cycling isn’t always sunshine.

My bike and I weren’t very good friends last weekend.

By the end of our century+ ride on Saturday, I’d *almost* convinced myself that the Madone’s wheels wouldn’t spin the rest of the season. It was, hands down, one of the toughest, darkest days ever on my bike.

It didn’t start out terrible. I was pumped to ride – I’d suggested we do 100 miles – and, as Nick mapped our route on MapMyRide, I enthusiastically agreed to an extra 12 miles.

As we raced down Ramsey hill and then hammered up High Bridge to start, my legs were snappy + happy. But, then we turned south. While the temp was perfect, the wind… oh, good god… the WIND. There is nothing as deflating as pedaling directly into it for 60 – yes, SIXTY – miles. By the time we got to Red Wing, our turnaround point, I was cranky and seriously debating making Nick bike home to get the car and come back for me.

What fun would that be, though, with the best part – the tailwind – to come?

And, it was glorious… 25 mph glorious… until we reached two back-to-back category four climbs on Wisconsin 35.

I’m a climber, not a sprinter, so hills usually thrill me (a hard climb in the saddle is so satisfying!). But, my wind-whipped legs didn’t welcome these monster hills. As I watched Nick get smaller and smaller ahead of me, I kept cranking, legs burning, heart pounding, sure it was the slowest ascent ever (much to my surprise, however, when I uploaded my Garmin to Strava, I took second on the first climb and a QOM on the second).

Over the next 15 miles of rollers to Prescott, two thoughts repeatedly crossed my mind:

1. I’m holding Nick back. He’s ready to ride hard, but my legs just didn’t have it in them to pedal and sustain 23 mph.
2. My hands could not get comfortable anywhere on the handlebars. Damn you, ulnar neuropathy, for numbing my entire left hand.

After a few more uneventful miles north, fighting to push all the unhappy I’d-rather-be-anywhere-but-here-in-the-saddle-maybe-I’ll-just-throw-my-bike-in-the-ditch-and-walk-home thoughts out of my mind, I told Nick to hammer. He’d been itching to ride aero for a long unbroken stretch, and I needed some time alone, at my own pace, without worrying that I was slowing him down.

So, on the outskirts of Woodbury, we split. Four somewhat mood-lifting solo miles later, there was a stop sign – and, I had no idea which way to go. Seeing a lone cyclist who vaguely looked like Nick, I turned right and followed him. Nearing an intersection two miles later, I realized it wasn’t him and that I had absolutely no idea where I was.

After a few moments of sheer terror, panicky tears and a frantic voicemail to Nick, I calmed down and googled directions home. I was just about to hop back on my bike when he called. Turns out, he went straight at the stop sign where I’d turned, so both of us backtracked and met in the middle. I’ve never been more relieved to see him (and, I was a little angry, too, that he didn’t tell me there would be a stop sign).

The final 12 miles took forever. Downtown Saint Paul never seemed to get any closer no matter how hard I pedaled. When we finally hit Selby at the cathedral, I started smiling… a less-than-stellar spin made that much sweeter knowing I did it… and already looking forward to the next ride.

A few thoughts from the ride:

• It’s fun to have a heart rate monitor again. The battery in my chest strap has been dead all summer, and I kept forgetting to get a new one. Not today… we stopped at Walgreen’s about 15 miles in, and boom… there it was, hovering around 135.
• Apply sunscreen under arm warmers, too. I didn’t and took the arm warmers off almost immediately. Hello, farmers tan.
• Holding your head up for 7.5 hours is hard. My neck hurt so bad that, for nearly all of the last 10 miles, I hung my head to give it some relief.
• It doesn’t matter how many miles you have on your legs. My first century ever – last August with Nick, just three weeks after we met… gasp! … and with just 400 miles on my legs – felt much better than this one with 2,000 miles on my legs.
• Wiggle your toes occasionally as a reminder that they’re still there and to bring feeling back.
• I’ve mastered the farmer’s blow. Classy.
• Sick as it sounds and tough as the ride was, I can absolutely imagine running 26.2 miles after biking 112. There’s an iron[wo]man in the near future.
• Not all bike rides are created equal. Some spins you sail, wind at your back, spunk in your legs. Others – just minutes in – you loathe, legs like lead, pain in each pedal stroke.
• And, finally, you can’t appreciate the amazing rides until you’ve had a really, really dark one.

For such a long ride, my nutrition + hydration were way off and definitely contributed to my crankiness.

• Breakfast: two pieces gluten-free PB + honey toast, about 350 calories(?)
• One bottle Skratch Labs raspberries, about 80 calories
• Three bottles Gatorade (blue, red and purple), about 250 calories
• Four bottles of water
• Mile 30: lime-ade Honey Stingers chews, 160 calories
• Mile 60: banana, about 100 calories
• Mile 80: Pure organic banana coconut bar, 190 calories
• Mile 113: three more Honey Stingers chews (Nick and I split this pack), about 50 calories

Estimated total calories eaten: 1,100 calories

Total calories burned (per my Garmin): 3,144… does that seem off? It’s way higher when my heart rate monitor doesn’t work.

Bike stats: 116.03 miles, 7:20:32.

See our ride on Strava.