Ulcer Century Ride

It's strange and exciting how "chance" encounters change or introduce new ideas that expand the vision, even the possibilities of the course of one's life. Friday morning as I was nearing the end of my ride, I experienced one such encounter. I was only a half a mile from home and stopped at a red light waiting to make a left turn. A white car pulled up next to me also turning left. The window rolled down and the driver, a middle aged man, yelled something to me. I turned down my ipod and asked him to repeat himself as I didn't hear.

He asked if I was doing the century ride the next day and told me that he had just registered for it. I told him that I hadn't heard about it. I asked him where it was and how long it takes him to complete it. He told me that it was 110 miles around Utah Lake and said he hadn't done it before as he was new to cycling. I wished him luck as the light turned green.

Prior to that moment, I had not thought of doing such a ride, but by the time I got home two minutes later, I could see myself completing it. Shawn was out front as I pulled in the driveway and I told him all about it. He pulled out his iphone and within seconds, had all the details of the century ride. That was it. I was committed. Shawn was too. I never would have thought I would enter such a ride. Something of that nature had never appealed to me before. Thinking back to the twenty five mile ride Shawn coaxed me into doing in April; I smiled at how much trepidation I had about it, wondering if I could finish it, and how much I've improved since then. Now that my daily rides are at least twenty five miles, a one hundred and ten mile ride seemed totally possible.

The day before, I told Shawn that I eventually wanted to get a new bike with more gears and better performance capacity. As I've now put almost 3000 miles on my beginner "Specialized Dolce," I have topped out its performance ability. For a higher level of progression, I'd need to start out on the low end of a better bike. On Friday afternoon, Shawn asked me to go for a drive with him to run some errands. We went to the bike shop and he had me try out a couple of professional womens' bicycles for fun. After I'd tried a few, and as we were leaving the shop, he said "So what do you think? Do you want to get it?" He was referring to the beautiful red and white "Specialized Amira" I tried last, the women's version of the bike that just won "Tour de France."

Despite my protests, and needless to say, he was all too excited to buy it for me. He was beaming as much as I was as we lifted it into the back of the truck. I was as giddy as a kid on Christmas. Shawn insisted I run and grab my cycling shoes and give it a try as soon as we got home.

Saturday morning, Shawn and I entered the "Ulcer Century Ride" together. The course started at Thanksgiving Point in Lehi, UT and generally followed Utah Lake down through Provo, Springville, Spanish Fork, Lake Shore, Benjamin and to the furthest reaches of Utah county in Goshen. I was ashamed to say that I grew up in Payson, and had never been around the backside of West Mountain to Goshen, Genola or Elberta.

2100 riders culminated at the start and were released in groups of 100 riders every ten minutes from 6:30 AM. Our start time was 7:30 AM. It is always thrilling to gather with such a large group of others who are united in the same positive purpose, whether it be cycling, pursuing an education, or communing with God in a worship service.

Within the first fifteen miles, the pack thinned out as the ability and experience of each rider advanced, or slowed them in contrast to the other riders. The first food/water stop was at the twenty five mile mark. We refilled our water bottles, loaded our jersey pockets with snacks, and had the best tasting peanut butter and jelly sandwich I've ever eaten. There were many riders at the first stop and a general feeling of excitement was present.

Fifteen miles later, the mid morning sun was blazing pretty hard by our next water stop. We stopped at the fringe of Palmyra and Lake Shore to again refill our water bottles. Shawn took off his helmet and doused his head with water, at the same time devouring a cup of ice. By this time, we'd seen a lot of dismounted bicycles as flat tires and other minor accidents forced riders off the road. We too had a ten minute delay earlier on, as Shawn got a flat tire in the East Bay area of Provo.

A strong south wind started picking up as we headed for our lunch destination at the fifty mile mark at Lincoln Beach in Lake Shore. As we were traveling south for a bit, we got to push into some strongish head winds, watching our average speed drop from 20-22 mph to 14-15 mph. By this time we'd seen mountains, farmland, swamps, and were again coming alongside the lake. We stopped at the top of the hill overlooking Lincoln Beach and took these pics.


It was here that I discovered my phone was no longer working. I could hear it ringing, and dinging signifying new calls and texts, but the screen was blacked out. Shawn said it was a sign that I needed to get an iphone like his and Aura's and Christian's. I love my blackberry though, and wasn't trying to kill it, but I think it received too much moisture from riding against by back for fifty miles.

The number of other riders who culminated at the lunch spot, when we were there, had reduced by half or more since the first stop. There were many riders with their shoes off, sprawled on the grass under shaded pavilions. Talk of fatigue, sore muscles, and an appreciation for a plate of pasta marinara seemed to be the conversation I heard the most. I also started to hear some negative and gloomy conjectures as many realized that they were not, technically, yet to the halfway point of the 110 mile ride. Shawn suggested we keep our stop brief before our muscles cooled and stiffness set in. We rolled out again within twenty minutes again fueled, water refilled, and our pockets full of snacks.

The next five miles, as we rounded the lake, were rather enjoyable. We laughed and marveled at the beauty of the lake, sky, and mountains. We played and took pics of each other with Shawn's iphone as we rode. This playfulness and the positivity it produced, was just what we needed to rely on, as the level of difficulty suddenly and unexpectedly increased on the backside of West Mountain.

Dark and brooding clouds rolled in accompanied by strong gusts of wind. Gusts of 60+ mph pounded us, threatening to tip our bikes. Many riders were dismounted and sitting, or walking their bicycles. Our average speed dropped to 7-9 mph over a 12 mile section of the ride through Goshen and Genola. I don't mind pushing into headwinds, but the crosswinds are the most dreaded and dangerous. It appeared that all the riders were tilted several degrees as the winds bent the straight line trajectory we tried to maintain. I watched as riders all around me opted out of the ride, instead choosing to rack their bikes on a support truck and climb in back to be shuttled back to the start. I too mentally explored the possibility of quitting, before grasping the hope of the realization that if I could keep pushing on through the crosswinds, I'd eventually meet up with Highway 68 and turn north. At that juncture, those strong south and brutal winds would be beneficial to me as they would then be at my back. I bent lower on the handle bars and committed myself to reach Highway 68.

My mantra became 68, 68, 68, as I tried to apply some sort of cadence to it to keep turning the pedals. Headphones weren't allowed as per the rules of the ride and it was there I realized how important music really is as a tool of motivation and a source of strength, as it can be such a connection to the Divine. I sang to myself as it was my only option. The winds continued to increase and our forward progress dropped again markedly as our average speed dropped to 5 mph. I found myself thinking about my Hugenot, Pilgrim, and Pioneer ancestry and the difficulties they faced and how my little ride was so miniscule in comparison. I also thought of the Tour de France, that consists of 21 back to back days of 110 mile rides and how it is a competitive race where every moment demands top performance. Surely I could finish this one little ride.

With three miles to the next food/water stop at the 70 mile mark, we passed a gas station in Genola where a family sat in lawn chairs out front. They did the wave as we passed and cheered loudly for us. I thanked them as we passed as their encouragement really helped me keep going. We were so excited to see that the food/water stop we reached was located at the corner of the intersection marking Highway 68!

By this time, we had burned over 4500 calories and were so grateful to refuel and start heading north. Again, we alotted twenty minutes at the stop and returned to the road. Just as we expected, the fierce wind at our backs propelled our average speed to 25-30 mph. For a stretch of twenty miles, it felt as though we were flying.
We started to notice that many single riders had their own "support vehicles" as cars full of family and friends sidled up next to them offering encouragement, food, or water. I thought of how crucial and beneficial real life support is to any and every person, whether it comes from loved ones in this mortal sphere or from the spirit world beyond. I also felt grateful to be riding along side Shawn, undertaking the challenge together.

With every revolution of the pedals, my gratitude for health, vitality and physical capacity, and for the opportunity to ride, surged through me. Several times the mental clarity I achieved, coupled with strong physical exertion, produced the sensation of chills over my entire body. I love that feeling. I especially love the tingling in my face and particularly my lips, after I have been sprinting up a hill in an anaerobic push to the top. When I again return to my seat and my regular breathing pattern, a rush of oxygen flows back into my face causing a sublime, even spiritual catharsis.

My mind rolled over many truths I've often pondered while riding. I thought of the power of attitude. When I am faced with strong winds, steep hills, or cold or daunting weather while riding, I smile. Months ago, it occurred to me that I had the power to influence all I publicly encountered from other cyclists, and passersby, to the motorists alongside me. I could create a positive or negative feeling associated with cycling in the minds of those people through the expressions and demeanor I chose. I consciously decided to wear a smile. Granted, sometimes it is broad and toothy, and sometimes faint and demure, but always a smile. I've swallowed a few bugs on those broad and toothy days, but it was worth it, I think. I would hate to discourage someone from taking up such an enjoyable and challenging pursuit by making it look miserable. This is also how I choose to do life. I want my love of it and my gratitude for it, to be easily recognizable and contagious.

By the time we reached the final water stop and ten miles to the finish, just a handful of other cyclists were present. It was blustery and dark clouds threatened rain. We took ten minutes to snack and collect ourselves mentally for the final push to the finish. That final stretch seemed the longest. It was there I experienced a real appreciation for endurance and what it means. I thought of all the elderly people I know and how the storms of life have crushed down on them over the duration of their years. The measure of endurance they have achieved through life's difficulties is commendable. I too hope to emulate the positivity and strength so many family members, friends, and mentors both young and old, have shown me by the example of their lives.

Six hours and forty two minutes and 6500 calories burned since the start, we crossed the finish line. We kept riding until we reached the awaiting pasta buffet. Fettucini Alfredo and bread sticks never tasted so good. I was glad to have arrived, but saddened that the number of riders finishing had decreased so much since the start. I was again reminded and convicted of the work I have to do to continue educating, inspiring and uniting my family. It is my greatest desire to achieve this purpose; to endure out the difficulties of life, to finish strong, and together.

I think I will do another century ride. It was enjoyable and worth it. Perhaps I am training for something bigger, a cross country ride some years in the future...