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A few months ago, back in December, I received an email I wasn't expecting. It said "Gretchen, Thank you for registering for the 2017 Iron Horse Bicycle Classic." And as I was reading this unbidden missive, I received a telephone call. My phone told me it was my best friend Stephanie. Suspicious these things were related, I answered with some trepidation. "I registered us for the Iron Horse," she said. "I thought it's something we would never do, so I thought we should do it."
This is her way, to compete with and challenge herself. To take herself out of her comfort zone and grow her experiences and strength. It is not necessarily my way. My way is about comfort and familiarity. And I like my way.
For a moment our friendship ties were severed.
Then I came to and realized I like her, I like my town and the people in it who ride this race, and I am a strong badass mother. So I said over a nervous laugh, "Okay. But I don't have a bike." "Me either. But there are lots of people who have bikes. We'll find some." And so all of a sudden I was training for a 50-mile, 5000-ft-elevation-gain bike slog from Durango to Silverton, Colorado. Aaauugh!!
Fast forward some months and some weekend rides (only one of which made me feel sick and necissitated a soak and a nap) and many bolstering tips from Bill. Now the ride is 4 days away and we have indeed both found bikes to borrow and chamois butters to ease discomfort. I'm alternately terrified, making plans for surrendering on the side of the highway, and confident, visualizing a triumphant coast across the finish line. Whatever happens will happen soon. And if nothing else, I feel like I've been a risk-taker just to attempt this already! Aaauugh!!
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