It's all about T.I.T.S my friends...

**First, our trip to Napa and Sonoma was fabulous and once I get pictures uploaded, I'll write a whole blog about it.  Truly an amazing place, the vineyards were breathtaking, the wedding we went to was one of the best (besides the freezing cold temps), we got to explore a little of San Francisco and we made it home with little delay (for us, that's a victory in itself, especially since I got a call on Thursday after we landed in San Jose that our return flights were canceled and they had rebooked us on separate flights, with me leaving late Sunday night and Tom leaving early Monday morning.  I love American Airlines so much...)

Anyway, yesterday we had the brilliant idea to head out for a century - the first of the year.  I hadn't been on my bike for a few days and thought the T.I.T.S (time in the saddle) would be good. Little did I know how hellish, yet amazing the ride would end up.

After being in 60 degree temps of California for the last four days, we were a little shocked by the high of 92 predicted for the day.  I slathered myself in sunscreen (which, a little PSA - DO IT KIDS... being tan may be cute, having cancer sucks).  We filled as many water bottles as we could both hold, loaded up on food and money, printed out a new route sheet which would take us to the Utica Ice Cream Festival (gotta have a destination) and headed out.  The first 20 miles or so were amazing.  Wind at our back, not a cloud in the sky.  At one point, Tom says to me "I think we're going to be fighting on the way back".  Whatever... I was thoroughly enjoying my T.I.T.S.  Around mile 35, we hit some gravel roads.  These were new roads for us and we didn't know what we were going to get.  We got rocks... I'm not talking the typical summer-in-Ohio chip and seal.  These were rocks.  I slowed my pace to about 5mph, death gripped my bike, unclipped one foot and slowly made my way forward.  For about 5 miles.  It was on and off, but it sucked big time.  Totally takes the wind out of your sail.  At about mile 46, we couldn't take it any more and changed the route according to my GPS.  5 miles on a busier road would be no problem as long as we didn't have to endure the rocks.

But, I put the wrong address in my phone.

Opps... so maybe 10 miles later we arrive in a town.  Cold beverages.  That's all we wanted.  Screw the ice cream festival which was outside... there was a brand new Subway which had air conditioning. We nom nom nomed a sub, downed 32 ounces of Poweraid and filled up all of our bottled empty bottles with ice cold water.  Our return route home was on different roads so we were fine.

The ride home was in the wind.  By mile 65, I was dead. Our next turn was on more gravel roads. My water was hot, my stomach was sloshing, my eyes couldn't stay open.  I had flash backs of Ironman Louisville... this is dehydration / heat related.  I stopped at a tree, laid my bike down and cried.  How was I ever going to make it home 35 miles? And then I realized that it was more like 45 miles because of our detour out... I started thinking "I'll call my mom.  She can come get me".  But I knew they were having a BBQ for Memorial Day and I didn't want to ruin that.  And who am I to quit when the going gets tough?  At that minute she called me - mother's intuition I guess.  I cried to her and of course she said in a stern voice "figure out where you are and I"m coming to get you".  I hung up, defeated.

This ride wasn't about time or speed.  It was truly about T.I.T.S and enjoying the day with my husband.  I'm not a quitter.  We'd be in a little town soon enough to get fresh water.  My spirits started lifting and I called my mom back.  "Don't come get me... you just called at a bad time".  We rerouted ourselves a more direct, albeit busier, way home.

Within 5 miles, I felt like a new person.  Granted we were paceline riding on a 55 mph road and it was getting late so the sun wasn't as strong.  But I felt awesome.  We stopped at a fire station for ice water.  And then again at a pizza shop for more poweraid.  At 85 miles, I felt like I could ride forever, but that pizza smelled so good that I just wanted to get home!

I knew the ride would be around 108 to our house and I was actually excited.  I had made it through a miserable low and felt strong.  My pulls were 22mph, nothing hurt.

At mile 99.58 were hear it.

Psssssssssssssssst

Tom's flat.  Our spare tube is faulty.  I try to call my mom just to tell her we are alright because I know she's panicked.  I get one and a half rings out and my phone dies.  Great.  We're 8.5 miles from home.  I tell Tom that I'm going to start riding to get the car and he insists that he'll go since he's faster.  So I sit (luckily on a bridge over a beautiful body of water here in Delaware), and wait.

I count 110 cars in a 20 minute period that pass.  Only one asks if I need help.  Tom finally arrives and we head home.  What a crappy end to a hard day.  And I'm short .42 miles of my century.

I got home and hopped on my bike.  I went around the block until I hit the 100.  I had come too far to not finish what I started.

Might have been the hardest 100 I've ever done, but if that doesn't built mental toughness, nothing will!

Afterall, it's all about T.I.T.S my friends and 100 miles of T.I.T.S in May makes me happy!