Sometimes it is amazing to listen to the quiet. Sometimes it is amazing to listen to the chaos. Sometimes when the chaos and the quiet collide, there is something there to be heard which is very unexpected and surprising.

The logical start to this post is to leap over missed time and introduce our incredibly capable new team. That makes sense, right? Somehow that feels like a do-over, a resurrection, like nothing has happened over the last, uhhhhhmmmm 6 years. Nothing is further from the truth. Technology has changed and altered the way we connect and communicate and as soon as one direction is understood, a new direction is discovered and we learn all over again how to stay connected and how best to communicate. Sometimes in a flurry of the new, the original ways to stay in touch are left by the side of the road. You remember when phones were actually used to make calls? Similar theory here.

RAAM 2015 starts in 5 hours!

We’re itching to get to the start line and… get going getting to the finish line! Here’s some quick reminders on how to follow the LS&G teams during the race.

Tractalis

http://www.tractalis.com/live/raam2015/html5/

This shows our most up-to-date location based on GPS tracker in the follow-vehicle. You’ll need to know our team numbers:

• T408 – Love Sweat & Gears
• T409 – Love Sweat & Gears – Tandems

They also have apps: (iPhone) (Android)

RAAM website

http://goo.gl/hwZTxt

This carries updates of our progress through the 55 Time-stations (aprx 1 every 55 miles), based on official race records. They also have a link to a map of that data. Again, use the team numbers as above.

Facebook Team page

https://www.facebook.com/lovesweatandgears

Make sure to “Like” and follow the team page. The team page will have updates on all three LS&G teams.

We’re also on twitter: https://twitter.com/LoveSweatGears

Ride Farther

http://ridefarther.com/

https://www.youtube.com/user/Raammedia

This is the official Media outlet of Race Across America, and will host twice-daily video reports (also on their youtube channel) as well as maps, written reports, photo galleries and so on. Also they’re promising a live video stream from of the teams press conference and from the starting line, 12 noon PST today!

I looked at the date of the last blog post – December, 2013 – almost exactly one year ago.  An entire year has passed by without a post.  What does that mean?  Have I stopped thinking?  Stopped doing?  Stopped writing?  Some yeses, and some no’s but no maybe’s.  Let’s talk about what has been going on with LS&G over the last year which pretty much parallels what has been going on with me at the same time.

Let’s see.  I got new glasses.  They have progressive lenses which is a nice way of saying they are bifocals only there isn’t an obvious line in the lens.  That took some getting used to.  Blurred vision, missing stairs, feeling wobbly, similar to how we all felt in June of 2014 without RAAM.  LS&G was officially approved as a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization in May of 2013.  That was a culmination of hours and hours of work and pages and pages of paperwork.  YAY!  Done!  Now, where do we go from here?  The invisible line can truly only be seen from behind the glasses and not from in front.  The first thing we did was a bike distribution with Bikes for Kids.  With our fundraising efforts in 2013, we distributed bicycles to the entire third grade in a local school. Since I was wearing my new glasses, I could see the looks on the faces of all the kids who were receiving their very first, new bikes.  The excitement and the thrill were palpable.  But I am getting ahead.  There was a set-up.  Tim Kooser, the brains behind the bikes, had all the kids write an essay entitled “How I Would Change the World to Make It a Better Place”.  The kids were told that the winner of the contest, which was judged by their teachers, would win a bike.  One winner, one bike.  The essays were as genuine and as truthful as only kids can be at 9 years of age.  After the first winner, Tim asked if maybe there should be a second. To the chanting of “one more bike!” another essay was read and another bike and helmet was awarded.  And on and on until each essay was read, each child selected their bike and helmet.  Even without my glasses I could see the fruits of our fundraising and the joy and freedom and, perhaps, a small healthy lifestyle change brought to so many.

Part of our mission as a non-profit is (simply put) to get as many people on their bikes as possible. So, in August of 2014, LS&G led a bike tour for women only.  Calling it a Mother/Daughter tour in Summit County and facilitated by the great people of HeartCycle Colorado (www.heartcycle.org), it was really a tour for all women of any age and any ability.  We had 30 women ranging in age from 17-76 years of age, many of whom had never done an extended bike ride much less a bike tour. Another line conquered and talk about fun!  So many stories to be told and photos to be shared – topic for another post.

The next line to be crossed was the assembling of our goals for 2015.  We managed to get a bunch of kids on bikes as well as a bunch of women on bikes in 2014 – where is the next line?  The second part of our mission is to facilitate and mentor people interested in endurance cycling as a healthy lifestyle.  We are proud to introduce our team of tandems who will be racing RAAM 2015 in addition to our team of women.  This group of four tandem pairs is as diverse as they can be in experience, age, and profession but all have one common interest – to race RAAM to the best of their ability and do some good along the way.  Read all about each member of the team by visiting their bios.  This enthusiastic and talented bunch of cyclists will be fundraising on behalf of The Cystic Fibrosis Foundation.  And the women?  Yet another team with new racers mixed with experience who are ready to embrace the challenge.  Read all about the women by visiting their bios as well.  The women will be racing again for Bikes for Kids with the intent of including more than one school with their efforts.

This is an overview, obviously.  Stay tuned for more posts (hopefully in less than a year) highlighting our teams and our efforts.  Kind of like my glasses, everything is progressive.  RAAMing, biking, team building, eyesight – all progressive.

And so we roll.

There is a problem with racing RAAM. Or maybe there is a problem with me racing RAAM. That problem is, for a while following the race, I think I can do just about anything. Anytime. Anywhere. Anyhow. Anything. Case in point is the Pikes Peak Hill Climb which took place about 3 weeks after crossing the finish line in Annapolis. I thought to myself “why not?” So, I was having trouble sleeping . . . so, I was having trouble walking (it didn’t hurt to ride my bike, hip flexors were frozen in the bike position) . . . so, my internal organs hadn’t completely gone back to normal functioning. I raced RAAM, I can do it all, right? Right? RIGHT?

Let’s just say that in the first, oh I don’t know, quarter mile, I was already closing in on survival mode. Although I had a pretty good start and a pretty good finish, it was not a pain-free, piece o’ cake, ride up the side of a mountain. A big, honking, above timberline type of mountain. No air up there. Nothing but sky and snow – in July. And let’s not forget about the descent. Topping out at a weensy bit over 14,000 ft, the air is pretty scarce and trying to descend after an all out effort while your vision is a bit blurred, head is a bit loopy, and freezing body parts are dropping to the side of the road, constitutes a challenge in my book. They say whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I say whatever doesn’t kill you makes you glad you are still alive.

As the rest of the summer marched on, my RAAM hangover continued. I raced my bike a couple of times, I did a couple of Aqua-bikes (all the rage for aging triathletes who have knees and hips which are begging for mercy), I worked on updating our website, I did bunches of other stuff. I also did a bit of thinking. In spite of every great achievement any of us earns, the most important thing to realize is that we are human. Mortals. Some of us have different talents swimming in our gene pool but whatever that talent might be; it doesn’t flourish without constant nurturing, constant attention, and constant effort. I am not a special human doing ordinary things. I am an ordinary human doing mostly ordinary things with an occasional really, really cool thing thrown in there for focus. What would life be without a bit of focus? Focus on dreams and on future possibilities while remembering that it is the effort and focus that brings us ordinary mortals to the finish. And often times, that finish is pretty darn sweet.

Now, we are rolling full steam into what is left of the holidays and I see January and a brand new year just around the corner, I realize that although I may not be able to do anything I want at anytime, anywhere, anyhow, I can do SOME things I want at anytime, anywhere, and anyhow with desire. RAAM was not easy so why should anything else that I really want to achieve be easy? Pikes Peak is hard; keeping a life balance is hard. It all takes effort, time after time after time. Is it worth it to feel invincible on occasion? Oh. Yes.

Two weeks ago today, we were standing sleepy-eyed in the early morning light in Annapolis, MD waiting for the 8 man team from Walter Reed Bethesda Cycling Team to cross the RAAM finish line. LS&G had rolled across the same finish line one day prior and even though we had a need for rest and uninterrupted sleep, we dragged ourselves from the first soft, warm, CLEAN bed that we had occupied in a week to watch a group of true to life heroes finish what, to us, was a huge accomplishment but was, for them, another day at the office. This team consisted of 8 veterans all of whom had some sort of war related injury from missing one limb to missing several limbs to paralysis to PTSD. When asked how they were affected by the desert heat, one hero stated “This is not the first desert I have been in.”

It seems the first question I am asked when I talk to people about RAAM is whether I will do it again. I think to answer that question; I have to answer why I did it two consecutive years in the first place. I felt that I had reached a point in life when I began to wonder if there would be anything left to discover about myself. In childhood, adolescence, college years, early adulthood, even full-out grown-upedness, I knew things were going to happen. I was evolving, life was fluid, and there were surprises. And although I am nowhere near the end of the tunnel (I don’t think), I sometimes wonder not so much where I will go from here but what is inside still lurking that will amaze me. I can say that, for me, there has not been thus far an experience even close to RAAM. Something that fully engages my soul, my body, and my mind for 24 hours a day for as long as it takes to haul my tired tush across the country. Tiredness is a given and yet, all the senses need to be sharp and tuned in. All muscles are working. All brain power is focused. All doubts are conquered. All mysteries solved (there is a rational explanation for undocumented shadowy creatures in the night). This is not even mentioning the people I met along the way this year. The 2 person team from France, The Flying Frenchies, we became Facebook friends and communicated in sort of French-ish/English with the help of Google Translate and danged if we didn’t meet in Oceanside. The Allied Forces Team, the Walter Reed Team, the Pedals, Power and Ponytails Team, the extraordinary Boethling family, George Thomas – 2 weeks post shoulder re-repair – not to mention Micky Dymond and the entire Riding the Line production team, the list goes on and on and on and – yes, on.

And our crew. Talk about amazing. Twelve selfless people concentrating on . . . . US (or, in my mind, ME)! Where is the route, where are the changes, where is the rain, the wind, the smoke, where the heck is the RV (smiling here, just so you know)? That week, for them, was spent virtually shower free, restroom free, exercise free, in a caffeinated heightened haze watching, calculating, driving, navigating, cooking, serving, emptying, smiling, and whatever else-ing. I did spy a couple of them brushing their teeth, coffee cups in hand on the side of some unnamed road – slackers. It might sound repetitive but RAAM could not be conquered without an astute and outstanding crew. None is better than ours.

So, two weeks post-RAAM and it almost feels as if the experience didn’t happen. RAAM exists in a sort of time warp. While racing, everything is focused on the race. Suddenly, it is over and time to pick up the pieces of life that had happened in my absence. The RV has been returned. I freed my garage of all the assorted RAAM crap – amazing what was stored and squished in a 32 foot RV and two vehicles. All supplies have been sorted, boxed, and stored in a corner of my basement for . . . what? For next time? What? WHAT? All that remains unclaimed are a couple of lonely hot beverage mugs and those are the proof that it did, truly happen.

Yes, I am amazed. I am amazed how much more there is inside to discover. How many people, heroes and regular folks who do heroic things (like make milkshakes to die for in some remote general store in West Virginia), there are left to meet, how many experiences are left to be shared and how great life actually is. On a bike or off. Inside and out. Let the wonderment continue to bloom, blossom and grow.

I haven’t had a cold for nearly 14 years. Not a day of illness, not a sniffle, not a cough, not nuthin. Because of that, I have not missed an illness-related training day in all that time. So, I guess you could say I was due and when it rains, in my case, it is time to start building an Ark.

I started to feel rumblings several weeks ago and began my usual routine of Vitamin C, Ying Chao, lots of tea, yadda, yadda to ward off threatening symptoms. Just when I thought I had avoided the onset, I went to spend a weekend in New York City with my 20-something year old daughter.

Let me begin by saying that I had forgotten how much WORK comes with being 20-something and how little rest one gets between episodes of socializing especially when St. Paddy’s day weekend is involved and when sleeping on an air mattress is the bed of choice. Add into that running in the cold, grey city, eating on the fly, being a little overtaxed from training, zipping through the germ encrusted filth of airports, taxis, and subways, you end up having the perfect germy tryst for the perfect storm. I got sick. I got sick in a big, big, big way.

Naively I thought I would be down for a couple of days and then bounce back as the picture of health I always brag about to everyone who cares about my health. This, unfortunately, doesn’t really involve that many humans so I brag to the dog, the TV, or mostly to the walls. I gave myself a couple of days, like any self-respecting sick-o, and then tried to launch back into training. Talk about rebound, back down, back up, and back down again. Nearly a month later, I am finally getting rid of the lingering cough and accompanying phlegm that I have produced in gargantuan amounts. It is not easy to ride your bike full tilt and suddenly be overcome with a coughing fit which shakes not only your core but the bike, the horizon, and just about every available nerve ending.

I always try to look for the bright side to most experiences and this one gave me a small, dim, point of light that I fanned and nurtured as often and as vigorously as I could manage. That small pinpoint of light gave me a sort of twisted, yet not altogether psychopathic, happiness even while suffering.

I talk to my coach about most things physically related in my life and, for the most part, he is a pretty good listener. Even if distracted, he makes me feel like he is completely tuned in and concerned. What I realized during this illness, is that he cannot handle descriptions regarding one particular bodily fluid. Phlegm. Mucus. Snot. I realized this first in an email when he begged me to spare him the intricate Technicolor descriptions of my snot production. Hmmmmm. I did it anyhow and when my enjoyment of his reaction began to fade, I resorted to personal reporting. A snot face-off, if you will. I cannot describe the joy I experienced while describing what I knew was disturbing to him (generally speaking, I would do it on a day of a particularly rigorous workout and I felt he had it coming and, so, justified) and watching the color drain from his face while his eyes would drift somewhere over my shoulder as if to focus on the clouds or the geese or something else that wasn’t me. “You should have seen what I hacked up in the pool this morning! It was HUGE! Grayish, brown, maybe a little yellow and I think there were chunks in there.” I watched with glee as his Adams Apple rose and fell rhythmically as if to choke a bodily fluid of another type back down to where it belonged. Eyes misting over, nearly crossed with the color of his face closely resembling the color of my snot. Oh man, did I enjoy that. Maybe too much. I began to run out of adjectives to use. I consulted the thesaurus for alternate ways to say viscous (sticky, gummy, slimy, gelatinous, gooey, and so on)

How long could I keep this up? Until either I got better or he stopped giving me killer workout days. Who would surrender, who would succumb, and who would fall first?

I am sure you can guess. I am back to nearly one hundred percent with only one or two coughing episodes each day but the workouts have not only continued to be challenging but have  jumped up several notches on the intensity meter. In the end, I continue to suffer and he doesn’t have to listen to snot stories anymore. Is there no justice?

Not here, not now. In Annapolis, I think, absolute justice. A snot-free justice just waiting to be earned. And the masses will say “NO, it’snot!”

Sportswomen of Colorado

Well that pretty well sums it up right there. Think I will stop while I can.

Nope, that’s not going to work either. So. On Sunday, March 10, 2013, LS&G 2012 was honored with the Swede Johnson Spirit award as presented by the Sportswomen of Colorado. This is beyond recognition, beyond an honor, beyond our fantasies. beyond words, beyond the wild blue yonder. Beyond Missy Franklin. Ok, not beyond Missy Franklin, nothing is beyond Missy Franklin, except us and that is in years only.

Every year the Sportswomen of Colorado honor the female athletes in our state who have excelled in a variety of sports. These women, for the most part, are high school to college age to slightly beyond college age phenoms who are setting NCAA records, school records, and in one notable case, Olympic records. They go faster, farther, and become stronger every year. As someone who didn’t have the benefit of participating in sports as a young(er) woman – (read pre-Title IX – look it up if you want to know the year, not telling here) listening to what these women accomplish is absolutely stunning. The emcees presented a list of their individual accomplishments in sports, and then continued on to address the scholastic accomplishments and social accomplishments of each honoree. They are Honor students, Boettcher Scholarship qualifiers, and Home Coming Queens. Astounding. And then. . . . there be us. . . . a wee bit older, not certain about the wiser, most definitely shorter and a bit grayer (some more that others). Yet, there we be. LS&G. Four women with truly no other intent than to hop on our bikes and race across the country, while hopefully kindling a spark of interest as we rolled. Who knew?

My favorite story of the evening (apologies to my daughter – stop reading now if you are) was during the registration process. As I was checking in, the wonderful volunteer looked at my 24-year-old daughter, who is lovely, tall, and every bit an athlete, and asked if she was an award recipient. Uh . . no . . . that would be the older women on her left. There was a look of astonishment that crossed the volunteer’s face which she quickly hid and welcomed me with such gusto that my stomach actually stopped flipping for a second. That alone sums up the evening. Feeling a teensy bit out-of-place and in a bit of a time warp we bravely marched single file onto the stage in front of everybody who is anybody in women’s sports in Colorado not to mention our own entourage of family and friends to accept our medals and plaques from none other than Missy Franklin. Missy Franklin, the 17-year-old who is a four-time Olympic gold medalist and currently holds the world record in the 200-meter backstroke and the American record in both the 100-meter and 200-meter backstroke, THAT Missy Franklin. She is young enough to be my daughter – bordering on granddaughter – and tall enough to walk over me without breaking stride. Both of these thoughts are pretty darn scary, to be honest. Overwhelmed by the evening? Nope. Yep.

When all was said and done, I felt sort of kinship with these young women. They are just beginning their athletic and adult lives with tons of potential. We are, in a sense, nearing the decline of our athletic lives even with our later start but are pushing and striving to achieve things we never thought were attainable at this stage of the game. I looked around and watched the families of these young women snap pictures, give out hugs, and glow with pride and realized that we too were snapping pictures, hugging each other, and our families glowed with pride. All of this taking place in a tight, precise, well orchestrated evening which ended on schedule by 8:30 pm. It was, after all, a school night.