Well, I went out on Friday for one last long run before the Endurance 50.  It started raining around 4 miles, and didn’t let up for the next 14.  In my usual peculiar fashion, though, I actually sort of enjoyed it.  Pushing through dreadful circumstances is oddly exhilarating.  I ran pretty solid 10:15 miles, good enough to make me very happy, and guardedly optimistic about my ability to run the whole 26.2 with Dean.

Saturday I rested my slightly stiff legs, but then, amazingly, I felt fantastic yesterday, and I was getting ready to go out for a short run, but my husband stopped me.  He pointed out, reasonably, I suppose, that I really ought to conserve every last little speck of energy, given how little I’ve trained.  So I didn’t run yesterday, either.

Just as an aside, I went to my writing class in the afternoon, and came to an interesting conclusion.  This is the first fiction class I’ve done that really approaches the craft from an emotional perspective; that’s why I signed up for it.  I felt that I needed to push through some intellectual barriers to get some real depth to my characters.  Unfortunately, it’s working.  I’m finding the class really emotionally difficult–draining.  It’s making me uncomfortable, but I’m determined–again–to push through the hard stuff to get to what I really want to do.  Are there perhaps interesting parallels between different parts of my life that I usually compartmentalize pretty neatly?  Hmm . . .

Anyway, so I came home from class exhausted, with a terrible headache, and went to bed, assuming it was stress.  WRONG!  I woke up about 1:30 with fever and chills and all the attendant aches and misery.  I felt a bit like my eyeballs might explode.  It took me nearly an hour to figure out what was wrong, but I finally took some Tylenol and went, more or less, back to sleep.  I’ve pretty much been in bed all day (my son was also home today, although he’s congested, not feverish, so I think he’ll be going to school tomorrow); the Tylenol keeps the head to a dull roar, but I can’t seem to get the fever below 100.

And my daughter is convinced that Halloween is the most important day of the year, and her expectations and adrenalin, coupled with my lack of interest, are making for a really hideous evening at our house.

Guess I’m not running a marathon tomorrow . . .

Aaargh!  The new microwave just arrived, but when the delivery guys opened the box to install it, there was a great huge dent in the bottom front edge–right where it was most likely to be noticeable.

So I still have to cook!  I must resist the urge to make a huge batch of garlic knots, and homemade linguine, with roasted plum tomatoes (there are still a few lovely ones at the farmer’s market; I saw them yesterday . . .) and apple crisp . . .  This is what I’m thinking would be tasty.

Actually, we have a sitter this evening, so I don’t have to cook anyway. 

I know, I know.  I haven’t blogged in more than a week.  I’m still here, though, and still riding and running.  The following are in no way intended as excuses for my blog-slacker-ness, but merely as explanation.  So this is what I’ve been up to:

1–Running.  Everyone’s getting tired of hearing me wax inspirational about Dean Karnazes, so I’ll just say that I’ve been running a lot, and am excited about the prospect of meeting him next Tuesday.  I did 14 miles on Tuesday, at a solid 10-minute pace, so I know I can hang with the group for a good while.  It’s a round-and-about, criss-crossy sort of trail run, so I figure I’ll just run until I can’t anymore, then walk to the finish.

2–Riding.  I did Le Tour de Femme on Saturday and had a grand time.  I started toward the front, so I was able to find groups to ride with the whole 62 miles–don’t underestimate the importance of riding with a group.  It brings my speed up at least 1.5/mph, plus I have more fun, and I’m less tired at the end.  I met a cool group of women from Apex, some of whom riding DURING THE SCHOOL DAY–yay!  Buddies to ride with!  I need to hook up with them ASAP.

3–Saddle sores.  I finally went to the doctor yesterday, because they kept sort of flaring up and migrating around, and she said I need a week of antibiotics.  I spent some time online reading up on saddle sores over the weekend, and apparently they can get bad enough to require surgery.  Ouch.  Needless to say, I got up Monday morning and called for that appointment.  Having my butt lanced doesn’t strike me as a fun party.  Probably wouldn’t do much for my cycling, either.

4–We’re in appliance hell.  I probably haven’t mentioned this, but sometime around the beginning of September, when I was feeling totally swamped by riding and painting and children and general stuff, I gave up cooking.  This is hard for me, because I passionately love to cook.  I read cookbooks for fun–front to back, all the recipes–I have stacks of them.  I really, really, love being in the kitchen.  BUT–there are only so many hours in the day, and something had to go, so it was cooking.  We started eating (gasp!) frozen food.  My other secret ulterior motive was that I wanted to lose a few pounds, half of which I have now lost, but I still have a few to go–when I cook, I eat too much.  Lean Cuisine–less appealing.  So anyway, last week the microwave died.  I was suddenly thrust back into cooking, so my mental vision of my days has had to shift to make time.  New microwave comes this afternoon.  Thank goodness.

5–Writing.  I’m taking a 5-week Women’s Writing Intensive with Zelda Lockhart, an author in Hillsborough.  She’s fabulous; I took a publishing workshop a month or two ago, and based on her advice, decided that I need to extract a short story from my novel and get it out there, so that’s what I’m working on.  We have homework for the class, plus we’re expected to write as much as possible, so I’ve been writing THAT instead of THIS.  Must learn to balance . . .

I think that’s about all I’ve been doing.  Plus school conferences, Tae Kwon Do, carpool, trying to scrub the walls of the back stairwell so that I can get it painted so that I can return this unwieldy Gorilla ladder to my brother-in-law.  Oh, and of course, the ever-present dishes and laundry . . .

Okay, it’s definitely a doozy.  So remember several weeks ago I wrote a post about Dean Karnazes and his 50 marathons?  Well, last week after I got through all the laundry (and I do mean all–we figured out that the new washer will even do our king-sized comforter, so I went on a real washing binge), I settled down to reread his book, Ultramarathon Man.  It’s a great read, and worth a revisit here at the beginning of my own ultra quest.

So I was planning to go to Greensboro on Halloween to run with him; I figured I’d do 5 miles or so, since I haven’t been running lately AT ALL.  I just really wanted the opportunity to meet him and maybe even chat a bit in those first few miles.  But reading the book again was a mistake.  This is a man who quit running for many years, and when he went back to it in mid-life, his first time out was 30 miles in the middle of the night.  My kind of guy.  So I decided–why not give it the old college try?

I have no illusions that I’ll actually make it all 26.2 miles, but I’m crash training to see how far I can go.  I ran 8 miles on Saturday, 10 on Monday, and 12 today.  I’ve felt pretty good until today; it was nasty humid and hot this morning, and bits and pieces of me were beginning to hurt.  My calves, in particular, are not happy.  So I’m stretching like crazy and drinking lots of water this afternoon.  And trying to keep my children from killing each other.  My daughter has Tae Kwon Do testing this evening, and her brother is trying to “help.”  It sounds, from here, more like a wrestling match. 

The marathon is actually a good idea–really, I’m not just saying that.  It turns out I’ve got a bumper crop of–ahem–saddle issues, so hopefully a couple of weeks off the bike (mostly–I’m planning to do le Tour de Femme on Saturday) will help.

Not sure why the saddle problems; must get to the bottom of that  (tee hee . . .)

In case you hadn’t noticed, I haven’t blogged much in the past week, due to even higher-than-normal levels of chaos in my house.  My son (Toby) was on fall break, and Mr. Helpful had planned to take him out of town for most of the week, but their trip fell apart at the last minute, so instead they both rattled around the house all week.  I like them both very much, and was happy to have them, but it was quite impossible to get back into my normal routine.  And poor Delaney had school all week, so while the boys were goofing off, she was trying to do homework and cope with the general difficulty of 4th grade.  And I was caught between the routine and the not-routine.

I did manage to get in one long ride; I decided to just plow forward with the CNC miles already in my legs, and I went 80 miles on Tuesday.  Probably a mistake.  I felt fine, and rode strong, and then got home and realized I was totally wasted.  I think I went to bed at 9.  I never go to bed at 9.  I felt like I had done a really major event, not just a random training ride.  I guess all those CNC miles required a bit more recovery time, or perhaps that whole aging process I keep ignoring is beginning to catch up with me . . .  Nah.  Must’ve been the headwind.

Anway, there’s one more thing I need to say about CNC, and then I’ll move on to my next insane idea (and it’s definitely a doozy).  Here’s my soapbox:  those of us who love this sport, any element of it, need to be sharing our passion with the children in our lives.  If there are no children in your life, find some.

My two school-sharing experiences last week were the high points of my ride.  If just one of those children grows up and decides to commute to work or enter a bike race or just ride to the coffee shop occasionally, it will have been well worth the few minutes longer it took me to get to the finish.  The obesity problem in this country is very real to me–I live every day with my husband’s heart disease, and I worry about the genetic impact it will have on my kids.  Lifestyle is something we can control, and humans were designed for an ACTIVE lifestyle.  I have a real passion for riding my bicycle, and I think I have a moral obligation to share that passion with children who can benefit from it.

Tour rides, like CNC, are the perfect opportunity to inspire kids.  If even half of the 1000 cyclists who rode CNC decided to make an impact on schools along the route, think how many kids we could reach.  It only takes 15 or 20 minutes to show a group how crazy we look with our bikes and gear and wild spandex, and to help them understand what a blast we’re having and just how much the human body is capable of.  I’m not Lance; I don’t look like him or live like him or ride like him.  What I do is not out of reach for the average person; on the contrary, it’s perfectly reasonable.  Children need to know the possibilities.  That whole “it takes a village” thing?  Well, it really does.

Okay.  Enough preaching for one day.  Ride strong.

All right.  I’ve been home for a few days now, and have a few more things I need to say about CNC before I move on. 

I was anxious, before I went, about going away by myself for a week.  I read through the registered rider list several times, making mental notes about familiar names, and people either I or my husband knew from different places.  I even made contact with some folks, asking them to keep an eye out for me.  Unfounded fears.  In retrospect, I’m really glad I went alone.  Because I had no one to rely on for company, I met some really interesting, cool people-many of whom I’d love to stay in contact with.

So I just need to throw out some names here.  If you’re reading this, and we met on CNC-email me!

Tracy and Jill from the mountains (aka Trixie and Mitzy)–you two were such a joy!  Loved the costumes, loved the riding, loved the chatting, but mostly I loved the incredibly positive attitude.  I thought I was cheerful, but you two really gave me a run for my money.  We must, must ride together again–I’ll get in touch with you next time I’m up in Edneyville.  And say hi to Plunkett for me. 

Rob and Steve–just how small is this world anyway?!  It was great to meet you guys; I hate that I didn’t actually get to ride with you more, but you two are just too strong for me.  Thanks for the good word with Bubba; it made all the difference!  We should definitely lunch sometime . . .

My fabulous Texas buddies–Ces, Mark, and David–I loved riding with you!  I’m so glad you gave our tour a try; maybe I’ll see you on another one someday.  Keep reading, Mark; our book chat was one of the highlights of my week.  I do love to talk about books (well, really I just love to talk!).  Ces, congratulations on the upcoming nuptials, and in whatever else you choose to do, remember–the sky’s the limit.  David, man, just keep eating those Oreos, and it’ll all be good!

Cindy and James from Norfolk–like I said in an earlier post, you guys went above and beyond.  But more than that, you’re just cool folks.  Anyone who can appreciate the irony of a suburban “tree protection zone” is all right in my book!  Thanks for the great ride.

And anyone else I rode with who’s reading this–email me!  There were so many great people that I’d love to keep in touch with, perhaps even ride with again . . .

Well, I’ve been home almost 48 hours now, and am still reeling a bit.  I’m finding the transition to home life a bit tricky.  We vacation a lot–I’m a real pro–but this has been a harder return than most.  I guess partly because I was by myself, instead of with my family, but also partly because it was sort of a surreal experience, just pedaling and camping and eating and chatting.  My voice is hoarse, my nose is peeling, and I think I’m still a bit dehydrated.  But my legs feel pretty good after 2 good nights’ sleep; I’m actually feeling a bit like I want to hop on my bike and go for a spin.  I just might do that if I ever get to the bottom of the laundry pile.

Friday was great.  I headed out of Smithfield with Cindy and James, from Norfolk.  Turned out we had a lot in common–they’ve done some brevets (the Sauratown 200k out of High Point, and James has even done a 300k and 400k) and other really cool cycling stuff.  I convinced them to do their good deed for the month with me.  The 32-mile rest stop was in Dudley, NC, about 200 yards from Brogden Primary School, where my mother is a kindergarten teacher.  (For the record, that stop was also about 2 miles from my high school, but 2 miles is a lot further off course than 200 yards!).  My mother’s class was away on a field trip on Friday, but the PE teacher, Mary Franklin, was there with several classes of kids, and it turns out she’s a cyclist herself–a Tour de Cure rider, as well as a bike commuter–yay for Mary!  The world needs more teachers like her.

Anyway, Cindy and James and another guy, Dale, and I took a slight detour to say hi to the PE class.  They came out and lined the driveway, cheering and clapping for us as we rode up.  We went into the gym and spoke to them for 15 or 20 minutes, and they were such great kids.  They were well-behaved, engaged, attentive, and asked great questions.  I truly enjoy sharing this passion of mine, and children relate so quickly to bicycles, that speaking to groups of kids just means the world to me.  Thank you, Mary, for having us (and for feeding us fabulous snacks!), and thank you so much to Cindy and James and Dale for joining me.  You guys went WAY above and beyond, and I appreciate it.  You did a really good thing.

Afterward, Cindy and James went on ahead, but I rode to the next rest stop with Dale, and really enjoyed chatting–at least until the skies opened up.  We got caught in a pretty torrential rain, the kind that gets whipped around by the wind so that it stings when it hits your skin.  We were both in pretty good spirits, though, and just took it in stride.  I headed out of the next rest stop ahead of Dale, and rode the last leg by myself, through the wind and rain.  I think it was a fitting end to my CNC–it was the only time I rode alone the entire week, and I had time to think about the ride, and the people, and the whole experience.  I felt strong, almost to the point of euphoric, and rode hard all the way to Kinston.  As my husband pointed out later, I do thrive on adversity.

So my dad met me in Kinston, loaded up my bike and my bag, and took me to his house, where I showered and ate and started slowly moving back into reality.  Later in the afternoon, my husband picked me up from the Cracker Barrel in Clayton.  I really hated to miss the last day into Emerald Isle, and I know the party at the end must’ve been fun, but I had to come home to see my brother graduate.  He finished the Executive MBA program and UNC-Chapel Hill, and I couldn’t miss it.  I can ride CNC again another year.  We’re proud of you, Chip. 

So now I’m home.  We had to go out immediately Friday night and buy a new washing machine–ours died while I was gone, and let me tell you–that week’s worth of smelly, soggy cycling clothes needed to be washed ASAP.  So today I’m doing laundry and buying groceries and trying to remember how to be Mom again.  I’ve taken care of no one but myself for the last week, so I need to (quickly) turn that experience into a rejuvenation, rather than just regret that it’s over.  I’m already trying to figure out how to get my husband to go with me some year in the future.  I’m also thinking about all the emotions that I brought home with me, and trying to gather all my disparate observations into something coherent.  I’ll work on that, and you can read all about it here.

After I get the laundry done. 

Again, this will have to be a short entry.  As I write this, it is 9:50 p.m., and my day needs to end soon.  Besides, it is supposed to start raining sometime after midnight, and I want to be sound asleep.  Lying awake listening to rain will just make me anxious about tomorrow’s 70 miles.

Today, though, was a bit of a break–only 52 miles.  We were still climbing some, more than many of us had expected, and it was way hot.  Add to that the fact that my legs were totally empty after riding flat out yesterday, and I was happy to have a shorter day.

Camp is an interesting place.  It is very social.  The real pleasure for me today was the fact that I finished up earlier, and with a bit more energy to spare.  So I have had time to really enjoy the atmosphere here.  I hung out in a shady spot this afternoon and chatted and read my book, and then did the same again after dinner this evening.  In between, my parents came and checked out our little tent city here, then took me out for dinner.  Thanks so much, mother and daddy, it meant a lot to me to be able to share this with you.

The other interesting thing about this is how our basic barriers of etiquette and civil behavior come down.  The shower room is a big party–everyone is so happy to be off the bike and getting clean.  And many of us are women who do not necessarily spend a lot of time in locker rooms or gyms.  We are just ordinary folks, pushing ourselves.  I have also started doing things I would never have expected of myself.  For instance, I cannot be bothered to walk all the way to the shower truck or a sink, so I just brush my teeth wherever I feel like it.  Standing out in the middle of a field of tents with bottled water–seems fine under these circumstances.  I don’t know–that is just what is on my mind this evening.

Some sort of squeaking winged creature keeps flying overhead; do bats make noise?

I have (sort of) embraced the ethos of the tour.  Yesterday we rode about 70 miles again, and it took me ALL DAY.  Now that I’m in the Bubba Zone, I feel no pressure to go racing to camp to get my tent set up so that it can dry out.  Bubba and his minions do that for me.  So yesterday I just took my time, and a fabulous time it was.  Our route took us from Tanglewood Park in Clemmons down to Burlington, and the towns along the route pulled out all the stops to make us feel welcome.  Thomasville, in particular, was amazing.  Apparently, the town has long relied on the furniture industry, which in the recent past has moved to other parts of the world.  So now Thomasville is working hard to make a name for themselves in other ways, and they really outdid themselves for us yesterday.

The town council welcomed us in on the streets, the mayor was shaking hands and giving out lapel pins, an 80-year-old grandma was giving hugs, and several other people were doing massages.  There was delicious soup, lots of soda and snacks, and even a giant chair for us to take pictures of.   So I dawdled and hung out and generally soaked up the good will in the wonderful little town.

And that was early on in the day.  We also went through Pleasant Garden, where all the corners were marked with friendly folks welcoming us to town, and a creamery north of Burlington, where we all got scoops of fabulous fresh ice cream.  It was a long and very yummy day.

But today was a bit different.  My daughter’s class took a field trip today, to our 50-mile rest stop.  I had to be there to meet them for a picnic lunch at 11:30, so I had to get up early and get moving in a hurry.  I left camp at 8:15 and rode as hard as I could all morning.  I found lots of friendly folks to draft off of (several folks, when I explained why I was pushing myself so hard, actually volunteered to pull me–thanks, everyone), and really whittled down my rest stop to the bare minimum:  refill the water bottle, stuff a snack in a pocket, and eat while rolling.  At 30 miles I ran into my fabulous friends from Moore County, and they knocked themselves out to get me, literally, to the church on time!  Extra big thanks to Patrick, Ken, and Rick.  You guys rock.

And we got there just as the carpool caravan pulled up.  I was so thrilled to see them.  They brought me lunch, and we hung out for about an hour, touring the rest stop and talking to cyclists and cheering people on as they got back on the road.  Thank you, Heartwood Upper Elementary, for being so well-behaved and so encouraging to all of us cyclists.  I was so happy to see you!

Anyway, after they left I headed back out, and got into camp in pretty good time, even after that long stop.  All in all, it was a fantastic day.

Now I’m actually at my house.  My crew came and got me and took me to dinner, and now we’re headed back to camp to hear tonight’s band and let them soak up the atmosphere a little bit before bed.  I’m going to stay in my Bubba tent tonight–if I sleep in my own bed, I’ll never get going tomorrow!

Aaack! It is 7:30 in the morning on Wednesday, and I did not have time to write last night.  I decided sleep was more important.  I need to get on the road now so I can make it to the 50 miles rest stop by lunch time, so that I can see the Heartwood Montessori fourth grade class and my daughter Delaney at their picnic lunch.  I will write more later today.  Bye.