Now after completing my third year biking the MS150, I want to again thank my family, friends and coworkers for their financial and emotional support. Each year that Brenda and I participate we get to know more of the regular bikers, hear more about why people ride and test our own capacity for finishing those miles. There are too many inspirational stories of riders with various stages of MS and people honoring loved one to do them justice here, but their stories are a good part of the reason I can't stop joining the ride every year despite the pain.
Friday night on the bus ride up we chatted with a first-timer who was a bit nervous about what she was in for. We assured her that all the stories about exhaustion, soreness and emotion were completely true. I don't think it helped her at all, but now its fun for us.
We headed out about 7am Saturday. The day started off with wind and hills reminiscent of last year's Saturday ride and I just about cried several times thinking about how hard that had been. Unlike last year when I had training mercilessly, this year I was a little distracted by (insert old house, new house, hail to car, kids, etc) and felt there was no way I could bare that again. Luckily, the weather turned out very reasonable, but after my legs were spent I couldn't recover enough to make the rest of the day go any easier anyway. About 10 miles in, a sign was posted that read, "Caution. Long downhill ahead." I was tempted to pull over, cross out "caution" and replace it with "Hurray!"
After we arrived at day one's finish at Grand Casino and dropped our bikes in the corral, we took the bus to Hinckley High School for showers and to set up our sleeping bags. We rode there with a woman who wore apparel that had "PINK" on it. She told us about all her training, how she wasn't sore or tired at all and how she was trying to find some people to hit a few bars with her. I assured her after we went back to the casino for dinner, bed would quickly follow. Not her, she said. After the showers we came back to see Pink passed out and drooling on her bag. I think she managed to make it to dinner, but she definitely didn't make it out past 8 o'clock.
Volunteer Reggie usually comes to the high school and starts turning on lights at 5am on Sunday. This year some a-hole turned them on at 4:30. Generally people don't set any sort of alarm because volunteers and other people's activity gets things stirring naturally. The 4:30 timing had me crabby for quite a while though.
Sunday's ride had perfect weather and, in general, was much easier. Brenda and I felt good most of the day. With about 10 miles left I joked to a biker passing that I was hoping to catch the SAG Wagon at the last stop and take it to the finish. The SAG Wagon is the support van that picks up bikers along the route who've suffered an injury, bike malfunction or exhaustion. He slowed up and said, "oh great, now I have to bike in with you and make sure you leave the stop on your BIKE!" He was joking, but riders take a lot of pride in being able to say they biked every single mile and really support everyone else in accomplishing the same.
Dane, Jude and Chad were cheering for us at the finish, along with Brenda's daughter Chloe and sister Nadine, which always chokes me up a bit. Dane found me after I parked and asked, "Mom, you ride a bike?" Jude explained to him, "no Dane. Mom rode her bike from a long, long, long, long way across the world." Well not exactly, but it felt that way sometimes.
Sunday night in response to his inquiry, I was explaining to Jude what the bike riding is for by telling him about how we raise money to find a cure for MS and explaining some of the symptoms. He said, "Mom, you are helping people who are blind? That's like Jesus. Mom, you and Brenda and all the bikers are like Jesus!" Nothing like your 4 year-old to make you feel like a rock star.
That's the story this year. Still hoping to recruit a couple of you for the future. Thank you all very much again for your support.
Carrie
