A Big, Fat, Hairy Goal

I rode my bike today and the internal dialogue went a little something like this:

“Yup, this sucks.  I should’ve taken a nap instead.”

“No, you need to get on your bike.  Be consistent.  You’ll get your fitness back.”

“That really old man on a mountain bike with sneakers just passed you like you were standing still.  Was he laughing at you?  You could always just turn around and ride home now.”

“Stop comparing yourself to other riders.  Maybe you can find some remote place to ride where there’s no one else on the road and no one will recognize you.”

“This is miserable.  Don’t you always say that if it’s not fun, don’t do it?  This is definitely not fun.”

“Whew!  2,000’ of climbing in 20 miles.  It sucked, but that’s a solid ride.  Stop beating yourself up and enjoy the cruise home.”

“I guess this is better than the ride this weekend.  Wait a minute, it might even be fun again.”

“That cute guy keeps talking to me.  Maybe I don’t look so miserable after all.”

“Wow, that was the best ride ever!”

I’m not a natural athlete.  I’m not a genetic freak like many of the riders I know.  I didn’t even participate in any sports or fitness activities for the first 30 years of my life.  In the past 15 years, since I started riding a bicycle, I’ve had to train really hard just to be a mediocre rider.  And now, after 3+ months off the bike, it feels impossible that I’ll even be mediocre again. 

I find it impossible to remember that just a few months ago I could climb mountains and ride my bike all day.  I think back to the awesome events I rode in the past 12 months (Furnace Creek 508, US Paralympic Track Nationals, La Vuelta Puerto Rico, the monthly Strava Gran Fondos, a ride around Lake Tahoe, and the Death Ride climbs, and can’t see myself ever being able to do that again. 

I often feel hopeless when I’m on the bike.  It really isn’t fun.  Honestly, it’s pretty miserable, both mentally and physically.  It seems like the road back to fitness will be impossibly long and difficult.  But I love riding my bike.  Just not right now.  I have to remember the love.  And I know that the best way to regain my fitness is to get out there and ride my limits (which are very low right now) consistently.  I need to log the hours.  I need to embrace the misery.  And I know, day by day, week by week, it will get better.

I turn 50 next year.  My friend Ren decided that we should push our limits and race the HooDoo 500 together to celebrate this milestone.  It’s a big, fat, hairy goal.  But it’s 10 months away.  Luckily, we’ve already chosen some milestone events to keep us motivated.  So today, I rode for Ren and her lovely wife, Tiffney, and their two beautiful daughters.  They’ve had a heck of a year, with the birth of a child, breast cancer diagnosis and treatment, and career changes.  So we’ll be celebrating them at HooDoo 500, too.

Thanks for getting me out there today, Ren (even if you couldn't make it out with me)!

My Christmas Confession

I’ve been lying to everyone and it’s time to make amends.  You see, when asked about Christmas, I always tell folks I “don’t do” Christmas.  And that’s true.  I don’t celebrate the holiday in a traditional way.  I don’t have family, so I don’t feel obligated to participate in any dreaded family get-togethers.  I haven’t purchased a single gift nor have I mailed even one card.  There are no candles in the window nor carols at the spinet.  And I’ve lived this way for close to two decades. 

But the reality is, I really do love Christmas.  Besides the stress that surrounds the holiday, I have some lovely memories of big family dinners, Christmas Eve midnight mass, our annual Christmas choir concert featuring “O Holy Night,” and Christmas morning with all the grandchildren.  I used to decorate a tree each year and I still have a box of ornaments (in storage) that I collected in the first 30 years of my life.  I used to send out hundreds of Christmas cards.  I used to bake dozens of cookies for family, friends, and co-workers.  I even used to host a Christmas caroling party at my home.  So, what happened?  How did I become the girl who didn’t “do Christmas?”

The transition happened gradually, shortly before I moved to California in 1998.  My grandmother, who had been the anchor of many of our family traditions, passed away.  My father picked up the reins and we started some new traditions without her.  And then my father died.  And then I moved to California.  The first winter I lived here, I travelled home to upstate New York for the holiday.  It was just me, my mother, and my sister (who also used to live in CA).   My other sister had estranged herself from the family, and, as the mother of the only grandchildren in the family, she deprived us of sharing the experience with children.  So we went from a two-day celebration filled with tons of family and friends to a depressing week where my mother didn’t get out of bed, my sister drank 2 bottles of wine each night, and I started to hate the holiday that I had always loved.  Although my mother lived another five years after this, that was my last Christmas in New York.

The following year, I started riding a bicycle.  I hooked up with three other riders (all training for the California AIDS Ride) and we rode together for 4 days over the Christmas holiday.  We called ourselves the “Christmas Orphans.”  We each had a different story, but what we shared was the fact that we were alone for the holidays and that we all rode a bike.  On Christmas morning 1999, we rode a 30-mile route in San Francisco.  We continued to be friends and this ride became a holiday tradition.  Over the years, the other three moved on to other traditions, I continued on, and today marked the 15^th Annual Christmas Orphans’ Tour of San Francisco.  In these 15 years, I’ve only missed twice:  once when we cancelled due to torrential rain and wind and once when I was recovering from surgery.

One year, there were only 2 of us on the ride (it was pouring rain).  One year, there were close to 100 riders (thanks to a calendar listing from the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition.  Everyone comes from a different place, many of them with connections to me, and they share the desire to participate in a fun, social ride on Christmas morning.  And, no matter what size the group, we bring smiles to the faces of all who see us, dressed in Santa hats, elf costumes, and riding decorated bikes. 

Alyson + Lorri at the Golden Gate Bridge

The Christmas Orphans’ Tour of San Francisco is a unique ride.  It’s not a long ride, totaling just 29 miles.  It’s not a hard ride, with less than 1,500’ of climbing.  It’s not a fast ride, since we keep the group together (no matter how slow the slowest rider is) and we stop to enjoy the view, take photos, and maybe even have a cup of hot chocolate.  It’s a social ride where old friends and new friends get to see the city in a new way.  On Christmas morning, when everyone else is sitting around their Christmas tree, you can see the random art in the city – the murals and mosaics, the sculpture and the architecture, and, on a clear day like today, the amazing views of the bay, the bridges, and the ocean.

It’s been fascinating for me to see how our beautiful city has changed in the past 15 years.  The infrastructure for bicycles has improved dramatically.  The ballpark was built and has changed names a couple of times.  Parts of the city have been developed while other parts have become less desirable.  I’ve noticed more folks are out and about running, bicycling, surfing, and walking (and today’s beautiful weather definitely contributed to this).  And I still see the homeless, the needy, and the hopeful on street corners and hidden in the nooks and crannies of the city. 

So, my reality is that I DO celebrate Christmas.  And I DO give gifts.  My gift is bringing together random strangers and friends to share in this amazing experience.  I give folks who might be alone the opportunity to spend time with others.  I give folks who don’t celebrate Christmas something to do on a day when many folks are busy with family.  I give myself the opportunity to continue a tradition that has been very meaningful for me.  And the other riders give me the opportunity to share this with them.

It’s amazing to me that I’ve continued this tradition for 15 years.  I don’t think I’ve ever done anything else in my entire life for 15 years.  But then again, I’ve never loved anything or anyone the way I love my bike.  And love is actually what traditions like Christmas are all about.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

The Christmas Orphans at Fisherman's Wharf

beauty + balance + intimacy

As a small business owner, I find myself (like other small business owners) sometimes doing more "business" than actual coaching. Year-end is always super-busy for me in this respect -- finalizing all the details for Velo Girls (the club + the team), membership renewal, securing sponsors, publishing my Savvy Bike coaching calendar, and (this year) trying to launch two new websites. I've spent an inordinate amount of time riding my desk instead of riding my bike.

Today I spent the day in my mobile office (aka Honda Element) with meetings that took me from San Jose to Carmel Valley to Santa Cruz. Along the way, I snapped a few images, the best of which I want to share with you.

While I would have rather been riding my bike today, the miles in the car reminded me of the many things I LOVE about riding. I love the people I've met, the places I've been, and the things I've seen. Today I was awestruck with the amazing beauty that is California. I saw winter hills, redwoods, Spanish moss, mistletoe, California live oak, eucalyptus, and madrones. I saw farmers' fields, a sandy beach, and country roads. I crossed the path of cows, horses, deer, peacocks, hawks, skunks, and a wild boar (still roaming Carmel Valley Road where I last saw him 3 or 4 years ago).

We're blessed to live here and experience this beautiful state in such an intimate way -- on the saddle of a bicycle.

how the other half lives

I've been down for the count all week, suffering from a serious bout of the flu. my 102+ fever finally broke and today is the first day since Monday that I've put clothes on and ventured out of the house. my adventure was pretty simple -- groceries at the store next to my condo complex -- but on the walk I was able to soak in some fabulous sunshine and observe how the rest of the world (ie those who don't ride bikes) spend a sunny Saturday morning. you see, for the better part of the last decade, I've ridden my bike every weekend day, rain or shine, year-round. I think I've forgotten how the other half lives.

but as I was contemplating this, I realized I wouldn't trade my past decade for anything in the world. I've met my best friends riding my bike. I've travelled on my best vacations to exotic countries riding my bike. I've had fabulous romances riding my bike. I've seen parts of California I'd never see if I hadn't been riding my bike. I've challenged myself in ways unimaginable, riding my bike. and I've done all this as a healthier, happier person.

so, instead of stressing about being sick and losing a week or more on the bike, I'll sit on my patio, enjoy the sunshine, and reflect on what a wonderful life I've got.....riding my bike!