Death Ride

So maybe the Death Ride was a bit of a stretch for my first organized ride. Let me admit from the start that I REALLY wanted to get out of it, and I almost didn’t go. My plan of riding a century every month completely failed—I was completely under trained by the time the Death Ride rolled around, only having ridden about 100 miles in a good week and maybe I’d done 2 or 3 60-70 mile rides all year. A million things seemed like a better idea—right up to the morning of when I woke up at 4 am and groaned, “Am I really doing this?”

I am really glad I did it. I actually had fun on the ride, something I didn’t expect to do—I basically just took the ride so slowly that it turned out to be very enjoyable. Except, that is, for the 3rd pass, the front side of Ebbetts, where it really hurt. I was happy that I managed to eat enough, and I didn’t get any cramps and such. I hadn’t expected to actually enjoy the day.