I'm pretty sure I could choke a bear with my legs now

This Saturday was one of those perfect weekend days -- it's just a little drizzly and cooler outside, and you feel so grateful that it's a Saturday so you can sleep in and then lie around all day in your pjs or sweatpants watching movies.

I, however, decided to start my day at 5:15 a.m. K and I left my apartment to head to Frisco so we could start our weekend o' cycling at 7 a.m. It was the weekend of our big bike ride. Yes, that one. K and I were amazed to see how many people were participating in the ride. Seeing 3,000 people lining up with their bikes and sporting those sexy padded shorts is pretty overwhelming.

The ride started right at 7. Our team was one of the first ones to start. As K and I mounted our bikes and began peddling, I couldn't help but think about how early in the morning it was to be riding a bike and -- the worst part -- how much longer I'd be on said bike. My legs were sore just thinking about it.

K and I had a good pace going, and we were passing quite a few people. Not too far into the ride, we started seeing bikers on the side of the road fixing chains and tires. A coworker just six or seven feet in front of us was riding along when we all heard a loud Pffffffffffffffft! and he pulled to the side of the road to fix his seriously flat tire.

We all rode through town after town, taking up one lane of a one-way, two-lane road at times, and at others, riding on the shoulder trying not to get hit by the cars that passed us.

Before we knew it, K and I were hitting the first rest stop. It was only about 9 miles into the ride. We weren't ready to stop. We decided we'd hit the next rest stop, thinking we'd do every other one since they're each about 10 miles apart.

Soon, we started passing riders who had crashed. One woman was lying on the side of the road with several other cyclists around her. One person was holding her head, and one of the medic teams specially for the event was gathering around her. It was scary to see something like that, since you knew it could just as easily have been you on the ground.

When K and I hit the first rest stop, we drank cup after cup of Powerade and water. There were halved bananas and orange slices that we gobbled up too. There were protein bars, pretzels and pickle juice. There was a medic table with different creams cyclists swore by. The best item at that rest stop was the lip balm. They had it on little clips so you could take a tube and keep it handy to use throughout your ride. After waiting in line for longer than I ever thought I'd have to wait to use a porta potty, K and I were back on the road.

We were still making really good time when we got to lunch. It had started raining lightly, so we had spots of mud all over our arms, legs and jerseys. Our bikes were filthy. We were starving. We barely talked during lunch, since our focus was on scarfing down our food to fill our stomachs. We decided to rest and let our food settle. While we were doing that, it started raining a bit harder.




A small portion of the riders who happened to be at the lunch stop at the same time as us.









Check out the line for the porta potty!!!






When we got back on the road, the rain slowed us down a little more. There were more cyclists on the side of the road from crashes. More and more medic vans were passing us with their lights on. At one point, just about 30 feet in front of us, a cyclist went flying over his handlebars. K and I stopped when we reached him to make sure he was okay. He was lying face-down in the middle of the road. His teammates he had been riding with were saying his name and asking if he was okay. When he finally answered, they helped him roll over. He seemed like he was going to be okay, and since K and I could do nothing to help, we rode on.

We were definitely having a much harder time than before lunch. We'd been cruising along before, but giving our muscles that break made our bodies not so eager to cooperate with the physical torture again. And there was also the wind -- for some reason, Mother Nature had decided to punish us for stopping to rest and eat by giving us a horrible headwind to ride into. It made it especially fun to go up hills.

We rode and rode and rode, and I was getting pretty tired. We had passed the point where it made sense to stop, so I kept going, even though I had gone into the weekend saying I'd be proud of myself if I rode 75 miles. (I thought that was a reasonable expectation for myself, since I hadn't even owned a bike five weeks before the ride -- and since I'd only ridden my new bike four or five times.)

When I could see the lights and the grandstands of Texas Motor Speedway, the finish line for the day, I felt my eyes tearing up from the utter relief it was almost over. As we turned onto the road leading straight into TMS, several emotions and the utter exhaustion started to hit me. I thought about the entire day, feeling relief and thankfulness that K and I hadn't been one of the injured cyclists on the side of the road, counting down the moments until I could get off the uncomfortable seat for the rest of the day, and feeling proud of myself for completing the entire route for the day. I was hungry and ready to get off my bike, but I also couldn't help but think of the whole reason for the ride. We had done a good thing to help support people who are affected by multiple sclerosis. We still had a long way to go, but it was nice to know we'd done it all for such a good cause.

K and I made our way to our team tent. It was only about 1:30. We'd eaten lunch at around 10:45, so we were ready for more food. We had a burger and some beer, which tasted awesome. We hung around the tent for a few hours so we could be in our team picture, and then we headed back to our hotel, where we immediately crashed for the night.







K and me at our team tent after riding the first 75 miles.










We got up even earlier -- 4:15 -- on Sunday morning. I was not at all excited at the thought of spending another several hours on my bicycle. I didn't know if my rear end could handle that -- padded bike shorts or not!

We arrived back at TMS by 5:30 for breakfast. We aired up our tires and lined up for a ride around the race track. We got to ride into the tunnel and everything. It was surprising to see how steep the track is on the turns. It looks quite a bit different from the stands and on tv!





Cyclists coming through the tunnels into TMS









K and me before starting our lap around the speedway










I look like a real cyclist!







I was glad to see that after about 10 minutes on my bike, I was numb enough that the seat wasn't as painful as I'd thought it would be. Starting off was definitely the hard part. K and I had decided to pace ourselves since we both had such a hard time after lunch. We thought if we took it easier through the morning, it would make the rest of the day much easier.

The morning went pretty well. It felt great outside, and although we had lots of hills, once we topped them we were always blessed with a rewarding downhill slope. We had some really pretty scenery, and it seemed like it was going to be a good day again.

And then we went to lunch. We made sure we didn't stop as long as we did the day before, since that's what killed us. We'd been warned by several riders who'd done the MS 150 before that the worst was yet to come. They weren't kidding. Again, we left lunch only to ride into a terrible headwind. We had several hills, but somehow none of them had downhill slopes. It was frustrating!

The absolute worst hill for K and I was the steepest hill on the ride. It hurt to climb that thing! People started getting off their bikes about 10 feet into it and walking the whole way up. I refused to get off my bike, since I wouldn't be able to honestly say I'd completed the whole thing and, dangit, if I'd come that far I was going to finish! At the top of that evil monster hill, there was a bank with an empty parking lot. Everyone who reached the top, whether through walking or riding, stopped at that parking lot to rest. It took too much out of us to continue without a break.

K and I had repeatedly been told about this one insanely long, awful hill. It was so bad, in fact, that they shortened the distance to the next rest stop because of it. At the last stop before it, everyone said, "It's only five miles to the next stop -- but there's a reason." One volunteer at the stop told K and me that the steep hill we'd thought was so difficult was nothing compared to this. "You won't even think about that hill after you climb this one," he said. He told us the hill we thought was so bad was the steepest on the route. The one we were about to try to face was not very steep, but it lasted 2 1/2 miles. There was nowhere to stop, since there was virtually no shoulder. The hill seems endless, we were warned. He told us to pace ourselves.

I was a bit nervous about what was coming up when K and I set out again. My method for hills had been to not slow down on them so I'd gain momentum and could get through it as quickly as possible. I'd lean down and put my hands on the bottom curve of my handlebars. I'd knock my gears down to one of the lowest -- if not the lowest -- ones, and I'd put my head down so the visor on my helmet would block all but what I really needed to see ahead of me so I could still ride safely. That way, I couldn't see the top of the hill and psyche myself out thinking it was closer than it was or realizing I had so much left to go.

This hill sounded like it was going to be awful. It's all anyone had talked about that day when we talked about the ride and what was left.

Not far from the rest stop, I saw a long, gradual hill in front of us. Again, there were riders walking up. I started to speed up to gain momentum. "Pace yourself, babe!" K called from behind me. This wasn't the hill, but I decided that was probably a good idea. I could see that this hill was a longer one. I climbed up slowly and steadily, and then our route turned left. The hill continued. It wasn't anything bad, it was just long.

When we finally finished, I turned to K and said, "Man, I'm really nervous about this hill." "Me too," he said. Not even a quarter of a mile later, we had hit the next rest stop. "Wait!" I said. "That means that was the hill!"

"No," K said. "It's supposed to be after this." I told K everyone had said it was on this route, and that's why we had a shortened ride to the rest stop. We had tackled the impossible hill with no problem -- to the point that we hadn't even realized that was the hill!

We were only 10 miles from the finish, so we didn't stop long. We were really tired, but obviously we were going to finish. The last part of the ride wasn't so bad for the majority. As we neared downtown Fort Worth, we had to climb up quite a hill that we were both cursing under our breath. K said whoever chose the route was evil for making us go over such a hill so close to the end.

The closer we got to the finish, we started seeing more people cheering us on. There were quite a few people lined up at the finish line yelling and waving for us. K and I were the only ones crossing at that time. We gave each other daps as we crossed under the "FINISH" banner.





K and me at the end of day two, finished with the 150






We had made it the full 150 miles. After two days straight of sitting on that seat, I was surprised at what muscles and areas I felt the most.

Obviously I was sore where I'd sat on the saddle. In fact, there were many times I couldn't tell if I needed to be worried about the line at the porta potties at the next stop or if I was just numb from being on the seat so long. My fingers were tingly thanks to pretty much constantly vibrating from all the bumps on the road. My right knee hurt, which worried me a little. The sorest of all, which I hadn't expected, was my back, just to the left of my spine and at the top of my shoulderblade.

When you're riding on a road bike, you're leaning down quite a bit. You have to be aware of what's going on around you and behind you, since there are hundreds of cyclists and cars sharing the road with you. You glance over your shoulder before you make almost any move to make sure you won't become someone's roadkill.

And speaking of roadkill, we saw plenty over the course of the weekend. I'd had no idea how many snakes there were in the Dallas area. At least I know a lot of them are dead.

Some funny things from our ride:

• K and I were discussing how sore we were on the seats. K was having a problem keeping things arranged in a comfortable way, if you will. He said to me, "Now I know the real reason Lance Armstrong only has one testicle!"
• At one point on day two, K and I managed to get in a line of several cyclists, one of whom was a woman wearing sky blue cycling shorts. Not to be rude, but K and I realized at a rest stop that this woman's butt was drooping in her lovely sky blue spandex shorts, which meant there was a lot squeezed into them. I had the displeasure of riding behind her on a portion of the route. I'm not kidding, her butt was rippling in her sky blue shorts. It was awful, and frankly, it was killing my motivation to continue. I tried looking above her, but her shorts were rippling enough that no matter where I looked in front of me, my eyes picked up the movement. I let the line go ahead of me, mainly because I was tired, but partly because I couldn't handle riding behind her anymore. When I caught back up to K later on, I barely got out, "Oh my gosh, did you see the woman in the ..." before he was finishing my sentence. "It was like staring at the sun!" he said.
• In a world where I hear so many people concerned with dieting and carbs, it was funny to be in an environment where people were picking up energy drinks and saying, "This thing doesn't have carbs! How am I supposed to get energy?" At rest stops, people would climb off their bikes and say, "I need carbs!" Cyclists were even reaching for foods that had the most carbs. It was kind of like a parallel universe.

The MS 150 was the most challenging athletic thing I've done in my life. I'm pretty proud of myself for finishing, I have to say. K and I did a great thing for a great cause, and we had a good time doing it.

I'm even already looking forward to next year.