America’s second Most Beautiful Bike Ride: Monterey Bay

We <3 Monterey!

When I found out that this weekend’s Buddy Ride was going to be in Monterey, I was stoked. When I was little, my mom and I went to Monterey every Memorial Day weekend. More often than not, we brought my best friend Lyndsey for a fun-filled weekend of candy apples, rollerblading, and of course, the Aquarium. Knowing that I would be traveling the same path that I once rollerbladed as a youngin, I knew it was bound to be a great ride.

As always, I woke-up early (5am!) to ensure plenty of time to travel down to Monterey, and pick Emily up along the way. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Monterey area, it is one of the most beautiful spots in Northern California. That being said, Monterey is typically foggy and a bit chilly. But not today! Out of all the years we’ve visited Monterey, I have never seen such perfect weather—someone was definitely looking out for us that day (perhaps all of those loved ones who lost their battle with cancer were smiling down on us? Thanks guys!!)

Being a buddy ride, we do not ride with our training group and there are no supported rest stops. Both Karen and Rae were unable to make the ride, so Emily and I were left to our own devices in Monterey. Have I mentioned that neither of us is great with directions? Well, the route seemed simple: Out to Carmel and back. Our only instructions? Keep the ocean on the right on the way out and on your left on the way back. Sounds simple enough.

We all started in a big group and then quickly divided based on our speed. Needless to say, Emily and I were a ride group of two that day. While our previous Half Moon Bay ride was on the coast, the 25-30 mph headwinds and grueling hills distracted me from the views.

I could continue writing about how beautiful, serene, and inspiring this ride was, but my descriptions could not do it justice. Below are a few highlights form the ride, followed by some pretty amazing photos we snapped along the way:

• While we were riding through Pebble Beach, other bikers waived to us. At this point I yelled to Emily, “We’ve made it, Emily! People actually think we’re real cyclists! They’re waiving to us!”
• My max speed was 23.2 mph! A big jump from the previous Half Moon Bay ride!
• We got lost, took some photos at a bus stop, and turned around.
• We were yelled at for cycling the wrong way on a one way street...oops
• We rode a strong 48 miles on our own! Go us!

Gorgeous View #1

Oh hey! I like riding my bike along the beach :)

Endurance cyclist and amateur photographer

Look at me! I'm super bright!

Where are we? Did we take a wrong turn?

This bus stop looks like a nice place to rest!

Tahoe has some tough competition! 

Check out our route and stats here: http://connect.garmin.com/player/166191438

Please take a moment to visit my fundraising page and consider donating to help CURE Cancer: http://pages.teamintraining.org/sj/ambbr12/kabbottlix

Team Ride 3: Half Moon Bay and Full Blown Headwinds (49 miles)

I had been hearing about the Half Moon Bay training ride well before I officially joined Team In Training. I guess you could say training in the Bay Area has some of the best perks—gorgeous scenery, challenging terrain, and pretty great weather most of the year. Or so I thought...

While heading down to Half Moon Bay I was admiring the great views and couldn’t help but notice the incredibly steep hills and incredibly choppy ocean. Huh. Choppy water? That must mean...wind! To be honest, until this point I had welcomed headwinds as they help slow my descents. But this water was really, really choppy. Like 25-30 mph choppy...oh dear.

We met our ride group and after a bit of Rah Rah Go Team and last minute clipless pedal pointers (it was Emily’s first ride with the pedals too), we were off. Our regular coaches, Phill and Scott were unable to ride with our group, so we cycled with a wonderful substitute coach, Don, and our chapter’s head coach, Tom.

As we pulled out of the parking lot, our team started pacelining immediately. Luckily, the stops and starts were few and far between, so I didn’t have to worry too much about the new pedals. We rode as a group for eight miles before our first climb of the day. While the climb wasn’t too bad, most of us hadn’t been on our bikes for two weeks, so we needed to get our climbing groove back.

After our team reached the top, we hopped back on our bikes and pedaled our way to the next challenge: a major descent. Luckily, our substitute coach, Don, stayed behind with me to give me a few more pointers about descending. We practiced good techniques for carving the sharp turns in the road (putting the outside foot down; looking ahead instead of straight down at the ground you don’t want to hit with your face) and different breaking techniques (more feathering, less death grip). At the end of the descent, we had our first TNT supported rest stop (a.k.a. delicious snacks provided by our lovely volunteers) and were off again.

The rest of the ride is somewhat of a blur. We had three incredibly tough climbs for a total of 3,000+ vertical feet by the end of the ride. And of course equivalent descents. Not only was this ride incredibly physically demanding, the mental challenge of sticking with it and not giving up made it that much more of a test.

Our rides had gone from very little climbing to this beast of a ride that pushed my moxie big time. At one point, I was literally breaking down these “hills” into 20 foot segments, convincing myself that I could make it to that next shrub, and then that mile marker, and then that beer can on the side of the road. To date, this was the second most physically challenging thing I have ever done (to give a little more perspective, the first was completing the Chicago Marathon in 2004 without training—thanks Corey!).

Aside from the grueling hills, we were facing 25-30 mph headwinds—or more like side winds. Not only was I convincing my legs to keep pedaling, I felt like the wind was literally going to pick-up my bike and toss it wherever it pleased (I am now a little more empathetic to Dorothy’s story in the Wizard of Oz). It’s a terrible feeling. At some portions of our ride, we were literally going 8 mph on flat roads at our best efforts. 

I got back to the parking lot, 49 miles and 7.5 hours later, feeling completely defeated and incredibly exhausted. After high-fiving my teammates, driving back to San Francisco, spending a few painful hours on the couch, I reached what some call, “the bottom of the barrel”.

All it took to revive my spirits was a late night call to Joe, in tears (me, not him), questioning my ability to complete the season and the 100 miles in Tahoe. He simply said, “You’re doing this for your dad. That will allow you to persevere!” And he was right. No matter how challenging this ride was, or the future rides will be, I have to remind myself that the challenges that cancer patients face are far scarier and far more exhausting than any of the work I’ll do on my bike this season.

My mom also reminded me that a very challenging 49-mile ride was something to be proud of and at some point I would look back on it and see how far I’ve come as a cyclist. Ohhh Moms! They really are the best!

Looking back, while this was definitely a ride that pushed my limits both physically and mentally, I know it made me a stronger rider and has connected me even further to TNT’s cause. If training for a 100 mile ride in Tahoe were easy, I wouldn't be learning so much about myself and my teammates--nor would I burn 1,900 calories on any given Sunday. Plus, we take a pretty darn good picture after cycling our little legs off:

GO TEAM!

Please take a moment to visit my fundraising page and consider donating to help CURE Cancer: http://pages.teamintraining.org/sj/ambbr12/kabbottlix

The Clipless Wonder...Almost

As the week started to wind down, I found myself feeling a little nervous about the upcoming ride in Half Moon Bay. I hadn’t been on my bike since in two weeks due to rain, rain, and yep, more rain. Additionally, our ride was scheduled for Sunday instead of the normal Saturday, which gave me one more day to dwell on this uneasy feeling. Oh and did I mention that this was my first ride with my clipless pedals?! I think I just found the true cause of my anxiety!

For those of you who are not familiar with clipless pedals, they allow riders to make the best use of their leg power by physically attaching your feet to your pedals.

Random Internet Foot--not actually mine

Where do I even start? The term “clipless” is completely counterintuitive, which starts me off on the wrong foot with these things from the get-go. The idea of being attached to my bike goes against every fiber of my being. So here I am, Friday evening, getting a lesson from the bike shop guy on how to survive.

I had been practicing clipping in and unclipping during my spin classes at the gym, so I felt a little confidant, but that’s not saying much since it’s nearly impossible to fall off of those stationary bikes. The bike shop guy spent plenty of time with me going over tips, tricks, and frequently asked questions of clipless pedals. In the process, he also sold me a Garmen GPS for my bike and a heart rate monitor. And of course the new pedals and some electrolyte drink tablets (ok—these were seriously necessary; all other items took very little convincing. I’m a sucker). I did manage, however, to buy some pretty sweet road shoes for 75% off a couple of weeks earlier. $32 shoes? I’ll take it! (pictured below).

Saturday morning, I woke up early (before the looming rain) to practice using my new pedals and shoes. Mind you, I live in the middle of San Francisco, so finding a flat, grassy place for me to practice clipping in and out (a.k.a. falling off my bike without breaking any bones) is slightly challenging. 

Feeling overly confident, I decided I would bundle up and head to a pedestrian walkway behind my apartment. A concrete pedestrian walkway...just as I was ready to go—shoes, gloves, and of course helmet in place—it started to rain and I was forced to move my practice session inside...to my parking garage. Luckily, it was still early enough on a Saturday morning that most residents were still sleeping. I stopped, started, clipped in, and clipped out with enough success to give me some confidence heading into Sunday’s ride. Still looking a bit like a newborn animal learning to walk, but semi-confident none the less.

Please take a moment to visit my fundraising page and consider donating to help CURE Cancer: http://pages.teamintraining.org/sj/ambbr12/kabbottlix

Team Ride 2: Not So Naked Bike Ride (32.5 miles)

Those of you from the Bay Area may be familiar with the Naked Bike Ride. The name of this ride leaves little to the imagination as it is just tat—a naked bike ride. Apparently it’s a large group of folks who feel the need to protest fossil fuels by cycling through the streets of San Francisco. Naked. I was going to post a link to the website for educational purposes, but then became very disappointed in myself that I would even consider Googling “Naked Bike Ride”. I’m sure you can imagine the detailed search results. If not, I encourage you to look it-up yourself. This is a cycling blog about curing cancer—and nothing more J

As the very wet and wild workweek rolled on, the weather forecast for our Saturday ride looked grim at best. Now this weather caused me some anxiety. Not only does it require courage for me to ride in normal conditions, but also the thought of riding in rain does not appeal to me one bit. 

Come Friday evening, emails were being shot out quicker than a Tim Lincecum fastball detailing all of the “extras” we would need to ensure a safe and dry ride. Fantastic! Not only have I spent more than enough on this new hobby already, I am now expected to accessorize my bike and myself to accommodate riding in the frigid rain. And I'm not talking about the Louis Vuitton type of accessorizing. 

Below is a list of items that were suggested for the ride:

• Waterproof jacket (makes sense)
• Full finger gloves (yep, definitely makes sense)
• Bike fender to prevent spraying others (I guess I’ll be considerate)
• Second water bottle cage (Well, I can’t even get one water bottle out of it’s cage while riding, so what’s the second one going to be worth?)
• Second water bottle (see above)
• Under seat “bike wedge” (think bike purse for bike purse things listed below)
• Spare tube (where's AAA to change my tire?)
• Small tire pump (again, AAA is important)
• Showercap (to keep head dry. Huh!?)
• Ziplock bags (to keep feet dry. What?!)
• Ducktape to secure said Ziolock bags on feet (No way!)

Okay—line drawn. If I’m taping plastic bags on my feet, I’m staying home.

So after a night of tossing and turning, watching the rain pour and pour and pour, and convincing myself that I shouldn’t even drive down to the ride, I found myself in the parking lot of Los Gatos high with all of the other TNT riders in time to depart for a damp, chilly ride. This is where the not-so-naked part comes in. Not only was my bike decked out with all of my new (forced) purchases, but I was also sporting more clothing than I ever did during a night game at Candlestick (Yeah! It was that cold).

We also found that two of the riders on our team could not make it to this ride. Emily and I were looking forward to a one-on-one coaching experience when we learned that we would be riding with two additional coaches—Dan and Kelly—and of course, the head coach, Tom. This turned our small ride group into a 7-person paceline with Emily and I being the slowest and least experienced of the bunch. After hearing an inspiring story from another cancer survivor, and the “don’t cross over the white line or else you’ll eat it” speech, we were off in hopes of beating the looming black clouds.

This was a nicely paced ride—Emily and I did just fine “keeping-up” with the fun veterans (more like they probably slowed down a bit for us newbies). While the hills were few and far between, the storm was kind enough to dump Mother Nature’s Junk (Sticks. Really big sticks, leaves, dirt, etc.) in the bike lane. For 32 miles. I’m not sure if it was the weather, but this was a fairly quiet ride and my energy seemed a bit lower than usual. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way that if you fail to eat before you are hungry and drink before you are thirsty, energy is something that is difficult to regain. I made it to the rest stop (16 miles) before eating a snack, had zero energy and numb fingers from my new gloves. And I was freezing despite my attempt at non-nakedness.

We only stopped for a few minutes and were on our way. I was at the back of the pace line thinking to myself, “wow, I’m cold, I have no energy, and I haven’t learned much this ride”. And that’s when it happened! I reached down, grabbed my water bottle, took a sip, took another sip, and successfully returned it back to its cage all while riding! (note: last time I attempted to do this, I had to give my water bottle to Joe while we were riding down the Embarcadero because I was too scared and unstable to return it to its proper home.) 

If this was a movie, Space Jam’s I Believe I Can Fly would be playing in the background and I’d be riding in slow motion pumping my fists in the air like a champion. It’s the small victories in life that bring such great pleasure to such a new cyclist.

We returned to our cars before the rain, solidly frozen, and ready to clean our very muddy bikes. I drove to Petaluma that night and by the time I got my bike out of the car, I realized I had a flat back tire. Ugh! The worst kind of flat!

Let this be a lesson—when you think you haven’t learned anything, think harder before actually admitting it. Or else you’ll find yourself at the local bike shop early the next morning learning how to change your back tire from the hung-over shopkeeper.

But seriously, this ride was a lesson in appreciating the small things. Not only did I safely drink out of my water bottle while riding (very important to staying hydrated!), I hung in there with a faster ride group and completed my longest ride to date. I often feel that it requires a truly difficult situation for people to appreciate life's little wonders. Taking a cue from all of the cancer warriors I know, life always gives you something to learn. You just have to be willing to see it.

GO TEAM!

Please take a moment to visit my fundraising page and consider donating to help CURE Cancer: http://pages.teamintraining.org/sj/ambbr12/kabbottlix

Welcome!

Welcome to my Cycling Blog, "Stories from the Bike"!

The idea behind this site is to share my journey while training for and completing Americas Most Beautiful Bike Ride (100 miles!) with The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s (LLS) Team In Training.

While my blog currently needs a face lift, you can check-out my fundraising page for more information on my purpose behind joining TNT to help beat cancer and to donate to the cause: http://pages.teamintraining.org/sj/ambbr12/kabbottlix 

To date, Team In Training has raised over $1.2 billion to fund lifesaving research and improve the quality of life for cancer patients and their families! While the focus of the Team In Training is to raise funds for blood cancers, many of the treatments discovered through LLS-funded research can be used to treat many other cancers as well!

I will be riding in memory of my dad, who lost his battle with cancer 22 years ago, in honor of my cousin Matt (a cancer survivor and now an avid cyclist!), and for many others who have lost their battle with cancer, are currently fighting cancer, and are cancer survivors!


Thank you for visiting! I promise to provide inspiring and entertaining posts!


GO TEAM!

Team Ride 1: Faster Uphill than Down (25 miles)

This was the first ride where we broke into our smaller training groups. We have a lovely little team of 4 women, including myself, and two coaches – Phil (a cancer survivor!) and Scott. The purpose of breaking into these smaller, similarly paced teams is to train with others who ride at the same speed. Our coaches provide tips, tricks, and feedback about our riding habits—better to break the bad ones now, rather than taking them to Tahoe with us!—and some pretty awesome inspiration and support. 

Today, we had our usual large team send-off and then met the follow cyclists we will be riding with...or behind...for the rest of the season. As I mentioned before, we have four great women in our group—Rae, Karen, Emily, and myself. While we’re all from different walks of life, generations, and cycling experience, we do share a similar “newness” to the endurance cycling world.

Once our coaches gave us an overview of the ride (25 miles!), they explained that we would be practicing our pacelining. Just what is a paceline and why is it beneficial?  Think Lance Armstrong. Think Tour de France. Think much, much slower.

A paceline is when everyone lines up behind the first rider, who maintains a constant speed. A rotation occurs when the front rider pulls off to the side and drifts to the back of the line. The next rider then tales the lead at the same pace. Riders stay on the front from a few seconds to several minutes and the benefit comes with sharing the work. Especially in the wind.

We also learned how to communicate with one another while riding. Since we should never be riding side-by-side, unless someone is rotating to the back of the paceline, and we’re riding so close together, the “head” of the paceline serves as the eyes of the group. It’s this person’s responsibility to notify the rest of the group of what’s going on ahead. For instance, if there’s a yellow light, or stop sign, the first person in the paceline will yell, “slowing” or “stopping!” so the others know to do the same. The message then travels backwards through the paceline (think a simple game of telephone). We also communicate when there is something in the road that may be blocking a clear path (i.e. sticks, gravel, and worst of all glass).

Now, there are also hand signals that accompany this communication that more “advanced” riders will use. I, however, look like a baby fawn just learning how to walk when I attempt to take one hand off of my handlebars. This is the one time in my life when I can say being a former cheerleader really comes in handy. While I am not yet able to remove make these hand signals while riding, I sure can communicate loudly and clearly enough for the entire paceline to hear. 

While this ride taught me how to paceline and how to be the eyes for our group and trust the eyes of those in front of mine, I also learned that I am slower downhill than uphill. What?!

I know what you’re thinking. How is this even possible?! Well, I assure you, friends, it is possible and I am a rarity. As mentioned in a previous post, I struggle with the idea of potentially loosing control of my bike, skidding across the road, and lying in the street just waiting for a car to run over my limp body. Okay—that’s probably a little dramatic, but I do have some serious trepidation when it comes to going downhill fast. Luckily, we climb and descend at our own pace—there’s never any pressure to go faster than your comfort zone allows—except the fact that we wait for our teammates at the top and bottom of every hill. And I hate being last. So maybe there is some pressure.

Luckily, one of our coaches hung back with me today and taught me some tricks to help while descending. Since I do not feel comfortable peddling downhill yet, putting a majority of my weight in my pedals helps stabilize my bike. Not locking-out my elbows also helps. Being more relaxed makes hitting those inevitable bumps in the road not sooo bad. Feathering my breaks, instead of keeping a death grip on them, also helps with all of the above. 

Whew. I have a lot to learn and most of it involves trusting myself. And all of those crazy drivers whizzing by me in their 2-ton vehicles, drinking their morning coffee, texting illegally, and putting on mascara. Ugh! This is going to be a long road (pun intended).

All in all, we finished the 25-mile ride feeling strong and all knowing what we should work on over the next week. We even felt good enough to take this lovely group photo. I have to say, if there’s a group to spend the next 4 months with, this is a great match! I’m definitely looking forward to getting to know these lovely women, learning from our coaches, and attempting to conquer my fear of, “what goes up, must come down”--(That would be me. On my bike. Rubber still on the road.)

Please take a moment to visit my fundraising page and consider donating to help CURE Cancer: http://pages.teamintraining.org/sj/ambbr12/kabbottlix

GO TEAM!

Time Trial (12 miles)

What? Time Trial? You mean I have to go fast? Uphill, flat road, fast is not a problem. It’s the entire downhill portion that comes with living in such a beautiful, and incredibly hilly, part of the country that terrifies me.

Pretty Darn Lucky 

So Time Trial, eh? The purpose of the time trial is to split our large cycling group into smaller, similarly paced ride groups. Okay, I understand the point of this as I had a similar experience when I was training with a group for two Mini Marathon seasons in Indy—except, I knew how fast I could run. No time trial needed. And running downhill isn’t quite as terrifying. And there aren’t any hills in Indianapolis.

For those of you who know me pretty well, you probably know that I’m typically a risk adverse person. 

Examples below:

• In first grade, I found 15 cents on the playground. Instead of pocketing the finding and going on my merry little way, I avoided any chance of getting in trouble and turned the money into the office. If no one claimed the whopping $0.15 by the end of the week, it was mine. Come Friday, I was 15 cents richer. Yes!

• In high school, we had an amazing donut shop a few blocks away. One of the best things about this was the fact that students not so infrequently left campus to take a mid-morning donut break. Not me. I always gave my donut money to a friend who found thrills in being sneaky. I may have not wanted to get caught leaving campus, but I wasn’t ever giving up a donut.

• I don’t even like driving fast. I try to stay 5-10 mph over the speed limit—most of the time. In fact, the only ticket I’ve ever received (knock on wood!) was for a rolling stop. Behind a parking lot. From a VA Hospital police officer. Ugh. And maybe enough parking tickets to thoroughly fund my coffee habit for the rest of my life—but this is neither the time, nor place to delve into my unique ability to receive parking tickets

Now that I seem like the most boring person of all time, back to the Time Trial. As we learned, the time trial is meant for us to ride at a comfortable pace so we can be appropriately placed with others who ride like we do. Hmmm, well, I think I’m the only cyclist here who actually goes faster uphill than downhill, so this time trial thing should be interesting.

Knowing that we wanted to train together this season, Emily and I rode the time trial together, only getting separated by stoplights and a few moments of “OMG I DON’T WANT TO GO AS FAST AS MY BIKE WANTS ME TO GO DOWN THIS HILL!” 

Side note: when I was little, and I was doing something that scared me, I would sing Hakuna Matata to myself to help alleviate some fear: Hakuna Matata! Hakuna--It means no worries for the rest of your days--It's our problem-free philosophy--Hakuna Matata! It didn’t seem to help me out here. At all. Thanks a lot Timon and Pumba!

Looking back, it was a great ride through Portola Valley (incredibly beautiful!) and Emily and I finished strong together.

While I’m learning to fight my body’s, or more like my mind’s, fear of going downhill fast, I have to remind myself that I’m riding to help those with cancer—who are fighting a much scarier and much longer battle than the brief moments I spend descending these hills. This is what keeps me going.

GO TEAM! 

Please take a moment to visit my fundraising page and consider donating to help CURE Cancer:

http://pages.teamintraining.org/sj/ambbr12/kabbottlix