Chased by dogs and waited for chickens

On March 15th, I turned 29, which was something I was dreading for awhile. My goal before my birthday was to ride a real ride, something more in the double digits range. I wanted to prove to myself that I could handle more mileage, especially with the Tulsa Tough coming up in the beginning of June. I wanted to know that I could do at least a 50k (just about 32 miles); I wanted to be proud of me. At this moment in my cycling career, I just say that I finished. I will be working more on speed and time during the next ride; unfortunately with the inches of white stuff on the ground, I am not sure when the next ride will actually be.

The day before my birthday, Bret and I decided to do the ride that he had taken with our friend's cycling group the previous week. He kept telling me that I would love the scenery and be able to ride the streets but "not have to dodge 42,000 cars". (I think Bret has an obsession with the number 42,000 but that's for another blog, lol). While we were driving out to our launching spot, we tried to mentally map it so our mileage would total about 50k. We were going to weave our away around the Tulsa and Bixby countryside and end up in Mounds (a.k.a. the middle of nowhere). Bret wanted to pick up a snack at the lone grocery store/hangout.

I was getting myself mentally prepared for the trip, really questioning myself whether or not I could handle it. Every other ride we took was sub 10 miles, averaging 8.5. Bret reminded me that I proved myself wrong back in 2005 and did a 12 mile hike at Opal Creek in Oregon when I wanted to give up. He said that I don't quit even when I feel like all hope is gone. With him instilling that confidence in me, I knew that I could do it. I got my face and arms covered in globs of SPF 48 sunblock; my skin is so fair that I didn't want to end up looking like the surface of the sun.

While Bret was putting the bike trailer together and I snapped a few shots of him doing it, I was continuing to get myself mentally prepared. When it was time to go, we started our trek. We crossed the bridge going on Memorial crossing over the Arkansas River, and then the trail winds its way underneath the bridge. For a split second I thought I was going to smack my head along the side of the bridge but thankfully the bridge was just  playing tricks on me and it was a lot taller crossing over the trail then at first glance. We zigged and zagged across Bixby and I kept thinking that it would be amazing to live out that way. Along this part of the trip, we were surprised by two mixed breed dogs running off their property right at us, wanting to try and nip at our wheels. Bret relieved my stress and  finally got them to go back home. I absolutely loved the fact that we were able to ride side-by-side and talk. I felt like I was doing rather well but after awhile, my bum was absolutely killing me despite the fact I was wearing my padded shorts. I told Bret that I needed to stop. I got off my seat and instantly I felt better. A moment later, I started back on the bike and we made our way out to the grocery store. We passed fields of countless cows and horses, all probably wondering what we were doing, trying to figure out why we weren't spending our Sunday afternoon sitting in the grass, just grazing.

A little bit more into the trip -- and after a few more times being chased by dogs -- I was starting to really wonder if we were ever going to hit this grocery store...and if there even was a grocery store. Bret was a few bicycle lengths ahead of me but then had to wait as I had to stop for a group of chickens trying to figure out whether or not they should cross the road. I was getting hungry by this point and called out to them, "Hey, if you don't cross the street NOW, I am going to make lunch out of one of you." I guess this incited them and they scurried across the street, clucking insults back at me. Bret got me excited a moment later pointing at a building he thought was the grocery store but it was just a little house. I gave him a look that meant I am going to kill him; I quietly cursed him but kept at the riding. About 10 minutes later, he stopped again but started to dance. "What?" I asked. He pointed at a blue roof and said, "That's the store. I am serious!" I only half believed him but thankfully he was correct.

When we arrived at the store (about mile 18), Bret and Liam went inside and I waited outside with our gear. The boys came out a few minutes later toting a grocery bag. We ate our lunch and I slowly sipped the chocolate Muscle Milk that they bought for me. I stretched a little bit and noticed that Bret was taking pictures of me doing so. We started back on the voyage into some strong, aggressive Oklahoma-style headwinds. Like most cyclists, I hate headwinds with a passion and was cursing them every pedal of the way. All of a sudden, my gut was on fire and I just couldn't figure out why. While riding, I felt like everything was against me and I was getting incredibly frustrated. Bret knew that I would be over it and patiently just waited while I grunted and groaned. We zigged and zagged some more trying to stay with crosswinds instead of the headwinds. Unfortunately, we got to the point where we couldn't use the crosswinds anymore and just sucked it up.

I was getting so excited when we were getting closer to our starting point, surroundings were becoming familiar. The welcoming bridge was becoming a focal point. If I cross the bridge and land at our van, I would have pulled a 50k. I think at this point, everything was becoming a reality and I just started to really give it my all. I pedaled faster and harder and after a few more cranks, I was crossing that bridge. I told the river that even though it was looking beautiful, I couldn't stay and chat. A few more cranks later and I was off that bridge and just seconds away from finishing and then BAM!

I couldn't believe that I actually accomplished a 50k. Since this was my first time accomplishing such a huge feat, I was not focusing so much on time. I just wanted to complete it. I wanted to give up when the stomach pain and headwinds were wreaking havoc on me, but I got over it. However, with that said, a few expletives escaped my mouth. Bret used to this side of me, didn't say anything and knew that I would be quickly over it.

My butt was a bit on the sore side as was my knee. The park was empty and I just laid down in the parking spot next to our van trying to get my breath back and soak up a few rays. (In case you are curious why I didn't lie down in the grass behind me, I am a little allergic to it). Bret snapped a couple photos of this as well. Note: You do not need to adjust the color on your monitor. My legs really are that pale and now I am thinking that maybe I should get some tan-in-a-can.