Century Training - Week 1; Day 7

Week: 1

Day: 7

Ride: Pace
Route: Hilly

Scheduled Mileage: 9

Actual Mileage: 11.3

Average Speed: 13.9 mph*

Max Speed: 24.2 mph
*Includes city street speed average

Average BPM: 149
Max BPM: 177

Calories: 344

Random Notes to Self:

• I love watching road races!
• Cycling is more diverse than I had presumed.
• Being surrounded by athletic men in lycra is quite enjoyable.
• I am definitely slow.

 

 

After my 30-mile ride in Central Park yesterday, I napped for a few hours before my 9pm shift at job #2. We made pretty good money for a Saturday night (weekend nights are bridge-and-tunnel and tourist nights for Manhattan lounges; big money and celebs generally party during the week). And what can typically be rare on a weekend, there was a celebrity at one of my tables; not to namedrop, but ... [click here].

As usual, and as many celebrities tend to prefer, I pretended that I didn't recognize the actress while providing her party with friendly, prompt service but without a lot of hoopla and special attention. My adjacent tables never even realized she was there. And unlike a few other celebrities I've waited on - and many with whom I've come into contact just by living in New York City - she and her friends were incredibly nice. The downside to the better-than-average Saturday night was that I didn't get off work until five o'clock. Thankfully (and purposely), I work part-time at a Midtown lounge that is only a few blocks from my apartment (anyone who has commuted via subway in the wee hours of morning will understand why five miles can easily take over two hours).

By 7:30am, I was in Brooklyn, groggily following my coach and one of his other clients into Prospect Park, where we caught the last few laps of a road race. As we neared the park, I could hear the periodic whistles that signal that racers are approaching, and as we rounded a small bend, I saw a colorful pack of jerseys slicing through the early morning haze. It was picturesque area of the park, the cyclists in the distance, haloed by a light mist. I felt an unexpected adrenaline rush and had an ephemeral, surreal moment that I've often seen in movies - like where one sees and is emotionally impacted by a herd of horses running wild or a young athlete watches his favorite football team practicing in the early morning fog for the first time. Movies like Dances with Wolves and Rudy come to mind.

[I battled with whether or not to include that description in this blog as the moment itself struck me as corny as soon as I had it. I know that movies are not real life; however, I do believe that movie moments are often inspired by real ones. But don't worry; the cyclists didn't pedal by in slow motion and I didn't hear violins playing in my head.]

We cautiously joined the race route, cycling where there was plenty of distance between the fields [field: the main cluster of riders in a race; also called the bunch, group, pack or peloton], then split from the route on a short cut through the park to the finish line, where I met some of my cycling coach's friends, sipped a latte like it was crack, and watched the final laps of the race. When it was over, we biked a little over 11 miles around Prospect Park, practicing drafting, pulling, and shadowing ride partners with a few of my coach's friends. Afterward, we all cycled out of the park together and stopped for bagels before I again followed my coach to his place of full-time employment at R&A Cycles. I couldn't believe it was only 11am.

Spending money at R&A on Sundays is becoming a weekly ritual. Today it was another pair of cycling shorts, a saddle bag and my long-awaited bicycle seat upgrade (more about my Specialized Toupe 143 as I get used to it; I tried it out by riding from the bike shop to the Bergen Street stop on the F line on my way back to Manhattan, and I have already noticed a welcoming, relieving difference on my lady parts).

I was struck this morning by how diverse cycling is. Maybe because varying cultures don't exactly stick out amongst all the vibrant cycling jerseys and helmets whenever I've happened to glimpse a road race on television. Maybe because I've stereotypically logged it as a "white sport" without a Tiger Woods to bring it mainstream attention. Maybe because few of us can name a professional cyclist other than its poster boy Lance Armstrong - much less a pro cyclist of another ethnicity. Maybe because I've never paid attention.

I was reminded of a conversation I had recently with a coworker at job #2, who laughed when she learned I was planning to cycle across North America this summer. Her half-Puerto Rican/half-Black, 100% New Yorker accent punctuated each syllable as she said: "No offense, Katie, but that's such a White thing to do."

"I'm half White so I suppose I qualify," I had sincerely laughed back without a single ounce of offense taken. I, like her, had subconsciously chalked up cycling in my list of more "traditionally White" activities and aspirations, like camping or climbing Mount Everest. However, a week after that conversation, while we both stood with our cocktail trays poised in the middle of the dimly-lit Midtown Manhattan lounge, she said to me: "You know, Katie. I know I said that biking across the United States is a very 'white thing' to do. But I thought about it later, and I have to tell you that I really admire your goal. You're going to be doing something really big, and I'm excited for you."

I thanked her and reassured her that I really hadn't been at all offended by what she said and that I was going to put her apology and enthusiasm somewhere in my blog. I suppose this was a relevant place for it to go.

Total Miles Cycled in Week 1: 82.49