'll never get a dog - We've had a great golden retriever named Cassi in our family for the past 6+ years. Despite a very scary close call at age 9 with an unleashed, poorly trained attack dog, I actually agreed to get a dog and now go so far as to describe myself as a "dog person".
  
• I'll never go back to work full time until my kids go to college - My three year anniversary of full time employment was two days ago.
  
• I'll never be a morning person - Here's evidence to the contrary.
• I'll never be able to bike 100 miles in one day - More evidence to the contrary.
  
• I'll never eat sushi - One of my favorite restaurants is Sushi Inaka.
  
• I'll never be friends with my ex-boyfriend - I now consider him one of my oldest friends.
  
• I'll never understand statistics - I can now explain the difference between R squared and R squared adjusted in the unlikely event that anyone is interested.
• I'll never listen to KISS 108 - Not by choice, but this is one unfortunate reality of having 12 year old daughter.
  

These are the some of the nevers I'll admit to publicly that have taught me to never say never. Of course, there is a whole host of nevers that I'll never admit to here. Wait, let me rephase that...

Feaster Five Miler

On Thanksgiving Day, I decided to brave a crowd of over 8000 people and run the Feaster Five in Andover. I'm not really sure why I decided to do this. The idea just sort of popped into my head. Shortly thereafter, I found myself driving over to register, signing up and getting a number. Then on Thanksgiving morning, I found myself at the starting line in my running shoes in the cold with 8000 other people.

Wondering ... why did I decide to do this again?

But, you know, sometimes you have to just do these things without giving them too much thought.

No surprise, but it was a really fun time and I am so glad I did it. The people cheering on the sidelines were great and I really appreciated the few small brass bands strategically placed along the course. The event was also well organized and everyone was in a friendly and happy mood. Plus, it was an excellent workout before a big Thanksgiving meal.

I've actually done the Feaster Five before back in 1999 and 2001 - both times running the 5K. After 2001, though, I decided I wouldn't do it again (I think because of the crowds, cold and huge traffic jams).
But I'm glad I gave it another try this year. And I'm glad I went for the 5 mile route instead of the 5K. It gave me the opportunity to accomplish another "first" this year, since I've never run further than 3.2 miles in any type of organized race. It probably would have helped my time significantly had I actually trained for this event, but my pace wasn't bad for me and given the crowds.

The Feaster Five was a great way to start my Thanksgiving Day this year. Plus, the 5 mile run turned out to be a cake walk compared to the 10 hour cooking and cleaning marathon that soon followed...

Endurance Carryover

Here's a nice thing I just discovered. I think the endurance I gained from biking long distances has now carried over to running.

I tested this theory on Sunday by going out and trying to run the same route I did in my Forrest Gump Moment post. I had thought that run was a total fluke because at about 6 miles, it is 3 times longer than I typically run at any given time. (In fact, for the last few years, my "runs" could more accurately be described as a "run/walks.")

But today I ran the same exact route again without stopping. I even shaved a few minutes off my last time. And I didn't even have anything to run from like I did last weekend (a boatload of work). Granted, I only have two data points to prove this theory but it's looking pretty promising.

Biking and running use such different muscles but it's nice to know that the endurance may have carried over. One more thing for me to add to the growing list of the side benefits of biking.