To the Batmobile- LET'S GO!

The past few weeks have proved incredibly encouraging and I have nothing but more and more excitement about leaving for this trip. I know my legs, and my butt, and my body, and everything else, are going to be incredibly sore, but I truly, idealistically, and wonderfully believe that this trip is going to be incredibly glorious. You. Me. A Bike. A cornfield. Jesus. What could be better? I, too, am excited about falling in love with Jesus and with everyone else on this trip. Holy. Cow.

A few weeks ago I was out riding on this great little bike trail near my house. It's about 12 miles from my house to the end of the trail, and I had been riding there and back once or twice a day for a while. Minus the DSDS (The Dumb Squirrel Death Squad, as I have affectionally named those kamikazee animals that are determined to cause their own death and my own epic bike crash every time I ride), its a pretty great trail. Shady, no cars, lots of riders. The only bad thing was its incredibly flat, I don't get used to riding with other people or on the roads, and it just started to get slightly boring. And there was always somethere to see me fall off my bike when I forgot to clip out of my pedals and KERPLUNK, toppled right over every time I stopped.

But, a few weeks ago I stopped to fill up my water bottles and there was a cyclist there doing the same thing. He asked where I had been riding from and offered to ride back with me and teach me a few tricks. I had never rid with anyone before, and so I happily accepted the offer. It was great to feel the wind tunnel pacelines with someone else for the first time.

I told him about the trip, and he was, of course, excited, and he invited me to come riding with his cycling friends that next Saturday. Thank God for Ron, because I feel much more prepared after what commenced:

I arrived Saturday to a packed parking lot full of very professional looking cyclists who all had thunderous thigh muscles and matching cycling jerseys. Note to self: Leave the camelback at home next time. And yes, its possible to look like a nerd when you're the only one NOT wearing bike shorts.

WOW. These kids were NO JOKE.

That first day proved a little bit tough. I was scared of riding in a straight line so close to others at a fast speed. I knew nothing about shifting gears. I wheezed my way through 32 miles, and was dropped (even though two people thankfully stayed with me). I thought I was done for, and although all of the cyclists were incredibly encouraging, I totally sensed that they didn't think I was ready, nor that I would be.

When I got back to the parking lot, the ride leader offered to ride with me that week to give me some more pointers. We rode that Wednesday, and I rode with another group of cyclists that night. I also went to a spin class where I spun out three buckets of sweat. WHEW! I definitely work a LOT harder when I am with other people.

That was last week, and I went to the Saturday ride again, afraid that we would have a repeat of the week before, especially because I had only had 5 hours of sleep the night before. The first few miles were alright, and I kept up ok. My unofficially official coach was right there with me, making sure I shifted gears as much as I should and pushing me to keep up. Everyone else helped me remember to not stare at the tire in front of me and keep up with easy strokes and concentration. Before I even knew what happened, I ended up at the front of the paceline for about 20 seconds and pulled us all at 17 MPH.... I thought I was going to die. But I had made it! I stayed with the front pack! I wasn't dropped! When it was my turn to rotate out, I went to the back of the line and realized that our group had split up into two and I was with the faster and smaller person group. AAAWEEEESOMEE.

We pulled up to a gas station about Mile 28 where all of the groups (4 or 5) usually regroup to ride the last 4 miles together. The first, "race" group had left that morning about 15 minutes before we did, and we were the first of the other groups to make it there. I took of my helmet, clipped out of a shoe, and thought to myself "Man, some water would be so nice right now" and reached around and no sooner than coach yelled "Come, to the Batmobile- LETS GO!" Or he might have actually said "Quick, let's blow this popsicle stand!" or maybe "A tornado is coming! Let's get outta here!" But he actually said "Get that helmet on Jessica- We aren't stopping!!!" and we whizzed outta there before the rest of the group had a clue what had just happened. I felt like I was on a high speed car chase and the cops had just caught up. I had only jumped off my bike for about 8 seconds before we quick jumped and ran outta there. It was AWESSSSOOMMMEE. We left everyone in the dust with a daze in their eyes and I am sure they said "Wow, that is a cycling superhero" as I whirred out of site. Yes, they were definitely saying that.

Ok, so maybe they didn't think that. But I say all of this to say that every day I ride I feel like I am getting better than better. My coach and the rest of the riders are to thank; they've pushed me really hard, put me through some crazy interval training, pushed me up to 27 mph (and thankfully I don't have my bike computer yet because I would probably freak out if I knew I was going that fast), and sneakily pulled the paceline faster and faster before I realize I am going faster than I ever thought possible.

Thank you, Seminole Cyclists, and moreso thank you, Jesus, for introducing me to this group of people.

To say that I LOVE riding my bike is an understatement.

This summer is going to be awesome.

Bike. Jesus. Friends. Dirt. Water. Sweat. Sunshine. My seven favorite things all in one?

I. cannot. wait.