Bummer

Delicate subject, this.  In the beginning of heavy training, it's bound to occur.
After that first century, the next morning, my friend Kris swaggered out with, "Don't worry...
once the wounds open up again, you'll be fine." (He was right.)
My friend Ed suggests that, "A sore bum can kill a ride." (Should I tell him that's not all it kills.)

And my friend Tracy tells us to slather up - early, and often.
Delicate, delicate subject.

It's Hard to Start A Train

Together

The first century we ever rode was from Sunday River, Maine to Stowe, Vermont. Including the little bit when we lost our way, and our SAG group, it totaled 126 miles. Unexpected, unprepared, but arrived in time for cocktails. We have had our fair share of notches, gaps, and "Kancs", (for NH folk).
                   We value the importance of training.
                                    January 1st.

Tracy lays out a thorough and well articulated training program. It gets tricky when living in the frozen tundra , but train we did.

Indoors.      Together.      Alone.

Alone

Wearing multiple layers.
Heat set at 75.
I've come to hear Coach Troy in my head, and it's an "easy day" when you pedal and watch two full feature films, back to back, including previews and credits.

Replace popcorn with Honey Stingers, and you're good to go.

Ho Ho - oh.

Christmas comes, and under the tree are fun little toys and trinkets...nope.  Once you hit "Submit", Cross Roads releases their first set of "informational blasts" to help you begin the preparation process.  The thing I latch onto immediately is the "Packing List".  So, in the stockings and wrapped under the tree are all sorts of "stuff" that we need, we need to upgrade, or don't know what it's for - but now own.  There are neon yellow jackets, bike shorts that actually having padding, gels and bars, head wraps, and arm coolers, socks, travel size deodorant, lotions and potions, and, and, and...the list goes on.  We're ready!  We're set!  We're good to go!
Except...

We still have to start training.  Submit.

Surprise, surprise, surprise...

Submit. Sigh. What have I done?
One of the best parts of this adventure has already occurred.  Jeff and I have been together since we were seventeen.  He's the one, who for all these years, starts a sentence with, "Hey, you know what would be fun?"  My response is usually, "No." Really - no.  These are usually events that could produce thrills, adventure, panic, and sometimes, well...  (For those of you who know, two words: Yukon Territory.)  The man then takes me kicking and screaming, quite literally, into these ventures...that I end up loving.

Like in the desert two years ago, when, noonish at the end of a ride, a valley called him...and since I'm clipped in, we both coasted down for twenty minutes, with little water left in our bottles.  I'll spare the details, but we did climb out, find water, and headwinds. (Photo)

He has the utmost faith in me, and I trust him blindly.  We're a pair.

For the first time in our lives, though, I got to be the one who asked, "Hey, you know what'd be fun?"  And then I told him.  And then I got to see his smile.  To date - the best part of this ride.