Biking
For most people, this weekend’s holiday was Labor Day. For others, it was a different holiday. The official kickoff of the season known as college football.
Perhaps you can tell which team the husband’s side of the family pulls for…
Before heading over to the in-laws’ to watch the first game of the season, Grandma picked up the little guy and the husband and I headed out on our first bike ride together in at least a year. We’re gearing up for our two-day bike ride extravaganza for MS, and neither one of us has put nearly enough time in the saddle. This was actually the husband’s first ride of the year.
Of course he kicked my butt the whole ride, as if he’d been training all year and it was my first time on the bike. We rode a few loops at the park so we could avoid dealing with cars on the road. When we got tired {which didn’t take long} we headed back to the car. I pulled my phone {yes, the rice worked!} out of my bag and saw we rode a whopping 7.5 miles.
7 and a half.
That’s not going to cut it! The plan was to ride again this morning but it’s pouring rain.
It’s funny, I started riding my bike when my body couldn’t handle running without injury, but my body is just not made for biking. I watch people fly past me right and left, uphill and down, and I just pedal, pedal, pedal away, never catching up.
I suppose it’s just a challenge I’ll have to keep working on, because nothing worth it is ever easy, right? But I long for the day when I can head out for a long run and not have it hurt.
So how did you celebrate the long weekend? Run a race? Cookout? Lounge around? Obsess over fantasy drafts and first football games?
Biking
As I rolled out of bed for the umpteenth time that night and saw it was only 3 am, I immediately thought there’s no way I’m riding today.
My first bike ride since last July was in the AM. I was finally ready. It was Saturday morning and the husband was home to hang out with the little guy.
I was meeting a friend for a group ride at a nearby park.
But I was tired. Oh so tired. I’m pretty used to the broken sleep, but this night in particular was pretty rough. But I couldn’t bail on a friend waiting for me.
Good thing she was going otherwise I definitely would’ve backed out. Note to self: be held accountable by someone else.
I dusted off my bike the day before and pumped the tires full of fresh air. The tubes were so flat it took my entire body weight to get enough pressure on the air pump. In the morning I fought through the cobwebs and attached the bike carrier to the car. Phew, I remembered how to get it on by myself. I gathered my shoes, gloves, helmet, snacks, and water bottle, and hoisted my bike on the rack.
All ready to go, I headed back inside to fuel up for my ride. I had no idea how far we were riding, where we were riding, or how many people would show up. Not only was it my first ride in almost exactly a year, it was my first group ride- ever. Yeah, I was a little terrified.
Finally it was time to go. I tossed the baby into bed with the still groggy husband and kissed them both goodbye. Yes, at 6 months I still hate being away from him for a single second.
I pulled up to the park and searched for bikes. I had no idea who I was meeting, but figured a group of bikes in the parking lot would clear it up pretty quickly. I was immediately put at ease when I pulled in and passed group after group of runners, just finishing up their weekend long runs, having started early to beat the oppressive heat. Running through this park was familiar territory. It’d been awhile, but it was still familiar and comforting.
Finally at the back of the parking lot, I saw the bikes. I was oddly relieved when I saw someone wearing sneakers. That meant they weren’t all elite time trial cycling beasts. {And yes, that person still kicked my butt on the bike. Don’t judge a biker by his shoes.}
I parked off to the side and pulled my bike from the rack, slipped into my shoes, and slid my helmet on my head. Only then did I make eye contact. Yup, it was them.
Relief. They weren’t going to attack me.
We sat and waited for the last minute stragglers. I chatted with a few riders and immediately found another mom who struggled to find time to ride; a teenager riding with his dad; a couple older men who had no interest in keeping up with the speed-demons on the road. I immediately felt at ease as he explained the route they had planned. All paths I had run before and barely any road. I’m still scared of the road.
Just as the group set off for the 24 mile ride, my friend pulled up. Whew. She hopped on her bike and took off. Ahhh, here goes nothing. I still wasn’t sure I’d remember how to clip in. There was no time left to be nervous, I had to get going.
With minimal fumbling, I hopped on, clipped in, and took off.
Long story short- I survived. 15 miles. I could barely keep up and it didn’t matter. I had to turn around a little more than half way since I’d only left one bottle ready for the kiddo. Tackling this training thing will be a little harder with that in mind, but nothing we can’t figure out.
Race
24 hours
1,200 riders
400 reboot riders
400 volunteers
99 degrees
110 degree heat index
4 meals
15 between meal snacks
4 team members
$1.25 million dollars
10 years
8 bajillion Powerades {exactly}
Countless waters
=
The one & only 24 Hours of Booty
We knew it was going to be a tough one this year when the car thermometer read 101 degrees Friday morning on the way to the event. By the time we’d pulled up to Queens University at noon, unloaded our bikes, staked out a camping area, and moved the car, we were already jonesing for cold drinks.
We spent the first four hours of our adventure volunteering- the husband and our other teammate Andrea directed traffic like pros, and my mom and I helped with stuffing bags and packet pickup.
The drinks didn’t arrive until we were mostly through our shift, and we snatched them up before they even had a chance to get cold. It was the beginning of the Powerade-drinking marathon.
We had a little bit of time between the end of our volunteer shift and the official start of the event, so we set up our tents, prepped our bikes, and took ice cold showers in the campus athletic center- a complete and totally luxury of the Charlotte event.
The hour before the first lap of the evening was spent with introductions and awards. The Charlotte event alone surpassed the $1.25 million dollar mark this year; an incredible accomplishment.
Awards were distributed to the highest fundraisers, and the 2011 edition of the “Booty charm’” was given to a handful of deserving survivors and influential participants. One of them was my mom!
A local meteorologist & two-time cancer survivor gave an official weather report of “you don’t want to know how hot it is”, although she gave us the clue that the reported forecast temperatures are taken in the shade, and you can expect sunny areas to be 15 degrees hotter. Yikes.
Spencer Leuders, the man that started it all, was surprised with a scholarship in his name to go to four students at Queens University dealing with cancer themselves or in their family. It’s hard to imagine 10 years ago a lawyer borrowed a bike and rode it for 24 hours to raise money for cancer- just look at what it turned in to.
By 7, it was time for the ride to start. First up, the survivor parade lap, led by Sir Purr of the Carolina Panthers and Bob Roll, former professional cyclist and Tour de France announcer.
There goes mom!
The Booty loop is a 2.97 mile loop through the gorgeous neighborhood of Myers Park in Charlotte. The road is lined with skyscraping trees and humongous houses. The neighbors came out, set up chairs and tents, and cheered for the riders late into the night.
We spent most of our 24 hours brainstorming words that accurate conveyed the temperature. “Hot” just simply wasn’t enough. By the middle of the night, the temperatures had cooled slightly- still hot, but bearable. I waited until the sun started going down before hopping on my bike, and rode as late into the night as I could.
Even at night, the course was crowded and packed with cyclists. The number of serious, skilled cyclists surprised me compared to last year’s ride. I can’t tell you how many times I was startled by a flying paceline of cyclists soaring just inches past me. Fairly intimidating, while at the same time, pretty inspiring. If only they knew how lucky they were to not have me swerve into them in surprise!
After attempting a few hours of sleep, it was back on the bike at the crack of dawn. I’d ridden 32 miles by early breakfast. After grabbing a quick bite to eat {oatmeal included!}, we headed to the survivor hour event. My mom is a 16 year survivor, and this year friends and family were invited to join the survivors for a special breakfast.
We not only heard inspiring stories of courage and survival, but we learned exactly what kind of power raising money for 24 Hours of Booty has, and what kinds of programs it makes possible. We learned about where cancer research is going and why, and we learned about the progress Lance Armstrong and the Livestrong Foundation are making.
As we sat in the survivor tent, we could feel the temperature soaring. By the time it was over, we were back to coming up with new expressions for the insane heat.
I don’t do well with heat. I drank and drank and drank, but by the time survivor hour was over, I knew it was time for me to hang up my helmet. I was disappointed that I wouldn’t even meet my mileage from last year {on a better bike and a better course}, but I knew it was what I had to do.
I’m still amazed at the number of people that kept going strong throughout the day. I’m both in awe and impressed by how little they let the heat affect them.
After touring “Bootyville” and visiting some of the vendors, the husband headed out for a few more laps {determined to beat my mileage}. He did great, but came back with the report that it was just too hot. Saturday’s loop was even more crowded as the loop was cut down to one lane, and 400 more riders joined the course for the day.
By the time lunch rolled around, we were struggling to find shade, stay cool, and drink enough. At some point my team realized none of us were riding, and we were just going downhill in the heat. We made the ultimate decision to pack up our stuff and head home a little early. Both disappointing, necessary, and an intelligent decision in the end. {My stomach is still paying for the mass quantities of Powerade consumed.}
Despite the outrageous heat, 24 Hours of Booty was yet again an incredible event to be a part of. You could feel the heartbeat of the Charlotte cycling community serge through the campground. There were people that had been doing this for years, and you can feel the dedication and commitment. The staff that runs the event is incredible, both in their ability to keep such a large event organized, and in their friendly demeanor. The volunteers that come willingly come out in such heat and insane hours of the night show what it’s really all about.
The two events I’ve done now, one in Columbia and one in Charlotte, are completely different from each other, and it was great to experience both of them. I can’t wait for what next year may bring.
Biking
Last year I participated in an event that was unlike any other. It was a physical event, yes, but one that went way beyond that. It didn’t matter how far you could run, how fast you could cycle, or what kind of shape you were in. It just mattered that you cared.
Of course, it didn’t hurt if you could handle cycling for a couple hours. Ok, more than a couple. Try 24. 24 hours of cycling.
At first I thought the idea was insane. But after lying in my tent at 3 in the morning, covered from head to toe in sweat and dirt, wondering if I should go back out for another loop, I realized it was anything but crazy.
It was a lot of things:
It was a race event I could do even though I was injured.
It was spending time with family.
It was hearing amazing stories of victory and accomplishment, both in life and athletics.
It was watching off-road unicyclists lap you over and over.
It was lots of food. Lots and lots.
It was a lot to pack for a bike ride.
It was meeting new people.
It was camping out all night by myself.
It was 100,000 degrees.
It was challenging.
It was rewarding.
It was an absolute “I have to do this again” event.
So we are. My mom and I are tackling the 24 hour bike ride again this year.
Only this year we’re coming to the home of 24 Hours of Booty- to the infamous Booty Loop in Charlotte where it all started 9 years ago.
And this time the husband’s joining us! He has no idea what he’s getting himself into. 
<—our team this year
24 Hours of Booty is special because it supports cancer; a horrible disease that has affected way too many people. The Charlotte event supports the Lance Armstrong Foundation, The Brain Tumor Fund of the Carolinas, and the Keep Pounding Fund, established by former Panthers’ coach Sam Mills and player Mark Fields.
Want to support the fight against cancer? You can donate to 24 Hours of Booty here, or you can have a little fun and play a game of cancer tag that has absolutely nothing to do with 24HOB, but raises cancer awareness which is just as important. Play tag4cancer on Twitter!
You can also sign up for an online account with the Bee Well for Life program– every mile you log, whether swimming, cycling, or running- results in a donation to an emotional support program for those affected by breast cancer.
Track your training and make a difference- it’s win-win!
Race
From events like Relay for Life to 24 Hours of Booty, an event that lasts literally an entire day & night is unlike any other event you’ll do, and it’s one that absolutely everybody can do- no matter your ability, size, age, shape, or training.
Here’s why:
1. You don’t need to be an elite athlete. Heck, you don’t even need to be an athlete- a repeated loop means it doesn’t matter how fast or how long you go, you’re still in the middle of the action.
2. Even if you are an athlete, you can participate with people that aren’t, and still do it together. There’s no other “endurance” event that I could have done with my mom.
3. You’ll be inspired in ways you never expected. Volunteers are amazing regardless, but try finding volunteers that will make peanut butter banana sandwiches at midnight, or sit at an abandoned intersection on the course alone at 3 in the morning. Now that’s incredible.
4. When you see an 11 & 13 year complete over 100 miles, you’ll realize you’re probably capable of more than you thought.
5. It’s a great way to expose kids (or non active people) to physical activity. Because of the loop set up, kids can easily join in for a lap or two (or more). I didn’t even know this kind of stuff existed when I was a kid.
6. The options are endless. Bicycle, unicycle, tandem, walk, run, skip, hop. Whatever means you choose, goes.
7. Food. Lots of food.
8. Friends & family can join you even if they’re not participating. They can volunteer, spectate, cheer, or keep you company for the night.
9. The money raised goes to a good cause.
10. How much you do is up to you- you’ll learn how strong you are not only physically, but mentally.
11. Exercising on minimal sleep is a different experience than being well rested.
12. No other endurance event occurs in the dark in the middle of the night. When else could you do that safely?
13. Even the shyest of shy can make new friends. When you’re together for 24+ hours, you’re bound to start talking. Plus, you already know something they’re interested in, and there’s probably a story behind what got them to the event.
14. The shower after 24 hours of sweat, dirt, & sunscreen will be the best shower of your life.
15. The night after 24 hours of sweat, dirt, & sunscreen will be the best sleep of your life.
16. You get to see a beautiful sunset.
17. You get to see a beautiful sunrise.
18. You get automatic bragging rights: “I _______ for 24 hours” (biked, walked, etc.)
19. You’ll be able to cover distances you never thought possible. Biking 4 miles then resting and biking 4 more is less tiring than bike 8 miles in a row.
20. You’ll be able to hone your inner Girl Scout skills. When’s the last time you pitched a tent by yourself?
21. You can safely participate even if you are injury prone (or injured).
22. You’ll hear amazing stories from amazing people- on the course, at home base, on the campground. 24 hours is a lot more time than a few minutes during a race.
23. The minute it’s over you’ll be inspired to do it again next year- only bigger & better.
24. You get to be part of something much, much bigger than yourself.
P.P.S. Clipless pedals rock. I’ve logged 60+ miles and I’m wipeout free (knock on wood). So don’t be scared of them. 😉
