Experience AIDS/LifeCycle 4 (2005)

Why I Ride

I ride for two reasons. First, my family is from Kenya and AIDS is devastating over there in sub-Saharan Africa, and we’ve lost several family members to AIDS.

Second, I ride for myself. There have been several times that I haven’t been able to accomplish something physically because of my body and I wanted to prove to myself that I could do something like this … I guess I can because I’m on the ride!

Day 1 - San Francisco to Aptos

84.9 miles… Wow. I don’t even know if I have the words to describe this awesome feeling that I have. I have been smiling pretty much the whole day… except on the hills of course. Today I woke up at 4:00 am (fun, fun, fun) took a shower, put on my jersey (yea… plug for Shifting Gears Cycling :-) :-) ), arm warmers, leg warmers, bandana, and shoes and packed everything all up. Well, I thought I packed everything up (I had the nagging suspicion that I left my shower slippers behind… and of course time would prove me right, but I digress).

I head over to the Cow Palace to check in our bags and participate in Opening Ceremonies. I have to make sure that I have everything I need for the road because once my bag is loaded… it’s gone. Opening Ceremonies was great. To see the emotion of people who have had loved ones die from the disease, to see their tears as the Riderless cycle passed by, just brought out the enormity of what we are riding for so clearly. It was the beginning of what has been an awesome day.

We start off from the Cow Palace and immediately following the first turn is a… lovely… hill (argggh), one of numerous hills that we would encounter. Yep… 0.3 miles in, and according to our route map instructions, “Begin climbing.” Rather depressing. I really should have expected this. There is this one videoclip from AIDS/LifeCycle 3 that has one rider saying while on Quadbuster (another hill that we’ll get to on Day 3), “I’m from San Francisco… this is nothing.” Well I’m not from San Francisco! :-)

But I handle the hill ok and I get to the first Rest Stop. I am running into so many people that I have met on training rides, it’s amazing. The route was pretty uneventful until a short steep hill on Trousdale Ave. I turn the corner and… great, there it is: an infamous “nlg” or “nasty little grunt” (a phrase coined by a couple of my ride leaders), which is a really steep but usually (and hopefully) short hill that is simply not fun.

I hated these while training. For many training rides I couldn’t even ride them, I would have to walk up them with my bike. I shift into my granny gear and just ride and eventually I’m at the top. I can’t believe it… there is a reason that I had to suffer through them in March… so I can do them in June. This would become the theme of the day.

After the water stop (before which there was a pretty bad accident so I hope whoever was involved is ok), we begin a 1.8-mile climb on Hwy 92. Ok Rachel, you can do this. This is why you did Granvia Altamira, Bundy, Benedict Canyon, and PV East (all hills in the LA area, all several times) while training. I get into my granny gear and go… just breathe Rachel, breathe, breathe, breathe. I’m passing people who are walking up, but for me, that’s not the point. I want to do this. I can do this. I will do this.

I get to the top and I’m so happy that the hill is done, but what tops it off for me is when another rider comes up to me when I’m taking a water break before the downhill reward and says that seeing me ride up that hill so strongly made her jealous. I was speechless. I said thanks… but inside a thousand fireworks were going off inside of me. Not even 3 months ago I was stopping numerous times on hills because I didn’t have the strength to ride hills like this. And people are now impressed by me? After that I was just undone… I wanted to give a big hug to Bob, Devin, Martin, Carole, Brian, and Beth (the training ride leaders for the training rides that I did weekly) and say that I’m so grateful. Yes, you put me through the ringer on the training rides (well… I have to be honest :) ) but, yes, thank you so much for being there for me because I could not have done this without you.

The rest of the way was great (there really is too much to remember)… filled with hills, but hills that I could do. The last rest stop theme was Dollywood, which was a riot. When we got in, I was greeted by so many people, it was awesome.

When thinking of a way to describe the day I really couldn’t. There are so many things that this Ride is comprised of: Caring, selflessness, friendship, pain, sorrow, hope, loss, and life. Yesterday I was so worried about if I was going to make it into camp on time. Today, I didn’t even think about that. If someone was pulled over, I wouldn’t hesitate to stop to help (I even did… but unfortunately I couldn’t help that much).

There is such a sense of community it just liberates you to be you and people will accept you, cheer for you, laugh and cry with you, and take care of you. It’s an ultimate utopia… It’s love. I can’t believe I get to experience this for another six days.

Day 2 - Aptos to King City

98.7 miles… Today was a mentally/emotionally tough day. The mileage (to my and probably your surprise) didn’t concern me, because I had ridden a century ride and was able to complete it in 10-11 hours. So I had this whole plan of how the day was going to go. I mean I had this nailed down for a few weeks now: I would wake up by 5, get ready, and roll out by 6:30. It would take me 10 or so hours to finish the route since it was to be pretty flat (hmmph… I don’t think so) and I would get in around 4:30 to 5. I would have enough time to enjoy the route, enjoy the pit stops, and have enough time in camp to relax and go to bed. Easy, right?? We’ll, things didn’t exactly go according to plan. But it has a happy ending.

I woke up and it was daylight… and I’m thinking, oh shoot, it has to be after 6:00 am now. Yep, it was 6:15… so much for my plan… but I’m still optimistic. The Santa Barbara Century has us leaving at 8:00 am and I was back by 6:30. So I can do this.

I finally roll out of camp by 8:00 am, and I’m doing well. Not speeding, but well.

I get to the first pit stop at about 9:50 and that’s right on pace. I eat, get water, use the restroom and then get ready to go. I ride about six miles and there is the artichoke stand that people stop at every year. Two conflicting thoughts occurred in my head. The first was that I really shouldn’t stop because I am already behind my schedule and I can’t afford to waste any more time. The second was that I really want to experience all of the Ride and this is part of it.

The latter wins… I pull over for some fresh fried (oxymoron, right?) artichokes, and when I’m done I ask for the time… it is 11 am. And I’m thinking… oh no… we have 75 miles to go and 8 hours in which to do it. And the terrain isn’t all flat. I really have to get out of here.

From that moment on I was in panic mode. I was constantly asking what time is it, what time is it, because I was afraid of getting swept. And it just got worse from there. At Rest stop 2 it was noon, and now I have 7 hours in which to do 70 miles. At Lunch I rolled in at 12:45 pm, rolled out at 1:00. Now I have 6 hours in which to do 60 miles, and so on.

There was no time for enjoyment or conversation because I had to make it through the day… and that was exactly the problem. I couldn’t relax and enjoy myself. I was getting so stressed out about beating the sweep team that I didn’t fully experience the ride. Between Lunch and Rest stop 3 (I decided to skip the Restroom Stop), I rode like a maniac at 13-14 miles an hour (well, for most people on the ride that’s kind of slow, but for me, that’s fast) and rode 20 miles in 1.5 hours. I’m thinking, ok, things are going a bit better.

Yea right. The road was horrible. It was so bumpy… and that is not good because I’m already chafing, so I was really starting to get frustrated. My bike is having problems. My left shifter was not working; it was so tight that I had to use my right hand to downshift from my 3rd chain ring to my 2nd chain ring, which is not a good idea. I’m hearing a whistling noise on my bike that I have been noticing for the past few weeks and several times I have taken it to the store where I bought it to have it fixed (brand-new bike only 5 months old) and they have no idea how to fix it.

I’m hearing “on your left” so many times that seriously tomorrow, I am going to wear a sign on my back saying “On my left… Just go!!!” so that I don’t have to deal with it. I mean yesterday it was fine but today hearing it combined with the added pressure of making it into camp by 7:00 pm drove me nuts.

The crosswinds were crazy. I have to fight to stay on the road and in a semi-straight line. At one point some kind lady (I apologize to whomever this was) asks me if I was ok (and I happened to be climbing a hill which is really really NOT a good time to talk to me… but she didn’t know that), and I say “I’m fine” in a voice that is totally “not fine.”

As soon as she passed me I said to myself, you know, you really aren’t fine… you are frustrated, losing it and should have just said it. I had been by myself since 11 am on the road, grounding into my head that you had to make it into camp by 7, and that you need to go faster, and that you can’t dawdle at the rest stops, that you have ride as technically as you can, that you have to fly down the downhills so that you can make up the time you spent sleeping, try to go up the uphills in the highest gear that was safely possible so that you don’t lose any more time. I was driving myself crazy.

I pulled into what I thought was rest stop 4, and when it wasn’t I was really about to self-implode. Luckily at Rest Stop 4 I ran into Mike, who I met on the Cubby’s training rides in LA. He asked how I was doing and I told him… I’m so mentally out of it, I need a hug. And he gave me one. He offered to ride with me to the end and I took him up on it. It was so great. There were still hills, bumps and about 15 miles to go, but I had someone to share the frustration with, to talk to, instead of sulking by myself and wallowing in how behind I was.

I even stopped to take a picture or the rolling hills behind us and I wasn’t upset that I was wasting more time, I was happy and just enjoying the moment.

When we rolled into camp I had to stop and say thank you so much for just being there, because I had had it up to here with today’s ride before I ran into him. I guess the lesson for today was that the spirit of companionship and friendship is so important on the ride, and in the fight against AIDS. What is so hard for one person to handle alone can be accomplished easily with the help of a friend. Thank you Mike. (And tomorrow… I really do have to get up at 5! :-)

Day 3 - King City to Paso Robles

75.2 miles… Today was overwhelming… and in a great way. I don’t think I have had a more emotional day than today in a long time. Today was the infamous Quadbuster, a 1.3-mile, very steep hill that I had been dreading since the first day I heard about it. It certainly lived up to its expectation, but I surpassed mine.

Today I was very vigilant about getting up early. I woke up first at 5:00 am, in theory hit the snooze (since I don’t have an alarm clock it just means I went back to bed) and finally really woke up at 5:30. I changed into the day’s riding outfit, went to eat breakfast and eventually rolled out at about 7:15. Not quite 6:30, but ok.

However, on the road I just felt so slow. Maybe it was the early hills, maybe it was just soreness from yesterday’s century, but I started to get worried again. I started thinking if these early hills are kicking my rear what is Quadbuster going to do to me? I roll into rest stop 1 and it is already 9:30, which means it took me more than 2 hours to do less than 20 miles. Great. I fuel up and hydrate and then get going. One interesting note: Everyone was talking about Quadbuster, but no one was talking about the hill to get to Quadbuster, which is a significant hill in itself of about 2 or so miles. By the time “the fun begins,” I’m already in my granny gear, and getting beat up by the climbing.

Ok, “I can do this” I say to myself. I try singing Celine Dion’s “I’m Alive,” which has become my theme song over the many training months for getting through difficult hills… but that doesn’t work. In a few minutes I’m too exhausted to both sing and breathe. I try my mantra, “Breathe, Rachel, Breathe.”

But I get too tired to even talk. I warn people, please don’t try to talk to me (with no offense), because I won’t be listening… I just can’t. I’m swerving left and right trying to stay on my bike, and one of the people helping me up tells me to try and keep my handlebars straight so I don’t swerve. I say “I’m trying!”

I’m so tired, I’m hurting so badly and I don’t want to stop, that finally I just break down halfway up the hill and just start crying. Yep… as I’m climbing the rest of the way I’m just bawling… there are so many people around me supporting me it’s amazing. I stand up a few times while on my bike but don’t lose my balance and just keep going.

I don’t know what took over but something did… and as I got to the top the tears of pain turned into tears of joy, relief, and thanks for everyone who helped me get up that hill; Varna, Teri, and some guy who I don’t even know. I got and gave hugs to everyone at the top and was crying for another 10 minutes at least. It was unbelievable. The sense of support, accomplishment, togetherness, compassion around me, what a life-changing experience.

The rest of the day was a breeze. I think even at that point, I wouldn’t have cared if I had been swept, because I had experienced so much raw emotion on Quadbuster that I was content with being done. I flew down to the next pit stop and from then on the day was great. There were a few more hills, but none that I couldn’t handle. The road was bumpy, but today I could deal with it. I met up with Mike again at lunch and had an awesome ride to camp. I was just having so much fun. The Sound of Music theme at Rest Stop 4 was hilarious, and the live puppet show was a riot. Today was simply awesome… that’s all I can to say.

Day 4 - Paso Robles to Santa Maria

Paso Robles to Santa Maria (no Michael Jackson jokes please :-) )… 98.7 miles… Freakin’ torture. This is going to be short and maybe not so sweet. Again today was a mentally tough day… it really sucked the whole way through. I got to the point where I literally screamed out loud, “I want to be freaking done with this.” And not in such a nice way.

Today started out ok. After a not-so-good night’s sleep, I woke up at 4:30am to get ready for the ride out today. Today was going to be a long day and in addition we had two evil hills to do… the Evil Twins. I eat, stretch and actually roll out at about 6:45 am. Very nice! This should give me plenty of time to enjoy the views, get up the hills, and just relax and have an overall great day.

Again, hmmph. As I’m getting to the Evil Twins I’m starting to get really sore on my rear. And not the normal sore. Apparently the seams of my shorts are rubbing against my butt, and it is getting to the point where I really don’t want to sit down. It hurts sooooo much, and it’s something that I hadn’t ever experienced before. Maybe someone who is more experienced could have handled it better but I was getting so frustrated. This was messing up my entire day. I had to stop about 10 times to adjust my shorts. I even tried putting my arm warmers in my shorts to try and stop the burning. Didn’t work. I went to medical to put this Dura-Derm on my butt to try and stop the burning. That didn’t work. In fact, it made it worse because since it was stuck to my skin, it would hurt when I pulled on my shorts. Arrrrgggh!!!!!

By lunch I was so ready to be done and it was only 2:00 pm. And I had 50 miles to go. Here comes the pressure! I’m so miserable… not enjoying anything, feeling rushed, physically tired, cold (because I wasn’t about to put my arm warmers back considering where they had been)… that in between Rest stop 3 and Rest stop 4 I just scream… “I want to be f---ing done with this… I don’t want to be here right now. I’m going to be swept, it feels like I didn’t train enough, because even though I left at 6:45 am I’m not going to make by 7 pm.” And I didn’t. Oh well. I guess I made it still.

And a reminder, people, please, I know everyone is trying to be nice, but just don’t try to talk to me when I’m on a hill… It just doesn’t work. I can’t do it. I can’t act happy when I’m really not having fun. And hills… are definitely not fun. Thankfully tomorrow is short… I need the rest. I just want to go to bed.

Day 5 - Santa Maria to Lompoc

42.7 miles… It feels like this ride has been a roller coaster of good days, bad days. Day 1 - freaking awesome. Day 2 - in the gutter. Day 3 - Simply amazing, so deep. Day 4 - I was officially in cranky b-tch mode. Today - went surprisingly well … even though today was the most climbing that I had done on the ride. And for me… saying that a day with climbing went great is a really big deal.

Knowing that today was going to be a short day really helped. I could sleep in (until 6 - geez… I can’t believe waking up at 6 is considered late), relax, and take my time. 42.7 miles… yeah there are about 5 miles of good climbing, but overall I should be done by the early afternoon.

I was really slow out of camp… it was about 9.5 miles and it took me about and hour and 20 minutes to get there. However, at rest stop 1 I met a great roadie at bike tech named Tyson, who — when no mechanic could — finally figured out what the humming noise on my bike was. Thank you!!!

I rode out and here come the hills. Today I wasn’t even considerate if people tried to talk to me while I was climbing. “Hi, how are you?” They would ask. I would say “…………” nothing whatsoever… I mean… can’t you see I’m a little busy here? (addendum… I know the photographers are trying to capture all of the ride…but is it really the best time when I’m grinding away at a hill and working so hard just to make sure I’m breathing… I don’t think so!!)

Rest Stop 2 was so fun. It was a party and about 200 yards or so before the rest stop at this little corner store there was disco music playing and a whole bunch of people getting groovy… very fun. The second climb began and it was painful but doable. The downhill was supposed to be really steep – a.k.a., really great. I get there and say hmmph… it’s not that fast, but I’ll take it. One more major hill and I’m done!

What was a little demoralizing today was that all of the hills were completely visible as you climbed, so you saw the whole way up and in your mind was thinking “oh sh-t I have to climb that?!?!” At the last hill there was the M&M stop… one of my favorites. I have stopped there every day and said hi to Barb, Eric and Gina… and of course get a little snack before the end of the day.

Although there were a few more hills that weren’t quite mentioned on the route map (darn them!!!), today was a pretty good day. I finished around 2 pm (a first!) and then decided to go into town to get some food with a couple of friends… came back, did my laundry (which isn’t going to dry but oh well), and watched the talent show tonight which was hilarious (a little x-rated so I’ll spare the details). A good day today. Tomorrow will hopefully be really exciting. After Santa Barbara there are only 100 miles (which I’ve already ridden) left until home!!!!

Day 6 - Lompoc to Ventura

84.1 miles… liars… it wasn’t 84.1 miles — it was more like 90 miles… meanies! Today actually though wasn’t too bad… it was long but relaxing. Tonight should be really poignant as well… the second annual candlelight vigil is happening. I hope I get to write about it before the end of the ride.

Today I tried to get out on the road early… oh well, I tried. I left about 8 am, which is pretty late, but today there were no killer climbs. We had one long one of about 15-16 miles, but it was really gradual and I was able to take most of it in a higher gear than my granny gear. After Rest stop 1 there was about a mile more of uphill and then — the sweetest downhill I have had in a long time. On the 101 freeway (that’s right… the freeway) we got the CHP to block the road so we could take the downhill in the car lane!!! (Right now Usher’s playing in my head… “Yeah!”) So freaking awesome… no cars… no worries… no limits… I flew.

After that it was a good ride. My back was starting to get sore so I threw on an ice pack at lunch. One sour note… ok while I was climbing up Cliff Drive (this is in Santa Barbara), I’m very very slowly passing someone up the hill. Now, this person comes from the back wanting to pass and says “On your left,” which is fine except for the fact that I can’t move anywhere. Can’t he see that? Noooooooo. He says in a slightly irritated voice “Can you please scoot over?” And I say… “I can’t!!!” At least he apologized…

To all of you faster riders (so basically everyone) please… If you say “on your left” I will move over when I can! Believe me, it is no fun to have someone breathing down your neck when you’re climbing (especially if they are able to chat and I’m not). Ok, back to the rest of the happy day. What was so great was that after about mile 57, I was back on familiar ground. A month and half ago I did the Santa Barbara Century, and so getting onto Harbor Way along the coast was music to my ears. I knew where I was, I knew the terrain, knew I could do it… so it was so relaxing after that.

At Paradise Pit there was a bit of a letdown — no chocolate (or more importantly) or mint n’ chip ice cream. It was gone by the time I got there (hmm, maybe I should have gotten up earlier). At the mermaid-themed water stop there was the M&M gang… and today… peanut M&M’s! Hurrah! Ok, chocolate fix addressed, now it’s time to get back on the road.

The ride to Ventura was great. Pretty flat, and no Ortega hill (which I thought I would have to do but I was spared). Rest stop 3 was pirates, and Rest stop 4 was Swan Lake… which featured a bunch of men (and one woman) dressed in white leotards, tights, and tutus… so funny. Wow, one more day until it’s over. This week has gone by so fast and been so fun (well most of the time) and it has been an amazing experience.

Day 7 - Ventura to Los Angeles

60.8 miles… Today was supposed to be the climax of all that I had worked for. All of the training rides, all of the shopping for gear and jerseys, all of the hills, everything. I would feel so great, I did all of the miles, I did the ride. It turned out to be anticlimatic for me. It was a rather depressing day.

Ok… today I woke up really happy. I was on home turf, I had done all of the mileage on a previous ride, so I knew the hills that I would have to do, and more importantly, that I could do them. I rolled out of camp at 7:15 and was feeling really slow. When I got to the first pit stop my fear was confirmed… it was 9:30am… I really need to hurry. I left at close to 10am and got out on the road.

Maybe it was the culmination of the 7 days, but when I got into Rest stop 2 I felt panicked. As I was leaving, the final sweep team was coming in. Great. I roll out immediately and not even 10 yards another rider notices that my back tire was getting low. I really don’t need this right now. He pumps it up and as I roll into Trancas (only 25 miles from the end) it is getting low again. I have a leak.

I ask a nearby sweep team if they have a pump so that I can pump it up, but it’s not working, I’m going to have to change the tire. They offer to sweep me into lunch and I really don’t want to. I have worked so hard, and to have to be swept over this would kill it for me. I ask if I can stay and fix it. They say it would take too long and that I would be swept by the final sweep team. I’m really losing it. I reluctantly accept and as I give them my bike, tears start coming into my eyes. I get into the van and just start crying.

They say that it’s ok, but in my head it’s not. Right now, I don’t see the 575 miles that I rode. I only see the 10 miles that I didn’t. I feel like I didn’t make it, I didn’t do all of it, even though on a previous ride (the Santa Barbara Ride) I had ridden those miles. It doesn’t feel the same. It feels like I failed. Everyone says that you did great, and I may have, but right now they are seeing it for me, because I can’t see it for myself.

I get into lunch and I’m still crying. Mike and Pedro see me and come over and they ask what is wrong and I tell them. I’m sooo sad, so upset. I’m depressed for the entire lunch. They cheer me up and I’m so grateful. But still I can’t shake the feeling that I let myself down, my training ride leaders down… everyone. I didn’t ride the 585 miles. And I know that I could have.

I never see the positive things that I do. I always see the negative I guess. It’s funny, because riding on PCH back to Santa Monica, it was effortless for me. And I remember a time when it wasn’t. And Ocean hill was ok too. And I definitely remember a time when that was really hard. But it right now it doesn’t mean much to me (even though everyone else is so impressed).

Going back to last night, the candlelight vigil was incredible. So moving. I was with a few friends from Shifting Gears, and it was so moving. It really is a community of people that we have. Like they were there for me on Quadbuster, I was there for them that night. It was so touching to be there, in that moment.

Closing ceremonies today was a bit of a lift today given the circumstances. I rode in with my training ride leader Bob, and that was great for me, because he had basically been with me as I would climb every hill on the training rides (in the back, of course) so it was great today to share that experience. I said hi to everyone and they were all so proud of me, which was great. I guess I need to take those experiences away with me from this ride, because those are the ones that really matter. It’s not about the miles. 

Also, apparently people have been reading this thing, because I was approached several times with “Hey, aren’t you that girl on the blog?” … so thank you for everyone who has followed my story. I hope this has given you a glimpse into AIDS/LifeCycle. I said that I wouldn’t make my decision today about coming back next year, but I feel like the ride is still unfinished for me (so that probably is a yes). I hope you can come participate either as a cyclist or a roadie next year and I’ll probably see you there.

Sincerely,

rachel :):):)