When my long distance running career came to an end in 1995 (out of boredom) after 7 marathons, I decided to take up biking. OK, so the most biking I had ever done as an adult was in the park (flat) with my Dad on my annual and bi-annual visits home. But I was inspired by the creation of a team ride from Philadelphia to Washington, DC to raise money for AIDS-related services.
I went to the neighborhood bike shop and tried out several bikes before purchasing a Trek with hybrid tires. I loved the way the bike felt and the fact that I could ride either straight up, half-way up, or hunched over like the professionals. Little did I know how long I would own this bike or how far it would take me.
I signed up for the first ride, started to raise money, and trained and trained in Rock Creek Park, learning how to shift the gears and how to charge the hills. It was so invigorating that I found myself riding from home to Mount Vernon and back on bike trails (40 miles) with ease, barely having to stop at all for traffic or signal lights. This covered so much more ground than running!
I considered getting organized for the trip as another part of the training. What to take, what clothes to buy, what equipment to have on the bike, these were all part of the details and the prepration that kept me motivated and excited.
A friend drove with me to Philadelphia, my bike on a rack on the back of my little 2-seater convertible. This in itself was a little nerve-wracking as it was difficult so see out of the side and rear view mirrors and I was afraid to go very fast on I-95 for fear that the bike would tear away from the car and crash into the road.
But we made it there safely, spent the night, and awoke very early to start the ride. What a huge thrill it was to pedal with 1,700 riders out of Philadelphia to begin our 3-day journey to DC. Yes it was exhausting to have to pitch your own tent and sleep on the ground after riding 100+ miles each day. Yes, it was grueling in the heat to work up to the top of a mile-long hill. But the food was delicious and I could eat ceaselessly. The spirit of all the riders was infectious. And the night-time camp entertainment was hysterical.
On the last day, we rode into DC over Memorial Bridge to thousands of people lining the streets, thanking us for what we were doing for the AIDS patients and victims in DC and Philadelphia.
The next year, the ride moved its starting point to Raleigh, North Carolina, still ending in DC. I was hooked and rode again, even though the ride increased from three to four days. And for three more years after that, I rode.
This year I gave the bike and all its attachments to a friend. She just used it in a triathlon in Lafayette, Louisiana. It still does my heart good.
