I’m in the same kit I wore from the start at Sunset Beach Oregon, the same one that hasn’t been washed in 1000’s of Kms and probably has something to do with the searing pain in my groin. I couldn’t bear to turn the pedals any longer with my skin getting rubbed raw. I feel a breakdown happening; sitting there in the van absolutely soaked to the bone. The knots in my stomach have me paralyzed; not wanting to drink or look at the next banana smoothie Jackson has graciously prepared for me. I’m quiet but a week of cycling 300+ Kms a day on 4.5 hours of sleep makes me look and feel worn out. The clouds loom over the van, still dumping buckets in the 6 am darkness. I keep digging my hole of self-pity deeper, darker, and not wanting to face the decision before me. I’m torn by the prospect of quitting and the pain of continuing; memories start to flood my mind.
I remember starting this vision one year earlier in September, less than one week after completing my bike ride across Canada to the same destination: The Woodstock Fruit Festival. I remember the passion I had at that point; the time and effort devoted last Fall to partnering with a charity, the hundreds of hours I had put into training and planning this trip. I try to use these memories of why I began to fuel me and re-spark my fire, it’s not working. Outside Brodus Montana, I’m only 2 hours into today’s 300km ride and I feel so alone. I know that donations are pouring in from people all over the world watching Jacksons’ daily vlogs and that just compounds the pressure.
I think back to the previous winter, biking 15 minutes to work, rain, shine, cold, and even snow, it was an adventure! I hadn’t even insured my car and it was affecting my social life. On my days off I didn’t go out I stayed inside working on the charity aspect of my ride instead. I started lying in bed all day on some of my days off, which quickly turned into spending all my days off in bed. Creeping up on me, and not sure how I got to feeling this way, I’m left wondering when this feeling would be over. Surely this depression would let up when the weather improved enough for me to start riding? To save money for my bike trip across Canada a year earlier I lived out of my car through the winter while training for 9 months. I think I was more nomadic back then.
Partnerships with two charities had been established; Athletics 4 Kids and Two Wheel View. Now the pressure was on to train. I had just over 5 months until the start and, even though I wanted one, I couldn’t afford a coach so I just kept building the hours on the bike on my own. Endurance rides came naturally to me. It seemed familiar to build from 80kms a day 5 days a week and progress as the months flew by. In the final month, I’d fit in a couple of super long 300+ km days a week as well as a couple of recovery days in between along with working 5 days a week.
With my eyes still closed I felt like a whole day had gone by, but it had only been 30 minutes. Jackson wants to film a video, he’s hesitant having never seen me like this. I’m quite alright with him recording though, this is my battle, deep down I knew this was likely, I asked for it, I almost wanted it, but this is tough!
Another hour laying there in a motionless quiet, Jackson encourages me to try drinking the smoothie. I get as far as thinking about it, but my stomach tells my eyes to look away, I know I need to drink this to continue. I don’t know what the body goes through physiologically during an ultra-endurance venture like this, but I know I don’t have to worry about consuming too many calories. I take a sip and then another, two is all I can handle. When will it stop raining, when will the clouds part? I just want to feel better before I make any decisions and go back on what I’ve been telling people for a whole year leading up; I will bike across America in 20 days on a fully-raw vegan diet.
The rain stops and the clouds part, literally. I still felt like closing my eyes and pretending I’m home in Maple Ridge B.C. Memories of my upbringing by a single mom now flooding me, a thought I noticed that became prominent as I biked across Canada a year earlier. Pulling strong emotion from wherever I can I tell myself; “My mom didn’t raise a quitter” and decide to start with changing out of my dirty, worn-out clothes in the outhouse next to the country-style post office in the middle of nowhere. The thought of the one clean leftover cycling kit in the back of the van does sound more motivating than a smoothie at this point. I take a breather with Jackson for a little more self-care, accept the worst is over, and come to terms with what’s ahead. I couldn’t bear thinking earlier about the 200kms left on my ride today into Rapid City South Dakota. I know at this point I may not be fast but I feel I can ride 100km, that’s something I’ve done hundreds of time before. It’s not so far, only 4 hours. I only have to do two of those then my next rest day awaits me.
After having cycled through the famous Sturgis South Dakota Motorcycle Festival, arrived at my host family fashionably late, where Jackson had turned the whole family vegan in less than an hour, I’m ready for a 16-hour sleep.
It’s days like this I discover more of myself. I discover my motivators and many unanswered questions. I wonder, “What makes me as an athlete and as a human unique?” Why am I willing and capable of enduring so much? Do I make my psychology or is it made for me? I choose to learn from the questions. I remember answers come on their own accord and to accomplish a vision sometimes it’s best to simply accept the task, and act.
‘It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.’
- Sir Edmund Hillary
