*If you routinely participate in sporting events you may be familiar with the acronyms "DNS" and "DNF." They stand for "Did Not Start" and "Did Not Finish."
This weekend was the Door County Century (DCC) Ride. I'd gotten the idea to ride it when I heard a Team in Training was training for this event and that it would be the weekend right after I finished radiation (if you've read preceding posts you'll know that I missed two days of radiation due to an equipment malfunction followed by a power outage so that I'm actually not finished until tomorrow - TOMORROW!!! YES!). It seemed extremely appropriate, since I had previously determined that getting back on my bike was going to play a vital role in the healing process and that it was just a damn good way of showing cancer how I was kicking its butt.
I connected with my friend Paul, from my TNT Tahoe 2010 team and his wife, Leigh, who were going up there with the TNT team and rode (in a car) the 300-some miles to Door County with them. Friday night we headed to one of the much-lauded Door County fish boils. Shortly before left, I started feeling sick to my stomach. I attributed it to that "so hungry I almost feel sick" thing. I kind of forgot about it after we left for the restaurant and as we watched the fish boil (it's a big production), until we sat down with our food. I did not feel right. I started feeling worse and worse. I managed to sit through the rest of dinner and even try the famous cherry pie, but as we left I decided I needed to walk around a bit to allow my stomach to figure out what was going on. Mind you, I had gotten a ride from Paul and Leigh, and we were in Fish Creek, about thirty minutes away from our hotels in Sturgeon Bay. So we walked to the marina and looked at all the amazing boats. And that's when my stomach finally decided what to do - 3 or 4 times, to be exact, right into Lake Michigan (I felt like I was in college again!).
We now headed back to Sturgeon Bay and to Target (did I mention poor Paul and Leigh were still hauling me around?) to pick up some things for me. Saltines, check! Ginger ale, check! Gatorade, oops nope! We looked at medications, but I wasn't really sure what to get and at that point started feeling woozy and had to sit down at an endcap, so we went to checkout. There was only one lane open, so I got dizzy and had to sit down again while we waited.
Ok, maybe that was all too much information again. To jump ahead, I was ill into the night and really didn't sleep until 4am. By the time I woke up the next morning, my little sickness was over but I was not exactly feeling great. I started nibbling at crackers and drinking ginger ale, and instead of checking out all the wineries and little shops of Door County, I napped half the day and spent the other half watching the National Geographic Channel.
The question was, what to do about the ride Sunday? I hadn't registered yet and was supposed to do so at 4:00 that afternoon. I can tell you, I definitely did not feel like getting on a bike. I didn't feel like even getting out of bed. A big part of me wanted to head home - my parents could come get me (they really would do that - thanks, Mom and Dad!). But what about that whole showing-cancer-who's-boss thing? The healing process? That me on the mountaintop with my bike image? I called my insurance nurseline to get their opinion - how would I feel the next day; would I be up for a long bike ride? The nurse thought I'd be quite a bit better by 4, and then back to myself by the next day if I worked on rehydrating and eating a bit more.
I did make it to registration at 4, then the TNT Inspiration Dinner at 6:30 (plain pasta, no sauce, no salad, no bread, no dessert), where I was honored, along with Paul and my other awesome survivor friends Bob and Rick as Team Heroes. I still did not feel like myself. We headed back to the hotel where we got some final tips from coach EJ, then I got my stuff ready for the next day before falling into bed.
I jumped awake as my alarm went off at 4:30am, ready to roll. I met the team downstairs for pictures, feeling like myself again. That nurse was right.
I rode with Jodi, another friend from last year's Tahoe team, who was only planning to ride 50. Going into the weekend, I'd been planning to ride 50 or 70, but Saturday I'd decided 50 was plenty. My little flu bug had made me realized that my body is going through a lot right now, no need to tax it even more. So, as we left the first rest stop, I thought I saw a sign showing go straight for 50, left for 70 and 100. Jodi turned left. And there was that competitive, stubborn part of me that didn't want to let go of 70, and I didn't object. I followed Jodi to the left.
About 8 miles later it became very clear we were on the 70/100 mile route, so we went ahead with 70 with cheerful determination. Maybe around mile 40 (remember I'd only put about 80 miles total on my road bike this summer, with my longest ride being 35) I started to tire out and trail Jodi on the hills. Somewhere in the 50s I started to slow down even more. About mile 59 I realized I had a flat. It was the rear tire, and since neither of us felt like dealing with taking the rear tire off so close to the finish, we tried pumping it back up to see what would happen.
It went flat again. We pulled into a driveway just before the sign telling us there were just seven miles left to the finish and tried to figure out what to do. There was a gash in the tire itself, not just the tube, and we could feel and hear the air coming out. If we took the time to change the tube, would it just go flat again due to the bad tire? We called race support (the beauty of a supported ride!). While we waited for someone to look at my bike, I considered sagging (for those of you not familiar, this means riding the SAG (support and gear?) wagon to the finish). I'd already ridden more miles than I'd planned. I'd gotten back on my bike. Did these last six miles matter? I've never sagged. I'd never had a DNF - definitely some not too pretty finishes, but I've always finished. Would today be my first DNF?
Nope. Support came and patched my tire, did the whole taking the wheel off and back on thing, they even gave me a new tube to replace the one that had flatted so I still had another spare. Jodi and I rode the last six miles with no new challenges, and crossed the finish line together.
My butt was happy to get off the bike, but I felt great. I felt like I could go on another ride. I'd been a bit worried about my arm, but that was pretty much a non-issue. Guess I did a pretty good job of showing cancer who's boss, huh?
A huge thanks to Jodi, Paul, Leigh, Courtney, EJ, and all the great TNT peeps who welcomed me to their group this weekend and helped me make it happen!
This weekend was the Door County Century (DCC) Ride. I'd gotten the idea to ride it when I heard a Team in Training was training for this event and that it would be the weekend right after I finished radiation (if you've read preceding posts you'll know that I missed two days of radiation due to an equipment malfunction followed by a power outage so that I'm actually not finished until tomorrow - TOMORROW!!! YES!). It seemed extremely appropriate, since I had previously determined that getting back on my bike was going to play a vital role in the healing process and that it was just a damn good way of showing cancer how I was kicking its butt.
I connected with my friend Paul, from my TNT Tahoe 2010 team and his wife, Leigh, who were going up there with the TNT team and rode (in a car) the 300-some miles to Door County with them. Friday night we headed to one of the much-lauded Door County fish boils. Shortly before left, I started feeling sick to my stomach. I attributed it to that "so hungry I almost feel sick" thing. I kind of forgot about it after we left for the restaurant and as we watched the fish boil (it's a big production), until we sat down with our food. I did not feel right. I started feeling worse and worse. I managed to sit through the rest of dinner and even try the famous cherry pie, but as we left I decided I needed to walk around a bit to allow my stomach to figure out what was going on. Mind you, I had gotten a ride from Paul and Leigh, and we were in Fish Creek, about thirty minutes away from our hotels in Sturgeon Bay. So we walked to the marina and looked at all the amazing boats. And that's when my stomach finally decided what to do - 3 or 4 times, to be exact, right into Lake Michigan (I felt like I was in college again!).
We now headed back to Sturgeon Bay and to Target (did I mention poor Paul and Leigh were still hauling me around?) to pick up some things for me. Saltines, check! Ginger ale, check! Gatorade, oops nope! We looked at medications, but I wasn't really sure what to get and at that point started feeling woozy and had to sit down at an endcap, so we went to checkout. There was only one lane open, so I got dizzy and had to sit down again while we waited.
Ok, maybe that was all too much information again. To jump ahead, I was ill into the night and really didn't sleep until 4am. By the time I woke up the next morning, my little sickness was over but I was not exactly feeling great. I started nibbling at crackers and drinking ginger ale, and instead of checking out all the wineries and little shops of Door County, I napped half the day and spent the other half watching the National Geographic Channel.
The question was, what to do about the ride Sunday? I hadn't registered yet and was supposed to do so at 4:00 that afternoon. I can tell you, I definitely did not feel like getting on a bike. I didn't feel like even getting out of bed. A big part of me wanted to head home - my parents could come get me (they really would do that - thanks, Mom and Dad!). But what about that whole showing-cancer-who's-boss thing? The healing process? That me on the mountaintop with my bike image? I called my insurance nurseline to get their opinion - how would I feel the next day; would I be up for a long bike ride? The nurse thought I'd be quite a bit better by 4, and then back to myself by the next day if I worked on rehydrating and eating a bit more.
I did make it to registration at 4, then the TNT Inspiration Dinner at 6:30 (plain pasta, no sauce, no salad, no bread, no dessert), where I was honored, along with Paul and my other awesome survivor friends Bob and Rick as Team Heroes. I still did not feel like myself. We headed back to the hotel where we got some final tips from coach EJ, then I got my stuff ready for the next day before falling into bed.
I jumped awake as my alarm went off at 4:30am, ready to roll. I met the team downstairs for pictures, feeling like myself again. That nurse was right.
I rode with Jodi, another friend from last year's Tahoe team, who was only planning to ride 50. Going into the weekend, I'd been planning to ride 50 or 70, but Saturday I'd decided 50 was plenty. My little flu bug had made me realized that my body is going through a lot right now, no need to tax it even more. So, as we left the first rest stop, I thought I saw a sign showing go straight for 50, left for 70 and 100. Jodi turned left. And there was that competitive, stubborn part of me that didn't want to let go of 70, and I didn't object. I followed Jodi to the left.
About 8 miles later it became very clear we were on the 70/100 mile route, so we went ahead with 70 with cheerful determination. Maybe around mile 40 (remember I'd only put about 80 miles total on my road bike this summer, with my longest ride being 35) I started to tire out and trail Jodi on the hills. Somewhere in the 50s I started to slow down even more. About mile 59 I realized I had a flat. It was the rear tire, and since neither of us felt like dealing with taking the rear tire off so close to the finish, we tried pumping it back up to see what would happen.
It went flat again. We pulled into a driveway just before the sign telling us there were just seven miles left to the finish and tried to figure out what to do. There was a gash in the tire itself, not just the tube, and we could feel and hear the air coming out. If we took the time to change the tube, would it just go flat again due to the bad tire? We called race support (the beauty of a supported ride!). While we waited for someone to look at my bike, I considered sagging (for those of you not familiar, this means riding the SAG (support and gear?) wagon to the finish). I'd already ridden more miles than I'd planned. I'd gotten back on my bike. Did these last six miles matter? I've never sagged. I'd never had a DNF - definitely some not too pretty finishes, but I've always finished. Would today be my first DNF?
Nope. Support came and patched my tire, did the whole taking the wheel off and back on thing, they even gave me a new tube to replace the one that had flatted so I still had another spare. Jodi and I rode the last six miles with no new challenges, and crossed the finish line together.
My butt was happy to get off the bike, but I felt great. I felt like I could go on another ride. I'd been a bit worried about my arm, but that was pretty much a non-issue. Guess I did a pretty good job of showing cancer who's boss, huh?
A huge thanks to Jodi, Paul, Leigh, Courtney, EJ, and all the great TNT peeps who welcomed me to their group this weekend and helped me make it happen!
