The last weekend in October I did something I have never done before in my whole life. I rode 40 miles on my bike. I should have nothing but pride in myself for this ride, and while I really enjoyed the ride, I can’t help feeling like I could have/should have done better.
Let’s state the facts here:
- I started riding my bike Mid-September. In fact prior to than I didn’t even own a bike.
- Having only been riding for 1.5 months, I had never ridden further than 20 miles at one time.
- Thanks to late night nerves and a restless toddler, I set my alarm but didn’t actually turn it on. (I usually rely on my son to wake me up.)
- I was supposed to be at the park at 7:15am for an 8am start time. Thanks to the previously mentioned alarm snafu I arrived at 8:05am.
- I have never participated in a bike ride event before.
- Not even 50 feet after starting 2 police officers (directing traffic) send me in the opposite direction of the route.
- I rode about 2 miles before I realized I hadn’t seen anyone, or any signs.
- I turned around.
- I was going to just to the 20 miler.
- I was convinced I could still do the 40.
- The first 20 miles were pretty awesome.
- Miles 21-27 were the most intense hills I have ever done.
- I pushed through and made it up the hill, albeit very slowly.
- Mile 28 I thought I had it in the bag.
- Mile 29 I thought I was going to cry. Okay, I did cry.
- Mile 32 I missed my husband and found myself longing for him and my son to be at the finish line.
- Mile 35 I encountered a drunk on a bike (which was much too small for him), who scared the crap out of me and called me an “F&%#ing Road wh@re”.
- Somewhere between miles 35 and 36 I got lost again.
- I suddenly found myself where I was 4 miles prior.
- I called for a ride.
- I NEVER crossed the finish line.
- I cried in front of a ton of strong women.
- I felt like a failure.
- I rode over 40 miles for the first time ever.
While I am 100% sure I rode closer to 45 miles that day, I am still beating myself up for not crossing the finish line. To me, I feel like it was a failed ride. Instead of focusing on the fact that I beat those hills, and rode further than I have ever rode before, I focus on one line.
I am letting that one line get in the way of me accomplishing something I never thought prior to about a month ago I would do!
What do you do when a race/ride/event disappoints you?
This may have been my first ride, but it will NOT be my last. The feeling I get when I am riding alone on my bike is something I have longed for in the years since my diving days.
It is peaceful and powerful.
Personal and promising.
Next year when the Goldilocks comes to town I will be riding the 60.
Next year I will have more experience under my belt.
Next year I will cross the finish line.
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