Josh and I signed up for this event months ago and tried to come up with some cycling-appropriate costumes. This event includes a few different distances, and apparently the 100-mile ride is typically the least costumed of the lot. I guess *most* people find it cumbersome to wear a costume while biking 100 miles, so typically the impressive costumes show up for the rides of 50 or less miles. My main objective was to find a costume that would not only be impressive but also comfortable for wearing on my bike for 6+ hours. Josh clearly was not so concerned about comfort, and paid for it in the end.
The race started at sunrise, and riders were sent off with a very New Mexican-style raising of the flag via hot air balloon. The morning was cold, and my fingers stayed pretty numb for about the first hour of the ride. Five miles into the ride, Josh was already needing to stop and adjust his costume. I was annoyed to have to be stopping already so early on, but we had agreed to stick together and just enjoy the day, so I sat back and watched people ride past us. This would turn out to be the theme for the day.
I don't know what exactly I did, or what combination of food I managed, or what the hell had gotten into me, but I was on fire for this entire ride. I was feeling great, spinning fast, and passing people! Maybe it was the tutu. I rode up the five-mile-long Tramway hill faster than I'd ever ridden it before. My legs felt great, my breathing wasn't bothering me, and I was happy to be on my bike. Josh continued to need to stop every five miles or so (he never really planned for the fact that he was unable to eat or drink with his mask on), so I would get ahead of him on the hills, and then wait for him to catch up at the rest stops. I admit that I was upset to not be able to keep riding and stick with some of the larger packs of cyclists, but no matter what I was having a blast. Everybody smiled when they saw us in costume. Very similar to my side-ponytail hypothesis, I've decided that it's pretty much impossible to be in a bad mood when you're dressed up in a silly costume.
So we pedaled, and pedaled, and kept pedaling. Josh continued to have trouble with his mask, and around mile 45 he finally took off the big top hat and stowed it in the backpack he brought along. By this point I think the damage had been done, as his back was bothering him quite a bit from the pressure of the wind and not being able to lower his head. We headed north, knowing that we'd probably have a big hill to climb in Placitas. Turns out, we had multiple big hills to climb on the way to Placitas. I was still feeling great and was flying up the hills, but J was slowing down considerably and was NOT happy about the elevation gains.
Unfortunately we have few photos from this ride. I tried to take photos for the first part of the race, but towards the end I just had no desire to mess with my camera while on my bike. And Josh flat-out refused to chance using the camera with his mask on, so I have no photos of myself riding. Oh well.
Long story short, we finished the ride. Barely. I basically had to drag Josh behind me for the last 30-35 miles of the race, force him to eat and drink at the rest stops, and continue to try my best at being supportive even though all I wanted to do was ride ahead and finish. But, we made it! And somehow I still felt great at the finish line... I could have ridden for another hour or two, easy. At the least, this gives me great hope for El Tour de Tucson next month. I'd been worrying about not having trained enough.
All-in-all, I think we made no less than fifteen stops over the course of this ride. According to my fancy GPS device on my bike, the difference between time spent actually pedaling and time spent total is 1.5 hours. That's a lot of time to be stopped on the side of the road! By the time we finished, all of our friends (who were riding shorter distances) had departed and the race volunteers were starting to break down the tents. It's a shame, because I think that if we'd finished earlier and been present for the awards ceremony, Josh could have made a good run at the Best Costume contest. I guess we'll never know.
Despite the setbacks, I thoroughly enjoyed myself on this ride. And though he was physically miserable by the end of it, I know Josh loved all the attention he got for his costume. I will absolutely return to do this ride again next year (and every year!), but it's comforting to know that we can always choose to do the shorter versions of the race if necessary. [And, for the record, I offered the option of only doing 80 or 65 miles, but Josh was the one who insisted that we should ride the 100. Famous last words.]
I don't know what exactly I did, or what combination of food I managed, or what the hell had gotten into me, but I was on fire for this entire ride. I was feeling great, spinning fast, and passing people! Maybe it was the tutu. I rode up the five-mile-long Tramway hill faster than I'd ever ridden it before. My legs felt great, my breathing wasn't bothering me, and I was happy to be on my bike. Josh continued to need to stop every five miles or so (he never really planned for the fact that he was unable to eat or drink with his mask on), so I would get ahead of him on the hills, and then wait for him to catch up at the rest stops. I admit that I was upset to not be able to keep riding and stick with some of the larger packs of cyclists, but no matter what I was having a blast. Everybody smiled when they saw us in costume. Very similar to my side-ponytail hypothesis, I've decided that it's pretty much impossible to be in a bad mood when you're dressed up in a silly costume.
Trawmway Rd.- five miles of uphill fun!
So we pedaled, and pedaled, and kept pedaling. Josh continued to have trouble with his mask, and around mile 45 he finally took off the big top hat and stowed it in the backpack he brought along. By this point I think the damage had been done, as his back was bothering him quite a bit from the pressure of the wind and not being able to lower his head. We headed north, knowing that we'd probably have a big hill to climb in Placitas. Turns out, we had multiple big hills to climb on the way to Placitas. I was still feeling great and was flying up the hills, but J was slowing down considerably and was NOT happy about the elevation gains.
Unfortunately we have few photos from this ride. I tried to take photos for the first part of the race, but towards the end I just had no desire to mess with my camera while on my bike. And Josh flat-out refused to chance using the camera with his mask on, so I have no photos of myself riding. Oh well.
Long story short, we finished the ride. Barely. I basically had to drag Josh behind me for the last 30-35 miles of the race, force him to eat and drink at the rest stops, and continue to try my best at being supportive even though all I wanted to do was ride ahead and finish. But, we made it! And somehow I still felt great at the finish line... I could have ridden for another hour or two, easy. At the least, this gives me great hope for El Tour de Tucson next month. I'd been worrying about not having trained enough.
All-in-all, I think we made no less than fifteen stops over the course of this ride. According to my fancy GPS device on my bike, the difference between time spent actually pedaling and time spent total is 1.5 hours. That's a lot of time to be stopped on the side of the road! By the time we finished, all of our friends (who were riding shorter distances) had departed and the race volunteers were starting to break down the tents. It's a shame, because I think that if we'd finished earlier and been present for the awards ceremony, Josh could have made a good run at the Best Costume contest. I guess we'll never know.
Despite the setbacks, I thoroughly enjoyed myself on this ride. And though he was physically miserable by the end of it, I know Josh loved all the attention he got for his costume. I will absolutely return to do this ride again next year (and every year!), but it's comforting to know that we can always choose to do the shorter versions of the race if necessary. [And, for the record, I offered the option of only doing 80 or 65 miles, but Josh was the one who insisted that we should ride the 100. Famous last words.]
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