A Century

Not the century of a hundred years, but the hundred mile bicycle ride century. Drove down to Palm Springs this past Friday. Wanted to do my first century ride. The Tour de Palm Springs seemed like a good one. Plus thought it would be good to get to some warmer weather.
Saturday morning. Breakfast at 5AM at a nearby IHOP. Couldn’t quite eat the whole thing. Pre ride jitters probably. Tried to relax, but too many things rattling around in my brain. Back in my truck heading down the street to the starting point, ahead of schedule, but that’s me. Rather get somewhere early and wait than arrive late and miss out. The guy directed me to the dirt parking lot “just follow Larry” was what he said. I looked for Larry and there he was, old guy, maybe 140 years old or so. Old Larry’s waving a flashlight as if it were a sparkler on the 4th of July. He steps to my truck and tells me to park next to the car at the head of aisle. No problem. Then I spot an equally old woman (Mrs. Larry?) with a Star Wars light saber in her hand guiding me in for a landing.
Now I’m officially parked and able to watch the two of them. The best show in town. By now the row I’m in is full and they’ve directed cars to start another row behind mine. Only problem is that there’s already a row in front of me which means if I finish before everyone around me, I’m stuck. Gotta wait for someone to finish. I watch the drama unfold. Fortunately, the third guy to park explains the dilemma to Larry. He jumps, well maybe, steps, into action. More waving of the flashlight. Finally the cars have backed up and left me room to back out of my spot.
The time for the ride to start has arrived. My riding partner and fellow riding club member, Libby and I put on our riding gear, game faces and off we go to the starting line. The ride, much to the credit of the organizers, starts at 7AM sharp. It takes us about 20 minutes to reach the actual street from our back of the pack position. Then it’s a very slow ride on the street to get out of town. I won’t say it was really slow, but I think I saw some kid on a Big Wheel was on the sidewalk passing us all.
We finally make it to the outskirts and we’re on our way. I won’t bore you with the mile by mile recount of our ride. It was at times fun, tedious, painful, grueling and scary. But mostly fun. We saw crashes, injuries and knuckleheads. The guys that always think they’re Lance Armstrong competing in the Tour de France. All our training paid off when we crossed the finish line. It felt good. The feeling of accomplishment was grand.
Most people don’t understand the appeal. Most people don’t have the discipline. Most people don’t understand my training methods and chose to go another way. But to paraphrase, the proof is in the cycling.