September 5, Postlude

September 5, Postlude I want to share some closing thoughts on the bike ride across the country. Since returning home, the pain in my hip has captured most of my attention and interfered with my capacity to reflect until now. The orthopedist believes I activated some arthritis in the hip, and is working toward getting that calmed down. An MRI was negative for any other problems in the hip area. In looking back over the month of the ride, I find it to be a non-stop blur that filled my life with room for nothing else. One rider described it as ride, refuel, recover, sleep, repeat, day after day. I had little idea of what was going on in the world—never watched TV or read a newspaper. I had thought prior to the ride that I would have time to socialize and do some interesting tourist things. I soon realized that my purpose was to ride across the country, and that all my time and energy would be focused on that goal. Also, in looking back, I have some difficulty understanding how I was able to accomplish this goal. I had occasionally ridden back-to-back one hundred mile days, and once three back to back centuries. I knew that the ride would be a challenge, but reality was a bigger challenge than I had imagined. I realized early on that looking beyond the next day was not helpful, and created a sense of worry. I knew that I could ride 120 or so miles, and if that was my focus, I felt confident that I could do that the next day. I knew that I routinely rode 30 miles in 1.5-2.0 hours, the distance between the breaks for refueling each day. If I could focus on those smaller bites, and string those segments and the days together, I could keep my confidence up by believing that each day was doable. Also, with the steep climbs, I knew that once I got to the top, the reward was a thrilling descent of 10 or so miles at 30-40 mph. Pushing beyond what I would have assumed to be my limits became routine. My determination wavered at times, particularly with the hip pain, but focusing on the goal sustained me when physical pain and headwind discouragement, had me questioning whether I could or even wanted to continue to pursue the fantasized goal. At times, I wondered why I ever wanted to do this. I even tried to come up with someone to blame. Other parts of the mental battle: If I were to quit, how would I get home? Who would I disappoint? I realized that I would disappoint myself. Probably everyone else would understand quitting as making sense. By about the third day, my daughter, Amy, told her mother, “The problem with Dad is that he won’t know when he needs to take a break.” As the hip pain persisted, I wondered how bad it would need to get before I could not take it anymore. But then, my thoughts shifted: If I could get some rest and get up the next morning, and start out, I could do that first 30 miles…. An important mental aspect of the ride was the beautiful and varied scenery that kept the days interesting. Bodies of water, forests, snow-capped mountains were experienced as glimpses while riding hard much of the time. On the other hand, staying alert to the fact that traffic was often a few feet away, demanded its own focus, as well as capacity for denial. I would never want to ride on the shoulder of I-80 toward Council Bluffs or Iowa City. On any bike ride, it is impossible to anticipate everything that might become a challenge. The need to find a new bike computer at Walmart in Ludington, MI, at 9:00 p.m. was essential in order to follow the cue sheet for the next day. Having a bike shop employee roommate was fortunate. The day with two flats and decision to replace my tire was a gamble that worked out, while also adding a time pressure element to that already stressful day. Bottom line is that I am as delighted that I wanted to take on the challenge of the ride, as I am that I achieved the goal of riding cross-country. The sense of satisfaction is indescribable. Many people were involved with this endeavor-- Most longer distance bikers benefit from having someone who functions in an enabling, supportive role. Marsha has provided that support for 30 years. She discovered the 1973 ride across Iowa that became Ragbrai, and she supported Amy Ellen and me when we rode number 10 in 1982. She has rescued me from flat tires and mechanical breakdowns. I have always been biking on Saturday mornings rather than accompany her to the farmers’ market. Marsha has said, “If you are going to ever do this, now is the time.” Then, she spent the month alternating between encouraging and worrying. Seeing her in Albert Lea was a wonderful connection to reality. Amy Ellen and Ben have constantly led cheers for me over the years, and they offered their constant presence and encouragement throughout this ride. Ben’s music selections were uncannily right on. Two year old Gabriel’s phone calls, encouraging me to take more EPO enhanced my strength. My mother’s prayers were a reminder of her constant presence. My brother’s encouragement and the serendipitous connection with his daughter, Holly, and her family in Rapid City, were wonderful. The support of the Pastoral Counseling Center’s board and staff made this 5-week endeavor possible. The board granted me the time away. With our fine staff, the Center functioned flawlessly, and both board and staff supported the fund-raising element of the ride. All the donors and blog-watchers helped the Center raise more than $30,000 for our Counseling Assistance Fund. My weekend riding group of Jim, Mike, Andy, Mark, Patrick, Rob, and others have kept me in shape while I have chased them over the years and miles. The folks at Bike World where I purchased my Trek Madone a few years ago were encouraging and told me I would have a great time. Ernie Fisher had the bike tuned and equipped to handle the mountains. I had no mechanical problems. All the folks who expressed interest and encouragement, all who worried some and were with me in spirit—I felt your presence.