I have been a very bad post-er as of late! Thanks for holding the bag, Amanda, so to speak. Last weekend was Princeton Reunions, so I was determined to get in a solid ride and run before I headed down to the Jerz for a weekend of friends and memories and general debauchery.
It was also hotter than blazes in NYC for a few days, and so my 48 mile ride in Central park (8 loops....BORING) was quite difficult as it was my first ride in the heat and even though I pounded two bottles of water, not bringing a drink mix (I like Accelerade) was a mistake, as I was definitely woozy at the end . But it was mentally toughening to keep going through the same loop over and over again, and I felt very nice on my 9 milers the next day before the games began.
I tried to be a good girl and acknowledge that I "can't hack it like I use to" and came back to the city late Saturday night, but the temperature dropped the next few days with the tropical storm (and the buckets of rain that came with) and so did my immune system, and I was sick as a dog for a few days and did literally nothing except fall behind on training and on work.
But I finally kicked whatever it was, and after a mini run to get the blood moving and a 1.5 straight swim (it was supposed to be open water, but there is no way that can happen so long as I'm in NYC...will just have to wait for the beach or Michigania in the coming weeks), I felt good and ready to tackle a 90 (yes, NINETY) mile ride to Bear Mountain with some old swimming buddies Warren, Andy, Steve and his brother, Andrew, and their other fried Jonathan.
Well, after feeling pretty pleased with myself for navigating up from the New York Athletic Club through the city and over the GW bridge with no incidents All By Myself, I stop at Strictly Bicycles in Fort Lee, NJ, to meet up with the rest of the gang and realize that I SOMEHOW HAVE LEFT THE ZIPPERED POCKED IT MY JERSEY OPEN. That's right. The pocket where I keep my cash, my ID, and credit cards. FUCK! Only my drivers license managed to stay in. The rest was scattered somewhere in the city or over the Hudson.
So after cancelling the cards and just chalking up the cash to be my panhandling quota for the next 2 years, I hit 9W with the boys and immediate realize they are WAY to fast for me. I insist they ditch me, and I have a nice, strong-feeling solo ride out to Nyack and the Runcible Spoon, with one stop past Piermont to confirm that yes, my Visa was indeed canceleed, and yes, I am the biggest idiot whose ever called you.
I diddle at Runcible and wait for Warren to rejoin me after he turns around after a few more miles from the other guys, who are going to tackle the Bear summit. I just had to acknowledge that 90 miles AND intense climbs are just not at my fitness level right now, and certainly not with those guys! And I had a little flat along the way for spice, but thankfully managed to change it without too many screams.
Warren and I head back, and then after a strong ride (for me) back, including the two climbs just after leaving Piermont that I find hard because the way the road layout is with stops, you can't build up much speed (or any) in to them, I feel victorious that I've made it back and to the bridge. And then, WHAM. Somehow I eat it right before getting on the bridge ramp (I think I nicked the edge of the cone without realizing it), and my dear sweet Warren, who has now witnessed a day of epic stupid luck for me, hangs with me while I get my bearings again, and still a bit shakey and bruised from the fall, slooowly cruise/walk the tricky turns down the GW bridge, back in to our fair city.
Thankfully it was fairly uneventful back, although I could feel the bruises in my left hip and side knee as well as my sore hands (thank GOODNESS I had gloves on), and while I may have lost a good bit of dignity and can't allow my self any financial treats of any kind for the next week (both as punishment for loosing the cash, and the fact that I don't have any cards), I actually feel pretty good for getting another Nyack ride under my belt (only my 2nd), and will just keep being as diligent as I can with them over the summer, slowly adding in miles past Nyack and also runs in once I get back to Manhattan. Plus, last time, the back of my neck KILLED from riding in aero, but now it is no problem! Depending on how the bruises and feel, will be up for a nice, long lope in Brooklyn tomorrow!
It was also hotter than blazes in NYC for a few days, and so my 48 mile ride in Central park (8 loops....BORING) was quite difficult as it was my first ride in the heat and even though I pounded two bottles of water, not bringing a drink mix (I like Accelerade) was a mistake, as I was definitely woozy at the end . But it was mentally toughening to keep going through the same loop over and over again, and I felt very nice on my 9 milers the next day before the games began.
I tried to be a good girl and acknowledge that I "can't hack it like I use to" and came back to the city late Saturday night, but the temperature dropped the next few days with the tropical storm (and the buckets of rain that came with) and so did my immune system, and I was sick as a dog for a few days and did literally nothing except fall behind on training and on work.
But I finally kicked whatever it was, and after a mini run to get the blood moving and a 1.5 straight swim (it was supposed to be open water, but there is no way that can happen so long as I'm in NYC...will just have to wait for the beach or Michigania in the coming weeks), I felt good and ready to tackle a 90 (yes, NINETY) mile ride to Bear Mountain with some old swimming buddies Warren, Andy, Steve and his brother, Andrew, and their other fried Jonathan.Well, after feeling pretty pleased with myself for navigating up from the New York Athletic Club through the city and over the GW bridge with no incidents All By Myself, I stop at Strictly Bicycles in Fort Lee, NJ, to meet up with the rest of the gang and realize that I SOMEHOW HAVE LEFT THE ZIPPERED POCKED IT MY JERSEY OPEN. That's right. The pocket where I keep my cash, my ID, and credit cards. FUCK! Only my drivers license managed to stay in. The rest was scattered somewhere in the city or over the Hudson.
So after cancelling the cards and just chalking up the cash to be my panhandling quota for the next 2 years, I hit 9W with the boys and immediate realize they are WAY to fast for me. I insist they ditch me, and I have a nice, strong-feeling solo ride out to Nyack and the Runcible Spoon, with one stop past Piermont to confirm that yes, my Visa was indeed canceleed, and yes, I am the biggest idiot whose ever called you.
I diddle at Runcible and wait for Warren to rejoin me after he turns around after a few more miles from the other guys, who are going to tackle the Bear summit. I just had to acknowledge that 90 miles AND intense climbs are just not at my fitness level right now, and certainly not with those guys! And I had a little flat along the way for spice, but thankfully managed to change it without too many screams.
Warren and I head back, and then after a strong ride (for me) back, including the two climbs just after leaving Piermont that I find hard because the way the road layout is with stops, you can't build up much speed (or any) in to them, I feel victorious that I've made it back and to the bridge. And then, WHAM. Somehow I eat it right before getting on the bridge ramp (I think I nicked the edge of the cone without realizing it), and my dear sweet Warren, who has now witnessed a day of epic stupid luck for me, hangs with me while I get my bearings again, and still a bit shakey and bruised from the fall, slooowly cruise/walk the tricky turns down the GW bridge, back in to our fair city.
Thankfully it was fairly uneventful back, although I could feel the bruises in my left hip and side knee as well as my sore hands (thank GOODNESS I had gloves on), and while I may have lost a good bit of dignity and can't allow my self any financial treats of any kind for the next week (both as punishment for loosing the cash, and the fact that I don't have any cards), I actually feel pretty good for getting another Nyack ride under my belt (only my 2nd), and will just keep being as diligent as I can with them over the summer, slowly adding in miles past Nyack and also runs in once I get back to Manhattan. Plus, last time, the back of my neck KILLED from riding in aero, but now it is no problem! Depending on how the bruises and feel, will be up for a nice, long lope in Brooklyn tomorrow!
You are one tough girl!! Losing the zippered pocket is definitely something I would do, if that helps at all!
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