“ARE YOU READY TO FLY?”
I stared down at the words as I pedaled over them,
struggling up the hill against the strongest headwind I have ever had the
misfortune to ride in (I kid you not: it almost blew me into other riders in
the peloton prior to a group of us leaving the pack). I could not but help think: “Fly?” What, was the momentum from the descent plus
the gosh-forsaken headwind going to be enough of a lift to get me airborne or
something? (Not that I wouldn’t throw that possibility out the window. The wind
was, after all, howling, and the hill was, after all, freakishly steep). As I came over the crest of the hill, the
sassy-rider in my head vanished and was replaced by pure terror.
Perhaps I should clarify: this is not your Hollywood “a
vampire/werewolf/lunatic significant other is going to eat me” sort of terror.
This is what I call the “rollercoaster” terror. A few things happen in your
head.
- “Huh. What a pretty view. I can see for miles around”
- “Gee. The road looks like it gets REALLY steep. Like, Black Diamond ski slope sort of steep.”
- “Golly. If I move one inch forward off this crest, I’m going to shoot straight down, give gravity full control of me and my vehicle, possibly break the sound barrier, probably scream, and most definitely toss my cookies.”
- “Crap. I moved one inch forward. Goodbye cruel world.”
As you can probably tell, I am not a fan of descents. I gripped the handlebars and leaned into
position as I rocketed down the hill. Prior to this weekend, I had gone on a
gravel ride with the team and everyone had told me “loosen your arms, wiggle
them, relax.” At the time, I had simply nodded my head to appease them, but now
I chanted screamed the wisdom they had had bestowed upon me: “LOOSE
ARMS! LOOSE ARMS! I’M RELAXED! I’M
TOTALLY RELAXED!” as I maintained my death grip on my bars (and thankfully not
my brakes).
Despite what the
little voices in my head had predicted, I miraculously coasted off the descent,
right behind a UW girl, Liz. “You wanna
work together?” I asked. She nodded, although our working together consisted
mainly of riding next to one another or me playing “catch up.” In fact, she
dropped me the last mile or two (which was fine by me. That girl could climb up
those last hills like a beast.). Unfortunately, the corner marshals directed
her the wrong way at the end. That was the only reason why I crossed the finish
before she did.
The other win that weekend, though, was well deserved in the
TTT. We rode up to the start line and, as the finish had not yet been set up,
we were told that we were ending at a “White car.” Well, that seemed simple
enough. Rose, Jenna, Kristen and I all escheloned (however one spells that) out
against the @#%! wind. We were feeling strong and kicking butt at the turn
around, passing one other team along the way. But, as we were approaching the
end, confusion ensued.
