RAGBRAI 2019: The Tenth One

Hello Beaver Fam!

I have come out of my hidey hole/blog retirement to wish you annual season's greetings on this year's RAGBRAI. And, of course, I also have some feelings, so I am going to process them here. This is sort of a greeting card + milestone marker + therapy + PSA blog post. 

Ten years ago, on the eve of RAGBRAI, I was filled with anxiety and trepidation. In fact, I'd been hoping (not really [okay, maybe a bit]) that I would be struck by a minor catastrophic injury. Maybe a nice leg break? Something clean, not too painful, so that I wouldn't have to actually go on RAGBRAI. 

Yet my old blue and white Trek was packed up, and in the morn, I'd be departing for Council Bluffs, just as I will be tomorrow. Back then it was just me, Steven, and the Mayor (who wasn't even the Mayor, yet, or had not been named). Lexi was there too. We were using the Bike World charter, and I dipped my tires, and hoped for the best. 

Honestly, I don't know what I was worried about. I was the fittest I had been in a long time, having lost, that spring about 40 pounds, thanks to the Juice magazine fitness challenge. I'd been riding my bike on the Raccoon Valley Trail, and I'd been out at least 400 miles. My fears were totally unfounded. In my first 1/4 mile of RAGBRAI, some goofball next to me couldn't get unclipped at the traffic jam leaving the camp ground and fell over. And, on Monday or Tuesday I hit a crack and crashed my bike, chewing up my calf and my confidence, but with my pals, I powered through the pain, and nerves, and rain, and karaoke, and before long we were dipping our tires in Dubuque. Ah memories. 

Since that fateful first RAGBRAI, so much has changed. The embryo that Steven was cultivating on that first RAGBRAI, which made her make me help her fake drink so know one would know, is now a full human child with thoughts and emotions and hobbies. We've gone from the Bike World charter, to a cobbled together series of vans and drivers, to a full RV, and then back again. The team, which actually became a team in all these years, swelled to 14 people. We've got jerseys, and stickers, and koozies, and a reputation. (Last year, Pochy talked to some other rider and he asked how many people were on our team. When she said, "about 10," the guy was surprised because, "I see you guys everywhere.") 

Our non-RAGBRAI lives have changed as well. Friends and boyfriends have come and gone. Beavers have gotten married, divorced, advanced degrees, new houses. We've done all the major life stuff that is supposed to happen between the years of 27 and 37. 

This year, I am feeling a same-same, though different kind of RAGBRAI-nerves. For one, I am completely under trained. I haven't been on the MadOne once this year, though I have taken the MotherTrucker out for a few spins. I've had a very busy summer. I've been traveling, and sailing, and working, and buying a house. I'll admit, I over committed. And, bicycling seems to be one of the many things that has fallen by the wayside.

Also bicycling just doesn't hold the same magical appeal over me that it once did. I used to be crazy about riding my bike. I used to ride out to meet the Tiger on the trail, after he got off work, then he and I would ride out to Cumming for Tacopocalypse Night. It was so fun feeling strong, and free, and zooming along down those tree lined trails. Where did that go? (It doesn't help that I am not 27 anymore).

Now, I feel the same sort of crazy about sailing. I just love it. People think I am joking, but I honestly would never say "no" to a boat ride right now. I don't care what the conditions are. I am in. Sailing is challenging. There's so much to learn, so much possibility for adventure. 

The other issue is that I don't really have folks to ride with. As all our lives have gotten more complicated, it's harder and harder to get together for a ride. Everyone has jobs and houses and dogs that also demand their time, so it's hard to get together. Plus, I broke up with my bike-riding boyfriend, and as little as I like to admit it, having a partner who is equally interested in bicycling does encourage more bicycling. I also hate admitting that I just don't love riding my bike by myself all the time. I don't mind riding alone sometimes, but this summer, I rode my bike to this new bar in the East Village to try the "coffee drink." It was delicious, but I felt so self conscious, drinking alone, in a bar, in spandex, as a fat woman, alone. No one does anything alone in this town, and I just felt so ridiculous. 

Things have changed. It'd be silly to pretend that they haven't. Not all for the worse, of course. Last year, 2018, was my happiest RAGBRAI ever. I never felt so in-the-moment, so carefree, so comfortable with myself, despite the fact that I had to buy a new wheel on Monday. I think that's why I didn't write about it. It was just too good (and good writing requires conflict). 

At one point, this spring, Pochy and I were talking and she mentioned the idea that we might want to not wait for each other on the outskirts of town like we have done traditionally. (Pochy, by the way, has ridden a TON this year, and it shows. She's fast and fit and fabulous. Nice work, Pochs!) And, I think that might not be a bad idea. I say this as one of the people that probably benefits the most from all the waiting. I didn't train this year. That wasn't fair to my teammates, and I have to live with those consequences. If that means I am by myself a lot this year, okay. If that means I have to endure the "encouragement" of much slimmer riders as they pass me going uphill, okay. Those are the breaks.

My lack of training is also not really fair to RAGBRAI. I am not treating RAGBRAI with the respect it deserves. I think this is a curse from my first very fit + very easy first RAGBRAI. It was much less challenging that I expected, with the exception of Potter's Fucking Hill. And so subconsciously, I decided I didn't really need to worry about RAGBRAI. And since then they have nearly all kicked my ass. People, like, train for RAGBRAI. It's like a big deal for people. By contrast, my (failing) strategy is to just worry about it all season, feel guilty for not riding my bike, and then hate myself for an entire week. 

This is not sustainable. 

I don't want to break my leg. I threw my back out once in the last ten years, and I don't want to go through that kind of pain again. But, I am nervous about how RAGBRAI is going to go. My hope is that I will just do my best, be in the moment, and have some fun with my friends. I need to be okay with myself and my choices and the consequences and just enjoy a week gallivanting around the countryside with my friends. 

And long term, I hope that RAGBRAI will kick off my re-newed "fitness hobby." (My friends have insisted that I need a hobby that doesn't have so much emotional baggage. I think fitness might be it). But, who knows? I always vow to be more fit for the following year's ragby, and yet....

But, the way I've done a lot of the last 8 RAGBRAIs is not working. Something has got to give. I either need to get re-inspired, treat RAGBRAI and my team and myself with the respect they deserve, or I need to consider taking some time off. The nice thing about RAGBY is that it isn't going anywhere. And, I'll have 411 miles to mull it over. 

So, however you do RAGBRAI, little beavers, whether you are on that bus tomorrow, on a different team, or celebrating ragbrai from the comfort of your own far flung distance homes, Happy Ragbrai. I hope the spirit of a week-long goof-fest fueled by Coors Light and cheeseballs brings some laughter, reflection, and inspiration to your hot-ass midsummer. 

xoxoxo, Norm