A introspective century

Buena Vista to Glenwood Springs.  103 miles through Colorado's Rocky Mountains. No doubt to be a long, enjoyable day; full off pain, adrenaline, endorphins, camaraderie, tired legs, light headedness, doubts, sense of accomplishment, and maybe a little dehydration.  Not necessarily in that order.

On a brisk Saturday morning the 25 or so riders chatted and emotionally prepared for the ride in the Best Western parking lot.  Meeting, re acquainting, and a few of us secretly wondering, "what have I gotten myself into"?
Nobody seemed to want to take off first so when finally ones did, I followed close behind.  This impatience, unfortunately caught me in a fast moving lead pack.   I'd repeatedly told myself that this year, I would ride "my ride", and not try to keep pace with superior cyclists.  Apparently the testosterone running through your system wakes up before your brain. Because there I was in the middle of a quick moving group fighting the wind and hills at a swift pace.  Fortunately my early morning digestive system is much less fanciful and more of a realist.  About 30 minutes into the ride, I pulled to the side of the road, stepped off my bicycle, and casually vomited the neon red sport drink I'd been sipping on that morning.

For those of you exerting yourself physically to the point of nausea and are fighting it.  Here is my advice, just let it go.  Yes, I was a new man.  Also I was able to get my head back on, and just enjoy the ride . . .  my ride.

So I continued to pedal, up and down the hills of Highway 24 and eventually Highway 82, in sort of a thoughtful, meditative state for the next 30 miles or so.  Not going fast, but enjoying the scenery and the experience immensely.  Looking back I'm somewhat envious of that person.

With such subtlety it crept in, at first I barely noticed it.  But there was the familiar dull ache on the outside of my knee.  I pedaled through, hoping it would go away.  I took medicine, massaged it, stretched it, rubbed numbing lotion on it.  But still any pedaling was accompanied by increasing pain. Regularly stopping to stretch, saw but a small, momentary bit of relief.  Finally I knew I wouldn't make it to the top of Independence pass, so I got in my SAG wagon of shame and rode to the top.  Demoralized I avoided being in pictures with the other cyclists, and sat and iced my knee.
But hey, it's all down hill from here right!  Unable to sit idle any longer, I pulled off the wrapping, got rid of the ice, and rode down the pass.  Incredible!  The downhill was amazing, unfortunately it was the last bit of riding I was able to do on my bike, on this day.

It was disappointing to not be able to finish, it seemed like a fun ride.  I wanted to be on my bike.
Yes, on the inside I pouted a bit.  Yet, due to the fine company, beautiful scenery, and perhaps the generous amounts of ibuprofen I still enjoyed the whole experience, it was just a different experience then expected.

Thus is life I suppose.  We're always saying it's the journey, not the destination which is important. True, But even then it seems we have a specific journey in mind.  And straying off that course, can really freak our system out.  Causing us to focus more on how much fun, how much more success, how much more or less whatever, everyone else is having and deny ourselves the beauty and originality of our own journey.  On a journey as long as life, we'll be strong and we'll SAG, I guess the key is to keep your eyes open.  Because in both cases there is beauty all around.

For more photos from the ride check out http://teamverticallychallenged.com/ .