Meanwhile, Five Months Later...

For five months, I focused on a single day. Training, preparing, dreading, anticipating. I've ridden all I can ride to ready my body for the ride. I've pushed myself to go on when I wanted to stop, bargained with the devil to reach the top of hills. I've frozen, I've baked. I've eaten more energy bars than I care to recall, more bananas than a chimpanzee and more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches than a first grader.

For five months, I focused on a single day. 23 early Saturday morning alarms, 23 times loading the bike, 23 times donning the bike shorts, 23 times loading the gear, 23 times shortchanging the dog, 23 times leaving a sleeping child, 23 times leaving at sun-up or before.

For five months, I focused on a single day. A lot can happen between now and the end of the Death Ride. My mind and body are ready. But things happen: Mechanical failures, flat tires, other things that could slow a rider down. The Death Ride has time constraints. For a slower rider like me, proper time management is the thin line between success and failure. There are key cut-off times to be met in order to continue on and complete the full five passes. A single flat probably won't make or break my timing. Multiple flats probably would, although I would do my best to not allow that to affect the outcome. But if it happens, it happens. I would be disappointed but not devastated.

For five months, I focused on a single day. But while I was focusing, I was also living. And living big. And being present.

On the bike, there isn't an escape. The bike can be an escape, but you don't escape yourself. Your mind can spin as fast as your pedals do. Your mind can spin happy, strong, positive thoughts, or it can spin negative, exhausted, this-is-too-hard thoughts. Legs that feel like lead during one climb can have a surge of energy and dance on the pedals during the next climb. Where your legs go, your mind follows. Where your mind goes, your legs follow. No matter what, you move forward. You get stronger physically and mentally. You push yourself and seek out challenges. Maybe that seeking is a new experience. Maybe it's one you once had 'back in the day' and have rediscovered it.

For five months, I focused on a single day. While I was focusing, I was getting to know my team. I spent 8, 10, 14 hours on a bicycle seat with a very small group, but had the camaraderie of a larger group. Still, the Death Ride team is small and intimate. Our conversations filled the day, kept the voices out of our heads. I've learned about family histories and I've shared some of mine. We know each others' strengths, weaknesses, foibles and annoyances. Surprisingly, some of the team still even likes me.

For five months, I focused on a single day. I will not forget the richness of our shared experiences, our laughter, our tears at the sharing of a loss. I will not forget how good beer tastes through sweat and salt, and the magic of chocolate milk or Honey Stingers or a really cold Coke. I will not forget our wonderful Honorees, our dedicated Volunteer Coaches and Staff and the new friends I've made along these 2600 training miles and 213,000 vertical feet. I've had the best time. Thank you. You rock.

For five months, I focused on a single day.

And now, it's time.