Me time. I’m all for it. Mani/pedis and cocktails or coffee with friends. A massage here and there, with a little retail therapy on the side. For some, it might be a great workout at the gym. These activities are all about relaxing, revitalizing, and recharging. And they are very important, in my book. But what about something more, something that takes a person outside of their comfort zone? Something that challenges a person to look not only at the world a little differently, but to look at one’s self in a new light, as well.
It all started so innocently, about two years ago. A close friend/fitness instructor/cycling enthusiast at my gym, let’s call her Fabulous Ronda J, had heard about an annual bike tour run by a local cycling shop. Fabulous Ronda J thought the tour sounded like great fun, and decided to plan on participating in the tour the following year, as a sort of milestone birthday present to herself. But what fun would such a party be without others with whom to share the fun, right? So she threw out the idea at class one day. And I bit, hook, line and sinker. Never mind that I didn’t even own a bike, or had never ridden one more than 10 miles at a time. I had eighteen months to prepare. Piece of cake!
Fast forward seventeen months, to May 2010. I had just relocated to a new town in a new state. Much change was taking place in my life. And now I had this danged bike ride looming on the horizon. Did I say ride? Because I meant to say a 3 day, 150+ mile tour, including, but not limited to, a 22 mile climb UP A MOUNTAIN! Through a pass that doesn’t even open until early June each year, due to severe weather conditions. Above the tree line. Up to nearly 11,000 feet in elevation. Oh my gosh, what on earth had I gotten myself into? I hadn’t really trained properly (primarily because I didn’t have a clue how to do that). I didn’t have the right gear. I tried to come up with any reason to bail out on my commitment. But it became abundantly clear to me that the only way I was going to get out of this with my pride intact was to actually go on the ride. Dangit! Dangit, dangit, dangit! That is how I found myself spending 20 hours in minivans to arrive in Red Lodge, MT.
That 22 mile climb, straight out of the gate on day one, took me over four hours to complete (oh, by the way, there were an additional 25+ miles left to be ridden by the end of the day). Were you aware that oxygen is pretty scarce at 11,000 feet? There were times where I’m pretty sure I could have walked faster than I was riding. Times when I thought there was absolutely no way I would make it to the top. But I did. I learned to trust myself, both mind and body. I learned to accept support from an acquaintance, who is now a friend (thank you, Sonya). I learned that the reason it is called “the tree line” is because there are NO TREES past that point! Most importantly, I learned not to ask myself IF I was going to survive the journey; rather, HOW I would survive it. There really was no viable alternative that would protect my aforementioned pride.
Well, as the photo shows, my trusty co-rider and I did make it to the summit. And I have carried that last lesson with me beyond the gorgeous landscapes of Montana and Wyoming, and off the bike and back into real life. Because four days after returning from that amazing journey, my life, and that of my family, was turned upside down. And during the six months since, I have never wondered IF we will make it through. Because I knew it was all a matter of HOW we will make it. And that has made all the difference.
