by Mary Hiland of Gahanna Ohio
How many times have I said, "If I can do this, I can do anything"? Well, let's see. The first time was when I stepped into my bindings on the first day of my first SFL 12 years ago. That was the day that changed my life.
Not only have I become a winter-lover, but also the ballet shoes and leotards in my closet have been replaced by ski boots, licra tights, and cycling shoes.
Two years ago, I joined the Great Ohio Bike Adventure, GOBA, a week-long cycling tour around the buckeye state, riding from 50-60 miles a day. "If I can do this ..." It was a wonderful way to experience the beauty of Ohio's rolling hills and peaceful country- side. Then last May, I ran my first 5-K race. "If I can do this..." I thought I was going to die, but after I finished, I loved it and felt like jumping on the bike and riding all day. Is that what they mean by "runner's high?"
And then, on November 23 of last year, at age 51, I rode my first century, 100 miles all in one day. Actually, it was 111 miles, but after 80 or 90, it's academic. "If I can do this..." I had signed up to ride El Tour De Tucson, as a Leukemia Society's Team in Training member. That meant that the Leukemia Society would pay my way to Tucson and most of my expenses, but in return, I was to raise at least $2500 for research and treatment for leukemia patients. Well, the idea of riding 111 miles wasn't so daunting as the prospect of raising that kind of money. "If I can do this ..." Besides that, I didn't even know who my captain would be. The captain is the person on the front of a tandem bike. This adventure was meant to be, because within a week, I had found a captain, a woman in my cycling club named Eve, and within about 90 days, I had met and surpassed my goal of $3,000. I wrote to everyone I could think of, including many of my friends at SFL. You all were so very generous, and it meant more to me than you'll ever know to have your support.
Eve and I trained for weeks, riding up and down hills, often in sleet in rain. If we can do this ..." We were really looking forward to the promised beautiful weather in Tucson.
Saturday morning November 23, dawned clear and sunny, which was a treat in itself, given the dreariness of Ohio winters. They had been predicting rain, so after packing rain gear and then unpacking it when the weather report changed late Friday night, we were thrilled that it was going to be such a great day. There were 3,000 of us lined up at the start line, which was right outside our hotel. Imagine looking up and down a street and seeing bikes of all kinds as far as you could see. There was a mass start, complete with countdown, and all the cyclists who could do it in less than 6 hours were first to go off, then the ones who could do it in 7, etc. until we get back to our group, those who just wanted to finish that day. We had decorated our bike in Ohio State buckeye stuff, complete with special helmet covers, and that turned out to be a great way to meet people, as Ohio State was to play Arizona in the Rose Bowl. We got lots of cheers and jeers as we passed or were passed. We rode alongside another tandem for a while with a blind stoker, and chatted about cycling. I read later that he was the first blind person to ride across the country. Needless to say, they left us in the dust after being polite for a few miles. By the way, this ride, El Tour De Tucson is a fund-raiser for the Tucson Association for the Blind. The event this year raised about $70,000 for them. In addition, those of us who were riding for the Leukemia Society collectively raised over $660,000, thanks to the generosity of folks such as you.
The hardest part of the ride was the 12-mile uphill on Tangerine Road. It was so tedious and boring. "If we can do this ..." I asked Eve to describe what she was seeing, but just as in Ohio, what you see is corn fields on the left and soybeans on the right, it was cacti on the left and scrubby little bushes on the right. The land was sandy and rocky. The mountains looked like big piles of dirt, like someone had been excavating and just left a mess. I love the air there, but If I Lived there, I'd missed the lushness and greenness of the midwest. Anyway, the rest of the ride was rolling hills, a great ride.
Twice, we had to dismount and push the bikes across dry river beds. That was a nice break. We also stopped at the food stops about 7 times, which slowed us down quite a bit. The big mistake we had made was not eating a decent breakfast before we started. We thought there would be more substantial food available than there was, so we were constantly hungry. At about the 40-mile mark, they had grilled hamburgers, which we practically inhaled. Still, we were having a wonderful time and were glad we still had 70 miles to go. About that time, we stripped off the long sleeves and smeared on the sun screen. It got up to the low 70's, which was perfect for riding. Much of the route was on city streets, but they actually had bike lanes and traffic cops waving us through every intersection. Did we ever feel special. We were also encouraged by the folks along the way cheering us as we sailed by, including a group of nursing home residents, all bundled up in the wheelchairs and blankets. It apparently is a big outting for them each year. We had been promised a 25-mile downhill at the end, but their definition of downhill turned out to be "not uphill" as it was flat and into the wind.
We rolled across the finish line at 4:39, about 9-1/ 2 hours from our start. What amazed me was that even after 111 miles, I was still enjoying riding my bike. Our coach and the Leukemia Society co-ordinator from Columbus were there to cheer for us. We got metals like the ones we get at SFL, but nobody gave us hugs like they do at SFL. There had been free massages available though and food venders, but they both closed up shop before we got there. A good reason to cut down our time next year. Yes, we're talking about next year already. However, next year, instead of doing a personal campaign, we're going to seek corporate sponsorship. Our friends were very kind in supporting us, but we don't want to abuse their friendship.
Tandem cycling is a wonderful way for visually impaired people to enjoy the out of doors and engage in a fun activity at the same time. Of course it takes two to tandem, and a decent bike is a kind of investment, but it's a great way to spend the summer weekends while your skis are gathering dust. I've often said that I became a winter-lover because of learning to cross-country ski. I used to shiver and whine about the cold, and then I learned how to enjoy winter sports, including skiing, skating, and hiking. If you find a way to make winter fun, you actually look forward to it. Until recently, I dreaded the onset of summer. I hate bugs, sweat, and dirt, but I found a way to elude them all by riding my tandem bike. I needed a sport that could make summer as much fun as winter, and cycling was it. Now I ride my bike in the winter too. All I need now is to find a way to ski in the summer.