Hi, I’m back. Thanks to Bob, Dug, Al Maviva, and BotchedExperiment for covering for me for the past couple weeks. Also, thanks to Mark, who sent in a great story I’ll be running a little later this week.
Today’s entry is kind of serious. I doubt that surprises any of you anymore, though I honestly don’t intend for this blog to become nothing more than my daily therapy session.
When we found out that Susan’s cancer has metastasized, I just assumed that my bike season was over. I didn’t even ask. I figured I’d be needed at home.
Then, something slowly dawned on me: I’m still getting out on my bike. Not quite as often, and not for quite as long, but I’m definitely getting out. And Susan’s still helping me eat right. I’m not exactly losing weight, but I’m not putting it on, either.
About a week ago, Susan asked a question that surprised me: She wondered aloud whether she’d be feeling well enough to crew for me at the Leadville 100.
Yeah, she still assumed I’d be racing Leadville — whether I went was never in question, in her mind. She knows it’s important to me.
So yes, obviously, if she feels like going, absolutely she should plan on crewing for me. I dare say that would in fact be the most awesome thing in the whole world, ever.
So here’s the thing. My wife, in spite of being in a lot of pain and being really tired all the time, is going out of her way to make sure I can be ready for the Leadville 100.
How big a loser am I if I don’t make the very most of that time she’s giving me? (Answer: Really big loser)
Further, how much incentive do I have to lose the weight and build the power I need to finish this race in under nine hours? (Answer: A lot of incentive)
So, when I ride, I’m riding hard. And, starting today, I’m recommitting on the diet — I am going to get to 148lbs, so I can climb the way I need to for this race.
And here’s a little secret: I’m actually pretty fast right now. Maybe the fastest I’ve ever been, in fact (Note to self: send big “thank you” card to Coach Lofgran, and tell him I want to get back on the program). Last week, for example, I nearly hung with Kenny when climbing Upper Frank — a brutally steep one-mile MTB climb. And last Saturday I managed to drop Rick Sunderlage (not his real name) on a climb. I haven’t been able to even keep him in sight until recently.
So this weekend, my Mom’s coming to town so I can go race the Kokopelli Trail Race — 142 miles on the MTB, self-supported, one day. This race has always scared me before. It still does. But not as much.