Let it rain?

Yeah.. it rained.  Who would have expected that? We had warm weather before and gorgeous weather right after.. but the day of the Peak Season Century (100 miles around Lake George), it rained like a big dog.
Lake George is beautiful, even in the rain. But add in the cold and the wind?  No, not for me, thank you.

I tried. I really did. I used every mental image I had at my disposal to try and keep myself going. I called the cold rain in my face, the "Adirondack Mist Facial". I kept thinking, "people  pay good money for a spa treatment like this".  How is that for re-framing?

When the wind picked up, coming out of the north, hitting me in the face and making the rain feel like pin pricks, I called it the "Cryo-exfoliation" treatment. Again, keeping in mind, "people pay good money for a spa treatment like this".

Then the chamois in my pants started to take on water. Cold water. The road was wet and the spray must have been coming up off my back wheel and it just soaked through the bike pants and into the chamois. Every time I hit a bump, I got a cold spray of water right up the nether regions. Yeah, I thought,  people pay good money for this....

This is the shot I would have taken, if I had brought my camera

I stopped at 32 miles, where most people were calling it quits. I stood in the ladies room and warmed my hands under the hand dryer. I sat in someone's car (whoever you were, thank you!), with a few other folks with the heater turned on high. I pretty much decided I was going to give in. Then, Susan and Tom arrived. They were not quitting. In no uncertain terms, Susan told me she was going to keep going. So, off I went with Susan and Tom, with the goal of making it another 8-10 miles to Fort Ticonderoga.

I made it the 8  miles, had lunch at Fort Ti, and found I couldn't warm myself up, no matter what I tried, I was still wet and shivering. So, there, at historic Fort Ticonderoga. I surrendered. With Lake Champlain to the north, and Lake George to the south, I waved the wet bike glove of surrender. Like the British surrendering to Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Boys in 1775 after a surprise attack, the weather, in it's surprise attack on me, was the clear victor.
Next year, there will be a rematch!

Note: this would have been my 4th Century Ride. I guess that milestone will have to wait for next spring and Lake Tahoe. However, my relationship with Lake George, will be revisited.

A man without a country.. or a gal without her team ;-\

Last weekend, the Team Hole in the Wall challenge, was the first organized ride I have done without my TNT team mates. I have to stop and think about just what that means. It was a much smaller ride than I am used to, and by small, I mean there were far fewer riders than I am used to. The periods of  being alone, were much more frequent than any other group ride I have ever been on. They weren't bad, just different than what I usually see in an organized ride. Billy was there, but by mile 50, I was starting to slow and he, well, he wasn't. So, I found myself lagging behind. It was fine, but my usually 'peeps' weren't there. No Coach Henry, telling me in his booming voice to soften my elbows; no Coach Dave, with his dry sense of humor. No Rita coming up behind me on a hill, saying 'we love to ride our bicycles', no Jen. NO JEN!!! NO JEN??? Nope, no Jen, I can't do a ride without Jen!!!! No Pauly and none of the banter that we typically enjoy on our training and event rides. Just me and Billy. And for quite a while, just me.

OH.. yeah.. new Team Hole in the Wall jersey. Don't ask.

But, just me is okay! I finished. I did get lost at the end and took a wrong turn, which probably added a mile or so to the ride, but I finished, with Billy sitting there waiting, and the support group ringing cowbells, and the tears in my eyes (okay, so that is the same, with or without my team).

I think, like a kid taking the car out on the road right after they get their license, this is a step for me. A big step in my independence as a cyclist. I needed this. I needed to know I could do a ride on my own. Having signed up for Peak Season in Lake George (so far about 200 riders), the Team Hole in the Wall was good practice for me riding without the team, gaining that independence. I made it the 62 without my team, so I am pretty sure I will make the 100 on my own too.  But, will it be as much fun?

September 11, 2011

The state of the sunflowers are leading me to believe that fall is not far away.

Short, slow recovery ride this morning. Who am I kidding, recovery??? I just wanted to ride. Period. Addicted I am. Besides, the beautiful mornings like this one are soon to be a thing of the past (Welcome, Autumn), so I need to take advantage of the weather while it lasts.

I stayed on the roads that I know, nothing new and adventurous. Had enough of that yesterday. Yesterday? Seems like a distant memory, the burning legs, the labored breath... Yesterday,  I rode the Team Hole in the Wall Challenge. A charity ride benefiting the Hole in the Wall Camp, which was founded by Paul Newman. It was a wonderful ride, very, very well supported, SAG wagons, support on motorcycles, really excellent. For the times I found myself riding alone, there was always some guy on a motorcycle not far away if I needed anything. It was a very challenging ride. 62 miles of hills. I had a feeling when we left the camp and immediately started on a downhill, bad juju. The hills were not huge, not long, there were just a blessed ton of them. And, was it just me? There seemed to be no downhills in between them. Seems like you would just start picking up some speed and either you had to slow for a turn, or went right back up. The only place I really felt like I gained any speed was on the one rather big downhill where I caught enough momentum to get the bike up to 40.5 mph... personally the fastest I have ever gone. Now if you know me, you know how I hate going downhill fast, but either I have changed or something in me has changed because I am kinda sorta starting to like it.
Camp Hole in the Wall is such a good place, such a happy place, I tried to carry some of that wonder with me on the ride. The first pedal stroke brought out some tears, as did the last. That is to be expected, I guess. The feeling of being a  part of something that is so much bigger than myself, something that helps so many kids.  Thanks, Paul Newman!

A banner in the dining hall, thanks for the picture Billy!

Today, September 11th, I did my recovery ride, or my Karen just wants to get back on the bike and do a little "slow,Sunday morning, cruising down the road" ride. Not a lot to say about it, other than it was a good thing I had a pocket full of tissues. I got to see the gang of old men at the Dunkin' Donuts, sitting in their usual Sunday morning spot, the corner table, with their oxygen tanks hooked up. They gave me a smile and a nod, the usual!  Below are the pictures I took with my phone, on this morning.

A moment of silence outside of the church in Pine Meadow, I stopped and joined them for a few minutes. Left with my glasses fogged up and such a feeling of unity.

Everywhere, there were subtle reminders

Peace.

The road I know...

Took an awesome ride today. Started out by myself and didn't take a route sheet, or even a plan. I had a couple of ideas of some routes I wanted to try, but nothing definite. I figured I would just point the bike down a road and go that way, or this way. Since it was MY ride, and mine alone, I made up my own rules. I would take at least one road that I didn't know, and, more importantly, if I saw something I liked I would stop and take a picture (I remembered the point and shoot today!) Go me!

Since I was riding alone, I thought I would use the time wisely. I would meditate and focus my mind, which is usually racing along at the speed of light (unlike my 56 yr old body). I started out early, a little before 8AM, with the sun at my back. First thing that caught my attention was my shadow. Hello, Shadow, I say in my mind, you look marvelous, you look like you have lost some weight.  Good.

The falls in Collinsville

My mind is moving too fast, reel it back in. I am thinking about Irene, the hurricane. What kind of damage am I going to see when I hit Collinsville? What is the river going to look like? I turn the corner and there is the river. Beautiful. I try to reconcile that it is beautiful, and that it devastated my husbands crops.

Early morning steam coming up off the river.

I continue on. I am on roads that I know. My mind is thinking of the Tucson ride. I am not going. If I was on the fence (for various reasons), Irene made it a done deal. There just isn't enough disposable income right now. Period. Not enough money. Definitely a road I know. I tell my mind to stop. Try to focus, riding meditation, quiet the thoughts. Poop, I think it isn't working.

I am now on Rt179, typically I would turn left and go out Rt 44, but today I decide to go straight. It is a road that I know, but not as well as others. I remember that it is hilly. For once, I am remembering right. I go through Canton center, my head is bursting with thoughts the whole time. Shut up, I say to myself. Just shut up.  I am distracted for a minute by the United Methodist Church of North Canton that comes up on my right. Simple, plain in true Methodist fashion, but so beautiful still. Beautiful in it's simplicity, or beautiful because of it's simplicity, I don't know. I don't care.. either way, it is beautiful, and it distracts me from number one, my thoughts, and number two.. the blessed hill.  (A good friend of mine suggested I exchange the word bless, blessed or blessings for a harsher alternative that I sometimes use -- frick of course).  After the church, I came upon a really neat little shed on a property. Had to stop for a picture. I loved the way the light filtered through windows at the top of the building.

I would buy this property just for the cool shed.

Now, this part of Rt 179 I have not been on. I have stayed on 179 as far as the turn for Rt 309, but never any further. So, I am now on a road that I don't know. There is something exciting about being on a road that I don't know, there is also something a little scary. Not knowing what is over the next hill, not knowing what is around the next bend... sort of like life, or sort of like making changes in your life. Thoughts thoughts thoughts, they are not good or bad, just thoughts, thoughts are things. I think about becoming a person standing on the sidewalk, watching traffic go by. I don't react to my thoughts, just let them go by. That seems to quiet them down some.

I keep going and this part of Rt 179 is not for the faint of heart. HILLY! It looks like it will just be some gentle rolling hills, but they are deceiving. They just seem to go up and up. I am stubborn and I keep going. I come upon some state workers, in their big orange trucks. They are standing around the back of the truck, as I pedal up the blessed hill. Good morning, I say, out loud. First words I have spoken out loud since I left the house. I smile and say, this is one blessed hill!  Yep, one of the tells me, and you have a ways more to go.  Just what I needed to hear. Bless it. I eventually come to another group and I stopped for a minute to ask them some directions. I know there is a cross street, but I am not sure how far away it is, and I want to confirm that this street will take me over to Rt 219. They confirm the directions for me and I pedal on.

Eventually I come to Hillcrest Rd. Another road I don't know. I make the left and think to myself.. yup, with a name like Hillcrest there is no doubt a hill involved. And there was, but then surprisingly the road went down. Yes, finally a downhill, or at least a downgrade. I just start to build some speed and right in front of me in the road is a big old tom turkey so I stopped to watch him for a minute. I am a firm believer in animals showing themselves to us for a reason, and seeing a turkey symbolizes all of the blessings that the Earth contains (shared blessings)... funny how I have been using the word bless a lot and I see a turkey, and actually it is the second turkey in two weeks. I wanted to take a picture, but Tom the turkey didn't like me much and started to flare up his tail feathers and flap his wings, so I moved on, quickly.

After I turned off Hillcrest, I was again on a road I know, the downside of Rt 219 (thank goodness it was not the up side, my legs were feeling like butter). Down the hill, up the hill, down the hill. Past the Saville Dam, beautiful spot, and then out to Riverton.  West River Rd..is so pretty, old Federal style antique homes, pretty much no traffic except for the few fishermen going to the river to cast their lines. The broken bridge looks especially pretty today, had to stop and take a picture.

I love the broken bridge, makes me want to see what it looked like when it was whole.

 

 

 

Once in Riverton, I stopped at the General Store, got a snack and another water, used the public toilet, which should be voted the best incidental potty in the State of CT. I was going to head back towards home, but I needed to make some miles, and if I went home, I would be short. So I went out Robertsville Road, again, a road I know, but in the opposite direction. From there, I cut down Rt 8, back towards Winsted, and then back to Riverton on Rt 20, then back on East River Road  headed towards home. I was by the Pleasant Valley Drive In when Bill called and said he would meet me on Rt44. We met up and then decided to go back to Riverton because I was still short on miles. So.. again I head out to Riverton, and again I stop at the General Store (by now the clerk has seen me 3 times, and I can tell she is giving me the greasy eye.  Since I made 3 visits to the General Store, I had to include a picture of it...


Three times a charm, was time to head home. My legs were really rubbery, we hit Rt 44, went back through Collinsville, down my favorite New Road, which although it is New, and it is newly paved, I know it well. It takes me home.

I guess the road home should always be the road we know best.  That is the best thing my head has said all day.

Distance: 62.2 miles
Average speed: 13.1 mph
Max Speed: 36.2
Vertical Climb: 4000+ feet (I argue this, I don't think it was this much)













 

Challenges and Birthdays

Karen and Billy

Art and Billy

If you have been following my blog at all, you know how much I have changed as a cyclist since those first few scary trips down the road. I still have a long way to go before I will consider myself an accomplished cyclist, but each outing gives me more... more strength, more confidence, and definitely more fun :) Each ride also helps me overcome what I have felt are some challenges that I face on the road.

Today's ride was no exception in the learning department. I rode to the commuter lot, something I have been doing a lot of lately. My team gathers at the commuter lot to start our ride. Once there we may have a 'mission minute' when we remember why we are riding (to raise funds to help cure leukemia), or we may have a 'mini clinic' to address some training issue. Or, we just meet there and start the ride. Since I live only 4 miles from the commuter lot, I have taken to 'riding to the ride'. I have become one of those people. I have found that I can ride the 4 miles in about 14 minutes, cruising down route 4 with an average speed of about 16 mph. Not too shabby, considering that when I first started Coach Henry was doubtful that I would be able to maintain the 10mph average that was needed for Tahoe.  The most difficult part of these 4 miles is merging from the shoulder on the right to the left hand turn lane to take a left onto Town Farm Rd and into the lot. Since I was on the road at about 7:30am, I had a lot of morning commuter traffic to deal with while making my merge. POC (piece of cake). One year ago, this would not have been possible for me to do.

Today, Bill (BillyTooTall), Art (our honored hero, 2 time lymphoma/leukemia survivor), and I were going to do a training ride, 56 miles to celebrate Bill's 56th birthday. Sounds like a lot of fun, only I needed to remember that on Saturday I did 63 miles, with quite a bit of climbing, and the route Bill planned for us today also had a lot of climbing (3168 feet according to my phone app).  So, legs were sluggish to say the least. Another challenge, how do I face this hilly ride, starting out on dead legs?

We headed out with a mind set of having fun. We deviated from the planned route a little bit by omitting Lovely Street and heading right to the intersection of Huckleberry Hill and Rt 4, making the short steep grade our first little challenge. Once done with that, and continuing on through the construction we made it up Huck Hill, not bad, it is a nice little climb, and then the dreaded downhill. Now, downhills have always been a challenge for me, but I have made progress. I learned from Jim Kimball and John Ambrose, to slide back and get my weight more over my back wheel, to loosen my vice-like grip on the handlebars and brakes, and to keep my knees close to the bar, I tired putting that into practice today. The downhill isn't long, but it is steep. It has a blind curve and a street that comes out onto it from the other side of the cemetery, one oddly placed manhole cover and then a drainage grate that sits right where my bike wants to be, and then at the bottom, as if to add insult to injury, there is a big, fat, red stop sign. So, although not the hugest of downhills, it poses a challenge for me. I usually go on New Road and take the easy way into Collinsville and avoid Huck Hill altogether. But not today. I was not going to wimp out in front of the men, today, I would conquer that down hill. And I did. I did use my brakes (Brake Free is a little slogan that Charryse came up with to  help me up my game in the downhill department right after I started riding).  And, while I was not totally brake free on Huck Hill, it was the best I have ever done on that hill. I finally learned the right way to feather the brakes (feathering does not equal squeezing with all your strength - who knew!?!?). Yes, I did better, not great, but better! Challenge Huck Hill ... over.
We turned on 179 and then another left onto 202 towards Torrington. The bottom part of 202 was newly paved last year. Awesome job, I tell you! No more raised manhole or drainage grate covers like the last time I was on 202. Only beautiful smooth pavement, and a beautiful steady climb. Once we crossed the Canton town line into New Hartford, you could see the difference in pavement, but we kept climbing.   This is the kind of hill I adore. Rt 202 goes all the way into Torrington, and it climbs the whole way. Never is it very steep,  but a continuous 3-4, maybe 5% grade the whole way. There are a couple of places where the road flattens out some, but not for long. There are no real downhills. There are some 'false flats' as Art calls them, places where you can gear up a little bit and go a little faster, but you are still climbing. Then there is the one spot that really faked me out. We were climbing and I could see the crest of the hill, and then it looked like it would go down (and maybe a little off to the right). So, cresting the hill, I shifted up as I normally would, into a higher gear, getting ready to go downhill, hoping that I could gain momentum to make it up the next grade... HA! There was no downhill. It totally got me! It just went up yet again.  Turning off Rt 202 and onto Torringford St, we stopped at the church for a snack and drink (and I said a short prayer.. Please God, flatten the road!).. ha.. prayers unanswered. The climbing continued, but more in a rolling hill fashion. Ups and downs.. some really, really good downs!!! I was able to hit 38.2 mph. Again, another milestone for me, since last year I would have been squeezing on the brakes so hard I could smell the rubber burning. I think last year my max speed, and that includes Tahoe was 32 mph, so for me, 38 is a great improvement.

We ended up back on Rt 44 in Winsted, headed out to our new favorite ride to Riverton, had another snack and headed back on tired legs (okay, tired legs that were maintaining a pretty good clip!). The bulk of the climbing had been accomplished in the first half of the ride, a good thing, yes, but there is something to be said for pushing on with tired legs. Learning to maintain the energy needed to complete a 109 mile ride, means that at times we will be pushing on with tired legs, best get used to it now!

Today, was a joy, a gift, and I think we squeezed it for every drop of good that was in it. Bill, celebrating his birthday, Art, (again, a 2 time cancer survivor), celebrating being able to ride, and me, just celebrating overcoming a couple of challenges, knowing that a year ago I would have taken the easy way, turned right instead of left, and squeezed the brakes really, really hard.

Interesting things I saw (and want to go back to with my camera):
A hen turkey
A little grouping of 3 antique looking birdhouses in someone's yard
A monster in someones yard, dressed in red, white and blue.. rather resembled some Republicans I have seen lately
The church bell where we stopped for a snack
The broken bridge in Riverton.

My thanks to the general store in Riverton who are willing to sell me one piece of Provolone cheese :) Thanks guys!
And a special thanks to all of my friends and family who are facing special challenges of their own and who rise above. I learn from you!

Hell hath done gone and froze over

Yes, folks, Hell, (as in the hot place, Hades, the realm of Pluto, Satan's Kingdom) yeah, that place has frozen over. The old devil himself is now wearing and overcoat, scarf and mittens. Why??? Because I hate riding my bike on the bike path.

A year and a half ago, if you had told me that I would prefer to ride on the road over the bike path, I would have answered with  "sure, when hell freezes over". Well, I prefer to ride on the road, so hell must have frozen over.  I used to be a regular on my hybrid on the Farmington Valley Greenway. I would go from Farmington up to the Mass line pretty much all on the path. Loved it. I couldn't think about riding on the road, too scary.

Then, I got on the road. I didn't care for it at first and I would do some parts of my training rides on the path, unbeknownst to Coach. But when Coach Henry found out, he pretty much told me I couldn't go on the path anymore. I remember his booming voice ( he could play God in a movie with that voice).."Stay OFF the path!".  His advice was worth listening to, and he had plenty of cause to tell me this 1) I needed to be training for Tahoe, and Tahoe is a road. I need to be used to traffic, and following the rules of the road and how to keep myself in a safe position while sharing the road with cars. and 2)  hills. I needed to be training on hills and the Greenway, as most Rails to Trails, is very flat and doesn't offer much in the way of a variety of terrain.  And, we all know, just like riding on roads, because that is what you will be faced with during your event, you also want to train on hills because that is what you will be faced with during your event. Train for terrain harder than you event is, so that when you come to the event, it is a POC (piece of cake).

So, kicking and screaming I forced myself to ride on the road, I convinced myself that I could tolerate it to appease Henry and get myself ready for Tahoe, but I would never, ever, like it. It would always be scary, there would always be cars that were going too fast, and coming too close.  I would never like it or feel comfortable.
My ride tonight was pretty much just to get some air and a little exercise after work. My shoulders were sore from work (really poor ergonomics), and I didn't want to go too far, just a relaxing little ride. So, I went out to Collinsville and heading up Rt 179 I decided to turn off and try out the newest part of the bike path. A section that runs from Collinsville through to the Canton end of Lovely street.  It is beautiful, picturesque, very green and lush... and flat. The first thing that got my goat, were the stop signs. Too many of them. You couldn't gain any speed, because you had to stop for a cross street every few yards. I think technically you are supposed to dismount and walk your bike across these crosswalks (oops). The second thing that got to me were the pretty brick inlays on both sides of these crosswalks. Very pretty they were, but also a little slippery to my skinny little tires. (I wish my butt was as skinny as my tires, but I digress.) Maybe it was due to the recent rain, who knows.
Another thing that I didn't like were the people. I am sure they are very nice folks, but here is the guy, all the way to the left, and here is his dog all the way to the right, with his 10 foot leash draped across the path like a clothesline. Okay, how many times did I announce myself before he crossed the path to be on the same side as his dog? At least 3. Then there is the couple, who heard "on your left" and thought it meant move left. Okay. The kids on skateboards, people jogging with their heads down -- I bet they find a lot of money that way, but they sure aren't aware that a bike is coming at them from the opposite direction! All of them interrupted my pacing. I was actually uncomfortable riding there, and I didn't like it, and slow!?!?! Oh my goodness, slower than a snail crawling uphill on ice (well maybe not that slow).  I couldn't wait to get back to Rt 179 and continue on my way to Job Lot. Now don't get me wrong, the bike trail is really well done, and so needed in this area. It is a beautiful place to walk and sit on a bench to think and meditate, and maybe it is even the perfect place to ride a hybrid and enjoy nature. But, it is not for me, not anymore.  So, after my ride out to Lovely Street (where they put in a beautiful pergola and meditation benches), I turned and went back to Rt 179, back to the cars going by and the dust being kicked up in my face. Back to where I am comfortable on my bike. So, Satan, I hope you are enjoying your cold snap. I know I am.

The need for speed. Or not.

Maverick: I feel the need...
Maverick, Goose: ...the need for speed!

Have you ever noticed how fast people are moving these days?  On the highway, at the grocery, seems like wherever you go people are trying to go faster.
Yeah, well, that ain't me.  I have proved that by trying to get back into running. So, here is a philosophical question: is my run really a run if it is slower than my walk? Enough of that. I am only venturing out on two feet instead of 2 wheels to do something to keep my bones strong, and I get bored walking so I shuffle. I can actually shuffle about 3 miles without breaking into my walk. Unless, I want to speed up, then I break into my walk. Comical. I really hope nobody is out on the greenway taping me. That would be truly embarrassing. But, no matter how slow, I get my 3 miles done.

Since I am training for the fall ride with Team in Training, (El Tour de Tucson) which is a relatively flat (hallelujah!) ride, and I am not training to ride the hills (can we just call them mountains?) of Lake Tahoe, I am starting to feel the need for (a bit) of speed! I will never be a rider like Paulie, he isn't human, he rides up Mt Washington on his bike. Yes, his bike climbed Mt Washington, my car has not even done that. I will never be like Matty the punk. Matty just turned 30, I can call him a punk. You know, someone who is only 30 can go out the night before, have a few drinks and still get up and ride 100 miles the next day.  Yeah, I remember being 30, a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.   I will never ride like that skinny little fart, Jim Kimball. I just ride like me, a little faster than I used to be, a little faster than some, not as fast as most, but I get there.

I have made a lot of progress over the last year and a half on my bike. The hill on 44, that I did on my first ride ever on my new bike, with sneakers and flat pedals, huffing and puffing like old engine number 9, shifting wrong, is not a hill to me anymore. Sure, I am still slow on the climbs, but I can make the climbs.  Coach Henry said I was a stronger rider than I give myself credit for. And that may very well be true. I am a strong rider, maybe not a fast rider, but a strong rider.  Some of the progress I have made has been in the way of technique. I learned to pedal downhill... it helps get your keester up the next hill. I have started standing on the pedals, when I crest a hill, just to break the tension a little bit. And, I can actually drink while I am on the bike. That is a new skill I developed this year, goodbye camelback! I rejoice in the little milestones.

Since I am training for a flatter ride, I will tend to ride flatter terrain around here. And, since I am riding flatter terrain, I will tend to go a little faster. My average speed is now getting up to over 14mph, when it used to be a little better than 12 or 13 mph.   Not a huge amount faster, but a little. And, I am okay with that. I am not trying to be Paulie, or Matty, or Jim the skinny little fart. I am trying to be me. Me on a bike, enjoying the ride, noticing the scenery (seeing the wild turkeys in the driveway that those up ahead of me totally missed!), loving the weather (even if it is like riding into a hair dryer -- thanks Alison for the analogy), and clearing my mind. I guess the bottom line, is that it doesn't matter how fast I finish, but that I finish.


ps: Cancer sucks.

psps:  Spent a day in June taking pictures of the TNT runners that were doing the Fairfield Half Marathon, had a blast and got this great shot of Jamie Botteon, College Freshman, DI soccer player, and leukemia survivor. Go Jamie!

What I learned on my summer vacation...

on the backside of Emerald Bay

Another Tahoe ride has come and gone. And doing it for the second time, I found there were still lessons to be learned. Here are my top 10.

1) Cold rain in your face with a dash of grit can be just like an expensive facial.

2) Even on a bike your feet can get really wet (ie: I could pour water out of my shoes).

3) There is no substitute for sheer determination.

4) When your arse is wet from the spray and the bike seat and you use one of those paper liners on the toilet seat, it will stick all over you and it takes a few minutes to get all the little pieces off your behind. Best to just squat.

5) Stay out of the 'rooster tail' as much as possible.


6) Lucy Duffy, age 78, who began running marathons to raise money for the Leukemia Society to honor her  husband who passed away from leukemia,  and was our inspirational speaker on Friday night, said it best..."finishing is winning".  Thank you Lucy Duffy. (yes, at age 78 she completed the 100 miles)

7) After slowly making it up one of the hills on the way to the lunch stop, I rode by a cheer group. The young man on the end shouted at me, "You are doing this for ME!". God puts the people you really need, in the places you really need them.

8) People are basically good, generous caring beings. I have always believed this and I still believe it no matter what. If I am wearing rose colored glasses, then so be it. I am keeping them on. The CT Chapter of Team in Training raised over $120,000. Nationally the Tahoe event raised 6.8 million!

9) There is a "Whole lotta love" at these events.

10)  Heroes
      a) My heart welled up when I saw on our inspiration dinner table, a letter from Dominique Soucy, with a photo of her and I at the Rockcats game. Her letter summed up what it was like for her to go through being diagnosed with CML at the age of 23, and how she is finding ways to give back now that she is in remission. Christopher Reeve said "a hero is an ordinary individual who finds strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles."  Dominique, you are the definition of a hero.
      b)  The same goes when I saw Tom Kelley's picture in the opening slide show. Tom, you are my hero as well. The same Christopher Reeve quote applies to you.

      c) Art, you know how much I respect you, and I just love the way you 'show up' on your blue bike, to let me draft off of you, when I need that the most. I am so happy you kicked cancer in the behind and it is an honor to ride with (well, mostly behind) you.  The same Christopher Reeve quote applies to you as well.

Emerald Bay and Lake Tahoe beyond

My thanks to all, especially Coaches Dave and Henry, Jen, Billy, Dominique, Art, Coach Jim, and the entire Tahoe Team!  A special thanks to Deb.... hahahaha "the blessed hills, the blessed rain etc. etc. etc.

And to Jens Voight : Shut up legs!

Southbury

Southbury. The good, the bad and the downright ugly.  This ride, for some reason had me questioning why I was doing this again. I did not make the Southbury ride last year, it was scheduled for a weekend that I had to work. All I heard about from the rest of my team was how tough a ride this was, So this year, I was not doing any jigs when I found that I was not working the weekend of the Southbury ride, and I really was looking for a reason, ANY reason not to go. But, I am nothing if not stubborn, and I don't give up or give in easily, so, I went. Kicking, screaming and whining all the way to Southbury. Now, after the fact, I can say it wasn't all bad, it did have some good points, along with a big dose of ugly.

The good.  The view of "Old Connecticut", rolling pastures, beautiful equestrian properties, estates, farmhouses, rivers, streams and waterfalls filled my heart was really at times, breathtaking. It made me think of the Arlo Guthrie song, City of New Orleans....   All along the southbound odyssey the train pulls out at Kankakee, Rolls along past houses, farms and fields... The Housatonic River meandering along to our left. I kept looking into the woods we were passing to see if I might see one of the many bald eagles that have taken up residence in the area. Farms, beautiful farms, green pastures, old barns, old houses. It really was a beautiful ride, and it really gives a glimpse into Connecticut's history. The views were so different than what I usually see on my daily ride into Hartford for work.

The bad. The weather. This is April, mid April. Come on! Mother Nature are you punking me??? It felt more like November or early December. Cold. 40's at the start and I am not sure the temperature made it into the 50's. Windy. Not breezy, windy. Like Billy said the other day, "how come the weather people are never wrong about the wind?" They can be wrong about the temp, or the rain, but they are never wrong about the wind. And that cold wind made me think it was more like the first of December, not mid April. Cold, bitterly so. It would come up and hit me head on just as I was cresting a hill, and then stay with me as I made my descent.  The every once in a while a gust of cross wind would come up and just about knock me off the bike. At one point there was a little tornado made of old dead leaves that got stirred up. Like I said, more like November or December than April. And then, when it felt like the wind and the cold couldn't get any worse, it started to rain. Thankfully it waited until we were within a couple of miles of the commuter parking lot, and almost done with the ride. By the time we were done, I was cold, and tired, and in dire need of a hot cup of tea,which I got.  Thank you, Billy!


The downright ugly. The hills. While they are an integral part of the scenery, in a car they pose no problem. On a bike???? Different story. We left the commuter lot and started a nice relatively reasonable climb, with a nice downhill attached to it on the other side. One would think that if you go up, you will eventually come down. These hills just seemed to keep going up (and up and up and up).  Now, you might think I am making a mountain our of a molehill (sorry, am tired and a bit punchy), but I can assure you I am not. The official garmin (Daves unit) said we did 4611 feet of elevation gain, some of the hills had an 18% grade  For a ride of only 51 miles that is a lot of climbing. That is about what the Lake Tahoe ride has in 100 miles! I think I conquered it fairly well. I stopped to catch my breath once, which was a good move, except I should have looked for a somewhat flatter spot to stop. It was quite steep at that spot and I had trouble getting going again and landed in the soft sod on the side of the road, with my legs tangled in my bike so that I couldn't get up. Thankfully, I got a helping hand from Jen.  I walked about 10 feet and found a flat-ish driveway and was able to get back on the bike and continue my ascent.  It seemed as though the hills just kept coming and coming, with no relief. Once we were a little over three quarters of the way done, things leveled out and gave us more gentle rolling hills, with ups and downs, and less of the steep grades.

This ride, prepares us for Lake Tahoe. But what the heck am I doing here? On a Saturday??? I didn't have to work! I could have been home, warm and snug with a good book or my recipe box and my oven mitts. But nooooo, I chose to be out in horrible weather, riding up horrible hills (okay, they made for a pretty picture, I will give them that!). Then Jen (who is wise beyond her 30 or so years) said.... we choose to be here, we choose to be doing this. So, if we are walking up a hill, pushing a bike, we will do that with our heads held high. The patients we ride for don't choose to have leukemia, they don't choose their disease. So, with that, I am going to relish the choice I made to do this, to do this for someone else, and in the name of someone else. And,  I am going to give myself a pat on the back for making it up those hills, and maybe a cookie or two.

Inspired

Feeling inspired.. yes INSPIRED :)
Maybe because ever so subtly spring is showing signs of being right around the corner. Even when it is 24 degrees out, it still feels like a warmer 24 degrees than it does when it is 24 degrees in January.
Maybe it is because the Tahoe cycle team had it's first outdoor training last Saturday, and we will be outside riding again this Saturday. Being outside was so refreshing, and man o man did I ever sleep good after the ride (including a nap on Sunday!)
Maybe it is the ESPN video of Jamie Botteon (leukemia survivor) that picked me up. What a great smile that kid has, and what spirit. Wish we could put that in a bottle and sell it.
Maybe it is because I have hit my initial fundraising goal of $3,000, and I plan to exceed that, little by little.

Heck.. maybe it is because I just made a commitment to do yet another 100 mile ride.. this one in Tucson, AZ.. in November.

Whatever the reason, I am not going to sit here and ponder why I am feeling so inspired.. I am just going to enjoy the heck out of it!

Being Bold!

I never thought that I was being bold. That is until the other day, when I was reading the prayer of St. Francis ( often called the Peace Prayer of St. Francis). Yes, I know. Churchy. I am getting churchy. I don't impose my beliefs on anyone, I  just want to lead a good life, and be a good person. And... this one prayer really speaks to me. I can pretty much recall the day in my Catholic elementary school (Blessed Sacrament, on Central Ave, in Albany), when I learned this prayer. And I remember memorizing the words, because back then, if you didn't memorize, Sister Teresa Marie (Sister Teresa Meanie, to me) would come down the row, stop at your desk and startle you with her wooden pointer and call you by last name. Then, you would promptly stand at attention and try not to let her see you shaking as you made your way to the front of the class to let the whole room know that you did not memorize your prayer. So memorize I did! So much that I still remember every word. I may have known the words back in 4th grade, but I didn't fully understand what it all meant. Even now, I still consider myself in the 'learning phase' of life, I am still trying to figure it all out.

The St. Francis prayer asks for strength, the strength to respond to hatred with love, the strength to respond  to sadness with joy, to injury with pardon. You are asking for the strength to respond to someone or something in exactly the opposite way.  You are asking for the strength to give of ourselves to meet the needs of others. Sometimes, as humans we are called upon to bring to our world the opposite of what we find in it. We are asked to treat people the opposite way of how they treat us. Every once in a while, we are asked to turn the world upside down. And, that is a scary business. And, in my opinion, this is quite bold.

My mother would always admonish me when I was being a selfish brat (imagine! me! a selfish brat!), that "it is better to give than to receive". Taking that one step further, in the words of the St. Francis prayer, "it is in giving that we receive", in giving to others we receive peace and blessings a million times over. Yeah. Right.
 Well, yeah. I found it. I saw it, and I felt it. The fundraising, the training, getting ready to go to Tahoe did not prepare me for how much I was going to receive. The support of those around me, and those that were complete strangers really touched my heart. They were thanking me for doing the fundraising and the training, and the ride!  All along, it should have been me thanking them, because I felt like I received what I gave a million times over.
To all of you who have helped with my fundraising  for Tahoe 2010, and 2011 (some of you having done both), thank you for having the strength to give of yourself to meet the needs of others. May you be blessed a million times over!

In case you don't have it memorized, or just need a refresher:

The St. Francis Prayer (or the Peace Prayer of St. Francis)
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy;
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Tailwinds,
Karen

Christmas Eve Post

 I think I have this whole Christmas thing figured out. Do all the work early, so when Christmas Eve rolls around you can sit and chill. I am lovin' it. I will cook dinner later on since we won't have family dinner tomorrow because I have to work... and, no, don't feel bad.  It is part of healthcare and I will get time and a half, and hopefully there will be no trauma's. Anyway, back to the Christmas thing. Every year it is the same, the same date, lots of people follow the same traditions, customs, but yet, when it gets here it always seems new. Midnight Mass is always stirring, the stars (if they are out) are a little brighter. Our  hopes for the days to come are maybe a little bit more positive, heck., maybe someday we will really know "Peace on Earth".  Every year, even though Christmas is the same, it is always new exciting and wonderful (as in full of wonder).

Then I started thinking about doing Tahoe again. Will it be as exciting and thrilling as it was last year? Will the dinner be as inspirational? Will I raise as much money? Will I be a better rider? Will I be able to get up the switchbacks faster, do Spooner without stopping a gazillion times to take in the view? Will training be easier? Will I get bored doing the same rides as last year?

Then it hit me! Beginners Mind!  I need my beginners mind! I first learned of Beginners Mind a few years ago in massage school. It made sense to me then, and perhaps it makes even more sense now.

Beginners Mind, or Shoshin (初心) is a Zen Buddhist concept, it means having an attitude or openness, an eagerness, and a lack of preconceived notions when studying a subject.  Even if you are studying at an advanced level, keep your attitude open, see something, experience something as if you have never seen it or experienced it before.

Shunryu Suzuki said it best when he said: In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, in the expert's mind there are few.


I went down to the cellar and dug out the book from massage school and started to read up on Beginners Mind. I came upon some of the following words, that really put it into perspective for me. Not only in reference to Christmas, riding Tahoe, raising money etc.. but also in reference to starting a New Year.

"So to begin, we must all empty our cups of all the preconceived ideas, concepts, techniques and methods that prevent us from receiving the new. This seems like a simple thing to do, but can be quite difficult in practice. At first we think we are emptying our cups but as we drink from the new knowledge we detect residual tastes of the "old". Sometimes this new mixture can be sweet, like adding honey to tea, but sometimes even a little residue can curdle the whole mix, like adding lemon juice to milk. We must not only empty our cups, but make sure we have a "clean receptacle" so we may taste the "true essence" of the new knowledge". Darren Hansen.

Another aspect of developing the beginners mind revolves around getting rid of the "Been There, Done That" attitude. How many times have you heard that one! Been there, done that, got the T-shirt to prove it. Really now! So, yeah, we have all been there and done that, but did you really see the big picture? Or, did you only see the pieces of the whole?

When it comes to Tahoe, I have been there. I have seen the scenery, ridden the ride. I raised the money. I was inspired and accomplished. I was touched by the number of people out in support of the LLS, and of the number of people that were there in honor or in memory of someone touched by leukemia, lymphoma or myeloma.  When it comes to Tahoe, I have done that. I felt my legs burn getting up the switchbacks, battled the headwind on the way out of Truckee, enjoyed the sandwich at King's Beach and slowly turned the pedals over trying to conquer Spooner and yes, had a scary flat tire on the way down the biggest 'hill' I even want to ride a bike down (thank you very much!).

Yup folks, been there, done that. So this time, I am going to go out there with my cup empty. I am letting go of what last year's ride was like.  Just like this Christmas is a new Christmas. I have that clean receptacle to enjoy this Christmas for what it is, to learn and to experience it with new eyes. I will do the same with Tahoe. I plan on enjoying Tahoe 2011 for what it is, for seeing the big picture, not just the pieces of it I saw last year.I am going to ride Tahoe 2011 (Ambbr 11) with a sense of awe, and a feeling of excitement (much like this Christmas). I will learn or see something new even though I have been there and done that. And.. after my cup is full I will empty it again by drinking deeply and savoring it's wonderful taste.

Enjoy your Christmas with a Beginners Mind.

Peace (hopefully on Earth) and as always .. Tailwinds.
Karen

Pics from the Anniversary Ride :)

Barkhamsted Reservoir

Barkhamsted Reservoir

The long and the short of it... Billy and Keith

Billy and Karen

Pre ride :)

Happy Anniversary Dear Synapse

Bike is officially put away for the winter. Sadness. I miss riding. I really miss being outside.

I guess my last ride, was my last ride (for this year). The Saturday after Thanksgiving was the one year anniversary of my first ride on my new bike, so it seemed only fitting that Bill, Keith and me, would set out and ride the same route we did last year.

That first ride was really special. I had flat pedals, no cages or cleats, I rode in sneakers. I didn't have a bike jacket, I wore one of Tyler's underarmors, a sweatshirt and my "Final Four" windbreaker. I had an old pair of weightlifting gloves that did the job for my hands. I didn't have any real bike shorts, but I did have a pair of knickers with padding that I wore for spin class, so they were what I had to cover my bottom half.

My makeshift bike clothing was only surpassed by my total lack of knowledge about my bike, and biking in general. Bill pulled out his tire pump and asked me if I needed to pump up my tires. My answer... NO! The bike is brand new, I just picked it up from the bike shop the week before, why would I need to pump the tires!?!?!?! I had not yet learned the Team in Training mantra "pump before you ride".

We left the parking area and started out from the parking area in Unionville, and headed out to Collinsville. We stopped at LaSalle Market for tea and muffins, then continued on. The hill on RT 44, heading up 219, going by the turnoff for Ski Sundown, around the Barkhamsted Reservoir, stopping for some pictures, riding back down the other side and back out to 44. We made a second stop at LaSalle and then headed home.

It really struck me how much easier the ride was this year, November 2010, as opposed to November 2009. The hills were easier, I kept up with Bill and Keith (for the most part). I am much more stable on the bike, I know how to shift, I can move over in traffic to take a turn, I can lead a pace line, I know how to draft. And, most importantly, I know how to dress! A lot has changed, and all for the better. What a difference a year makes!

Tailwinds,
Karen

Alfredo's Road to Remission

This post is going to tell you the story of someone other than myself. This person's story reaffirms in me why I am still sitting on this God-awful bike seat (okay so it is not as God-awful as the last one, but still pretty hard), and why I am going to ride Lake Tahoe again this year.
Last weekend, I went to visit NYC with some friends. Our big goal for the day was to have brunch and then hit Junior's in Times Square for a piece of cheesecake. We were successful on both counts. Brunch was great and the cheescake.. OH. MY. GOD. It was an M.O. (and if any of you need to know what an M.O. is ask my friend Marie.. she works for Ortho Clinical Diagnostics and she is the one that coined the phrase). Anyway, my friend Bill had invited his friend Alfredo and his sister Aileen to join us for brunch. Bill knows Alfredo through his wife Cindy who... so on and so on.. lets just say they are family friends. I knew that Alfredo was a survivor and that he was going to run the ING NYC marathon the next day. I was excited about meeting some new people, but not as excited as I was about cheesecake.

Alfredo and Aileen showed up at brunch, we talked about the marathon, and Alfredo's plan for running the race, what kind of time he hoped for etc. Alfredo was running as a member of TNT and he had raised over $12,000! Way to go Alfredo!
Talk eventually turned to the disease that Alfredo is fighting. I asked him how he found out he was sick. His answer was honest, and rather disturbing. It started with a cough. A cough that he thought was just due to a cold or the change of seasons. But when the cough didn't go away, and he started coughing up blood, he knew he needed to check it out. So, he headed home (Wallingford), and they found a tumor the size of a football in his chest and was diagnosed in November of 2008 with Stage IV-B Hodgkins Lymphoma. Stage IV is the most advanced stage of Hodgkins Lymphoma, how could this happen to a 27 year old kid?

Chemotherapy lasted almost a year, and ended with Alfredo getting a stem cell transplant. The only exercise he could do was to take small steps around the hospital floor, IV pole in tow. Eventually the news was good. Alfredo was (and is) in remission. Eventually the small difficult steps became a walk, which turned into a jog, which turned into a run.

Last weekend, on November 7, 2010 Alfredo ran, and finished the ING NYC marathon. Alfredo raised over $12,000 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. He gave back. He gave back to help others that are fighting now. He gave back so that maybe someday the word 'remission' with be replaced with the word 'cure'.

After Alfredo and Aileen left to go pick up his bib for the marathon and we left to make our way to Junior's, I thought about what an honor it was to meet this young man. A kid with a big wide grin and a warmth and good humor about him. A kid that handled with courage something none of us want to face.

This year, I will ride Tahoe in celebration. In celebration of Alfredo's remission. In celebration of all the strides research has made in fighting blood related cancers. In celebration of my cycle team, because together we can do more than any one of us can do alone. And hopefully, someday, in celebration of a cure.

Tailwinds,
Karen

Long Time, No Blog

It has been ages since I have sat myself down long enough to put a post up here on Talewinds. So here goes... my summer in a nutshell.

Tyler was home from college. Grocery bill went up, toilet was constantly plugged and my house smelled of Axe. All the time. Electric bill went up, water bill went up. The garbage can was always full. He is back at college and I miss having him home. I do not miss his dirty baseball uniform.

Kelly had a blood clot in her lung. Serious. She has recovered, but is on Coumadin. Old peoples medicine. We found that she is a mutant. Or, I should say, she has the Factor V Leiden mutation, which makes her prone to clotting. Not good. No more oral contraceptives or any estrogen based product. She is back in the saddle, riding her horses, rescuing her racehorses, and 'just being' (Kelly).

Matt made an appearance in July. New girlfriend in tow. I like her. I like the him he has grown into. I like her with him. She brings him out of his shell a little bit. To any of you with a son that is mildly defiant, not into school and always does when you say don't.. there is hope. I feel like Matt has become a friend. Mommy likes.

I am still pedaling! Yes!!! Training for a new ride, a FLAT ride! It will be on October 9, and originates in Salisbury, MD. I thought that a FLAT ride would be easy peasy. Hah! Was I wrong or what. Seems as though on FLAT rides you have to pedal the whole time. Coach always joked that Tahoe is 50% downhill (okay so it is 50% uphill), but still, on the downhill you can coast some. On the flat, you pedal. All the time. Anyway, even though it will be a FLAT ride, it is supposed to be very pretty and circles around and out to Asateague Island. I am excited and hope to see some of the ponies. Maybe I can bring one home ;)

Promise to post again soon, about the team and the training.. and oh yes... my plan to do Tahoe again.

Talewinds!

Biked it ~ Liked it

Two sentences (or phrases) sum up the experience.

1. Biked it ~ Liked it!
My bike is a kick ass piece of machinery, and I love it. The area is really, really, really gorgeous. I have never worked so hard, or struggled so much in one day in my life, I have also never felt so accomplished in my life. I can ride up hills... I can ride down hills... although I still really hate riding down hills.

2. GO TEAM!
My team has become like family, and each of us wants to see the others succeed. . We were so supported, by the staff, by each other, by perfect strangers. We were all united... to get closer to a cure, one mile at a time. On an endurance event, support along the way is critical. The cow bells, the signs, the people cheering us on, the man in the SPAM hat, all served to keep me going. One person can't do this alone, but together we can do anything. I really, really, really miss my team. Charryse, Jen, Cathy... I have faith in the future because of the strong young women you are. You amaze me. Viktoria.... you are not only a survivor, you are one tough cookie that showed me age is only a number. Henry, thank you so much for not making me change my own flat tire, and also for understanding when I entered the BM zone (Bite me zone)


What I found...... my strength, my courage, empathy...... when someone has faith in you, it is easier to have faith in yourself.......life is tough, we need to stick together.....Spooner is done, stick a fork in it........challenge yourself, you might be surprised at the outcome.

We will find a cure for these cancers, someday, we have to.

On to the next adventure... Seagull Century in Maryland, in October. Stay tuned.

A Bloomin' Good Time!

Last Sunday (May 23) I rode in my first organized large ride. The Bloomin' Metric. A 100 KM (about 62 mile) ride beginning in Norwalk, CT and winding it's way through some really pretty countryside, past large estates, lots of hills for those of us so inclined (hahaha... get it?), and what seemed to be a million riders, most of them passing me at a high rate of speed.

Despite being with my team and trying to stay within a few minutes of my pals from the "Blue group" (slow), and the huge number of people around at times, I found myself quite alone. I am not complaining, I rather liked it. It gave me time to think, to take in the view and there was no one around when I let out a huge snarl because I was in the wrong gear when starting a rather large hump in the road.. okay it was a hill. (To quote Coach Bob, "It's a HILL, GET OVER IT!!!" (hahaha.... get it?)

I found people to follow, my thanks to the guy in the Dos Equis (XX) jersey, he was fun and easy to follow. and if I needed a diversion all I had to do was yell "Hey Dos Equis, CAR BACK"... and he would give me a friendly wave.

Once had my horse (okaaaayyyyy... my bike) headed down the backstretch, there were a couple of times I got teary eyed. This wasn't my big event, but it was still an accomplishment. I thought about my heroes, those that are battling leukemia and lymphoma and winning. I thought about the ones that have not won the battle, and those that don't even know that a battle lies ahead of them.

Rolling into the parking lot, finishing the ride, seeing the rest of my blue group finish filled me with pride in how far WE (yes WE) have come. But, more importantly, the ride itself, getting there was something to be savored.

Peace,
Karen

What I learned on the 80 mile ride

1) Don't even put your leg over the bar without a helmet on your head.
2) Always keep "Our Lady" in the bike bag.
3) Enjoy the scenery
4) I can ride over a grated swing bridge with a strong cross wind and not fall on my keester
5) Sometimes, if you look in the right direction, at precisely the right time, nature shows you something spectacular
6) I still HATE snakes, even if they are dead in the middle of the road
7) If you hit a squirrel going downhill at 34 mph... there is dinner. Tastes like chicken.
8)When you have to call 911 remember not to get frustrated because they are going to ask you the same questions twice.
9) when someone is hurt it seems like forever for an ambulance to come.
10) ICE.. In case of emergency... program it in your phone.
11) Sometimes, the people you really need are put right in front of you.. like the doctor and nurse that stopped to help.. what are the chances, I mean really, what are the chances that a doctor and nurse would be there when my teammates had an accident.
12) The kindness of strangers can be relied on. Truly.

Hallelujah!

Hallelujah! I am loving my new bike seat. Yes, I used the L-word. Love, Love, LOVE my new bike seat...
The original seat that came on the bike was great on the ischial tuberosities (sits bones), but not so much on the soft tissue. The second seat I tried was better, but still not great. I kept having to stop pedaling to readjust my position, and every time I did, I would hear Coach in the background telling me to keep pedaling... how do I tell him politely that I have to rearrange my lady parts? Then.. there were the blood blisters. Not good. Unhappy hoohoo.
So, enter saddle number 3. Not the most expensive by any means, and probably not the lightest, but so far, the most comfortable. The cut away part is just in the right spot and it seems to be just the right size for my ischial tuberosities, and I like the little cut out in the back for my tailbone. I have only ridden it twice, 25 miles last night, and only about 15 tonight, but just the feeling of being on it, I know it will be fine on longer rides. And... I have a happy hoohoo.

On another happy note, fundraising is at $5820.00... wondering if I can make it an even 6K?