Yesterday I went 112 miles on the bike. That’s the number of miles in the ironman event. It took all day. I stopped frequently and went slowly (usually because of traffic). A section of the path was washed out because of the storm. That didn’t stop me from going through it though. That’s something I won’t attempt again (the riding through the washed out path, that is). But I made it.
I was feeling really good for the first 80 miles, and even felt like I could get off the bike and run a bit. As I got closer to the 100 mile mark, I slowed down noticeably. Since I had pretty much given up on the thought of running afterward, I decided to go the extra 12 miles. Twelve miles doesn’t sound like that much more, but it is 12% more, which is a decent amount. Based on my speed, It was going to add another 45 minutes to my time on the bike. An extra 45 minutes sounds like an eternity when you are tired. Having past 100 miles on the computer counter, there was no way I was going to stop until I hit 112, so the decision to go for it was already made. Sometimes it’s good to pretend like you have no choice….
Just before 5 pm I rolled up the driveway. Now I know I’m capable of completing 112 miles on a bike. I had confidence that could do it before based on doing 100 miles in a day, but this is different. There was no projection, no hope, no ‘think I can/would be able to’, only reality. I did it. Now I know for sure, and that is pretty neat.
