A likely failure
This all started last spring.
I was a very, very amateur bike rider who had this idea that I could bike 100 miles. Never mind that I had never before biked more than 50. Never mind that the ride where I planned to reach the mythical century, the Minnesota Ironman, was only the second time I'd be on my bike outside this year (thank you very much cold, cold, terribly cold and snowy spring!). Never mind, I was going to do it.
And then I didn't. I rode that day and felt pretty good through the first fifty miles before it all fell apart. I had something like an asthma attack. Unable to breathe, I limped into the Afton rest stop, dry heaving, and decided after spending some time under the medic tent to go no further. Actually, for the record, I don't think the student medics there were going to let me ride any further. I was done 60 miles in; a long, long way away from 100, but it wasn't the end of the world. I had trained well for that ride but the reality was that I still probably wouldn't have finished. Even if I didn't have a breathing problem I hadn't done a great job with nutrition and, like I said, I hadn't exactly had much opportunity to train outside.
Century, take II
Fast forward to this past week and I was ready for redemption. I had targeted the Headwaters 100 for months, carefully tailoring a training plan and even managing to eat better in the weeks leading up to the event. I was ready to do it.
Until everything fell apart.
A week ago Saturday the unraveling began. I awoke the morning of my last long training ride with sinus pressure; no biggie, nothing I hadn't ridden through before. So I did it: 52 miles of riding and it felt... well... not great. I didn't have a ton of energy but I got my miles in and I knew it would be beneficial in the long run.
Unless I got a cold.
Which of course I did.
At first the sinus pressure just lingered, then worsened, then moved into my throat, then finally--and most unforunately--settled in my lungs. Bronchitis. My favorite. Last Thursday I was about 100% sure I wasn't going to attempt the Headwaters ride on Saturday. I felt terrible, taking a little bit of everything medicinal to try to rid myself of the dread disease. On Friday, the day I would have to travel down to Park Rapids, I decided four times to go and not to go... to go and not to go... packing and unpacking...
Finally, I did it. I packed up, a bit quicker than I would have liked, and hit the road.
Good news and slightly less good news
As the day progressed my decision looked great. I felt better, had a decent dinner and for the first time all week I had energy. Even the forecast didn't look quite so dire as it had for the past few days. According to Accuweather the chance for rain was 50% most of the morning but the temps weren't supposed to dip below the mid-50s overnight, and, well, 50% meant 50% of no rain as far as I was concerned. I just assumed that my health and the weather were working together hand-in-hand to make this happen.
When we awoke the next morning, Alex, my riding partner, and I found it was 63 degrees and just beautiful outside. This looked more than doable; it might even be pleasant. As I had breakfast at the Americinn (which gratefully opened their continental breakfast at 5 a.m. on ride morning!), we had our first indication that something was awry. If the radar was any indication, a giant green blob was moving our way. This was less exciting, but Accuweather confidently told me again that it was not supposed to rain until 9 a.m. and then it would only be off and on. That didn't sound too bad.
There was one other small problem: I found I was missing my bike jersey. This is an incredibly stupid thing to forget, but in the rush of packing and unpacking the day before apparently I forgot a few things; this being a rather noticeable one. I hatched a quick plan: I knew they were selling jerseys over at the ride, so I would stop at an ATM, pick up some cash and buy a jersey to wear for the event. This wasn't ideal but also not unsolvable.
We loaded up our vehicles and drove over to the ride start at a school in Park Rapids. As we stepped out into the parking lot it started to rain, just misting, nothing terrible, but I knew it wasn't a good sign.
From bad to worse
Alex and I joined Jeremy, another friend of mine, to begin our ride a little after 7 a.m. When we checked in I asked about the jerseys. As it turns out I could order them but it was just that. Order. Not have one right there. Of course this was the case (and I immediately felt foolish that I ever thought this was an option). The only good news was that I had a pocket in my rain jacket; otherwise I was completely without the nice, bonus pockets afforded by decent bike clothing. Furthermore, I just felt stupid. I was riding a century and here I was looking less professional than on any ride in the preceding months. It just felt wrong. Also, and it strikes me now that this was probably far more important, cycling jerseys tend to repel water. My workout t-shirt? Not so much.
Meanwhile, in the few minutes it took for me to clothe myself in appropriate bike apparel (sans jersey), the mist had turned to showers and, I wasn't sure if it was just me, but the temperature seemed to have dropped. It was not a good sign, but we started out in good spirits. At least for the first 0.1 miles...
And that's where I'll pick it up tomorrow!
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