 I have been an avid cyclist for… oh, about 4 months now.
I have my big sister Anne to thank for my newfound love of cycling.
We’ve been roommates for the past few years, and we tend to find new hobbies for each other. It’s sort of our thing.
So when she started riding, of course I had to join in. Little did I know how much it would change me.
I’d done my share of riding before, of course.
In fact, my sole method of transportation for the first two years of college was a purple Raleigh B.S.O.
To be fair, it probably was a somewhat decent bike at one point in time and doesn’t really deserve that label.
But by the time it came into my life, it was in sorry shape. Furthermore, it seemed to be built for someone who was about 6′1, and male (that’s not me).
And it probably didn’t help that bike maintenance wasn’t really my top priority.
Ah, my Raliegh. The chainrings were so worn that the chain would pop off every time I climbed a hill.
Maybe I should have lubricated it once in a while…
I also didn’t own a tire pump (or a helmet, or a light - NOT SMART). I pumped up my tires once (in 2 years), at a gas station (I wouldn’t recommend that either, BTW).
On the bright side, all that rolling resistance did give me a pretty good workout.
So when the Raliegh got stolen, I didn’t shed too many tears.
I had a car by that time, and I wasn’t using the bike much anyway. Come to think of it, maybe that’s how it came to be stolen. Anyway, being a starving college student, I never got around to replacing it until just recently.
So Anne and I started by riding to our piano lessons across town. It was exhausting the first time, but much easier the next. Then we started taking our bikes on the bus to work and riding the 11 or so miles home. That got easier, too. Now I ride to and from work, pretty much every day.
So when Anne told me about the Tour de Cure, we both knew we had to ride the century. 100 miles. It was meant to be.
If you’d asked me 4 months ago whether I’d ever ride a century, I would have given you a funny look.
Then the laughter would have started.
And I mean real, side-splitting laughter.
Tears rolling down my cheeks and everything.
Then again, I also never thought I’d walk into the office every morning wearing a fluorescent yellow jacket, a helmet and a GPS device. And more spandex than a children’s production of The Nutcracker.
And so a few short months later I’m in the best shape of my life, and having an amazing time training for the Tour de Cure. Just goes to show people can change.
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