Okay, I know I said I wouldn’t post while under the influence of cold meds, BUT I have got to share this with you guys. It’s official. My group of friends have all agreed (mostly all anyway) to ride with me in the Tour de Cure this year for ADA. I rode alone last year — yes they sent me out as the scout. I came back alive and so they’ve decided if I didn’t die, neither will they. That and the sub-culture at my husband’s office is one of physical fitness and it seems everyone and their grand-kids signed up this year —
Because I didn’t know what to expect, I only rode 10 miles last year — this year I’ve signed up for 25. All road, no trail that I know of . YIPES. (put paper sack over face, breathe deep, I can do this!) Most of the team will hang at the 25 mark because this is their first ride for ADA. My base is presently at about ten miles, all trails, zero road. I need to up that over the next ten weeks or so in order to get ready — and ready I will be. I have to be ready, I’m the team captain for heaven sake. I mean how would it look if the captain dies mid route?
It would look bad.
Granted these riders are pros. They know what they are doing. They really just needed me to co-ordinate everything for them. I’m like the Wedding Planner only cooler. All they have to do is train and show up — I got the rest.
I have not ridden 25 or more consecutive miles on a bike since that day back in 1989 where Jeff (my then boy friend, now husband) tried to kill me. I still did not know my way around Chicago so when he suggested we take a “fun bike ride” from Niles IL to the Botanical Gardens, I had no idea how far it was.
I spent the night sleeping on the floor of my apartment with every muscle in my body seizing up because that was where I landed when we got back and getting up was not possible. I couldn’t walk right for a week. I should add, I was also in my best physical shape possible, weighing in at a whopping 124 pounds. I ran cable and installed PBX systems for a living. I rocked. And I still almost died.
And here I am ready to do it again — some 24 years later. HA This time, I’ll be prepared. This time I’m training. This time I have to because I don’t weigh 124 lbs anymore. My “diet” took a fun turn in December and January while I blew off some much-needed steam. (Translated, I decided to throw a major temper tantrum) I may have over enjoyed my newly discovered friends: Zacapa Rum, and Glen’s Fiddich and Livet, My Irish Friend Jameson and my new favorite girlfriend Miss Tequila Rose with a splash of Baileys. I also discovered yummy smoothies made with avocado, cucumbers and coconut milk that probably pack half a days calories per pinch as well. While my calorie intake from food remained at 1,300-1,500, I’m afraid my beverage consumption offset that terribly.
Explaining to my doctor on Monday why I didn’t lose the ten pounds he suggest I lose two months ago was awkward and embarrassing. He used the word “moderation” and I’m like okay, yeah, probably a good idea at this point. Alcohol has a lot of empty calories and I can either continue to be a brat or I can suck it up, find my resolve to get back in shape and start again. I’m not a heavy drinker, never have been, I just didn’t pay attention to the caloric intake and I’m paying for it with my lack of weight loss.
My temper tantrum is over.
I used to be an athlete.
I used to be a model.
I’m neither of those things today.
I’m not used to having to work at it. At least I didn’t consider it work when I was competing at Shaolin and Tai Chi. It was just fun.
Guess I need to learn how.
Now is as good a day as any.