Benjamin's Thanksgiving program was terrific (it was only 13 minutes long!)! He did a great job on his lines ("I love green salad." and "We are thankful for the saguaros.") We did get to have the whole program twice since several of the dads showed up after the program was finished (premeditated?). Benjamin's teacher was persuaded (by some of the more "into it" moms) to present an encore performance. Andy's Thanksgiving program is on Tuesday and, of course, there will be pictures posted here.


El Tour de Tucson was quite an experience! Ron did do the entire 109 miles. I, however, did the 80 mile route and was VERY happy I did. The 80 mile start was about 30 miles from the start and we headed out at 9am. We watched many of the 5,000 people that were doing the 109 mile go by and then we had to merge with them. The police had every intersection blocked and when we came out of the starting gates they stopped all the traffic and we had the right of way. That was a great thing -- we really didn't have to worry about traffic on 90% of the route. We didn't have to worry about the lights either since the police always allowed the cyclists to go through the lights without stopping.

So, I headed out of the start and was immediately cheered by several TriGirls that were not riding. This was a great way to start the ride. I kept on going and the same TriGirls showed up 10 miles later, still cheering! By then, I really felt like I was getting into the groove - I had loosened up and I was moving along at a good pace. We rode right by our neighborhood and at about the 20 mile mark, there was a cyclist down. It was terrible: a guy had wiped out and was lying on the asphalt curled up and as I went by (the bike patrol did a fabulous job re-directing 5000 cyclists around the accident), I heard the EMT say that he was going to take good care of him. Ron saw several other accidents, but this is the only problem I saw. I hope he was alright.

So I keep on going and hit the 35 mile mark. The miles between 35 and 40 were very, very long. I felt like I spent hours going those 5 miles. We did hit a huge hill during this time -- it was horrendous. I made it up, but it was a struggle. My peak heart rate for the day was at the top of this hill -- 176. It was relatively short, but it was practically straight up. Or at least it FELT like it was straight up. The guy I was riding next to got off his bike and walked it. So I kept riding and recovered from the hill and finally hit the 40 mile mark. The next 20 miles were ok.

We did have to stop for a river crossing around this time. That was really something! They tamp down the riverbed so that the platinum riders (the professionals like Floyd Landis and Lance Armstrong and all the people that can do the entire El Tour in less than 5 hours) can just keep riding over it. That means that when the rest of us get there, the riverbed is totally churned up and rutted and you have to walk or carry your bike over it. Now, many people had mentioned this section of the ride to me, but I just pictured a dry river bed that we would have to troop over, say about 10 or 20 feet. Nope. That wasn't the case. We stopped and started walking our bikes and walked for almost a half mile down the riverbed and around the curves and just kept going. It seemed like forever. The sand was really fine grained and got into our shoes and beyond (when I took off my clothes to shower my toes were black with road grime and river sand). When I finally got to the end, there was Ron! He had just made it out of the river and was pouring the sand out of his shoes. We chatted for a minute and then he was gone -- I did run into him two more times during the ride.

I did have a section of time when I really felt good and was passing bunches of people and really moving fast. During this section, I did see the guys' pediatrician a couple of times - first when she whizzed by me like I was standing still, and then at a rest stop, where I was getting more water. I still cannot believe she recognized me since I cannot identify anyone when they are in their bike lycra and sunglasses and helmets. Then I hit the 60 mile mark.

The last 20 miles were very difficult. It was hot and this being Arizona, there was almost no shade. I was so grateful to hit the 60 mile mark because I knew that I could do another 20 miles... or at least I thought so at the beginning of that section. I stopped to get water and sucked a bunch of it down too fast and spent a couple of miles sick to my stomach. That finally passed and I just kept thinking "I can do this, I can do another 20 miles." I did have to stop several times over this last 20 miles because my lower back had tightened up into a ball. It really hurt, but the stopping and stretching helped. By the time I hit the 70 mile mark, I was starting to come unglued -- I hurt, I was tired, I was thirsty... and all the water at the aid stations was warm. I kept going and going and going. When I had about 8 miles left, I pulled into a convenience market and clopped inside in my bike shoes and filled up my water bottle with ice. This helped tremendously until I drank too much too fast and got sick to my stomach (I guess I didn't learn the first time not to do that).

A bike patrol guy came by and told me that there were 6 miles left. I think he made the effort to tell me particularly because I was starting to slow down and I was probably not looking very good. That is because, by this time, I was saying 6 miles left, 6 miles left, I can do 6 miles, 6 miles left over and over. I was dying. We finally hit 5 miles left and I kept on with the mantra... beginning to look a little wild-eyed by this point.

By the time we got to 3 miles left, I was the crazy person on the bike that was saying out loud, 3 miles left, 3 miles left, only 3 miles, 3 miles, 3 miles, 3 miles. It was horrendous. My back was killing me, my right elbow was about to freeze up and never move again, and my right knee was hurting every time I went above a certain gear. We hit 2 miles left and I was still doing my thing --- 2 miles left, 2 miles left, 2 miles left... and we finally hit one mile left. I was practically screaming (at least I felt like that, but it was more like a high pitched whisper) -- 1 MILE 1 MILE 1 MILE!!! When we (I was in a small group at this point) turned the corner and I saw the finish, I pedaled faster and faster -- I WAS DONE!!! And I was SO GRATEFUL to get off the bike. My official time for the 80 miles was 6 hours, 22 minutes. My average speed, according to my bike computer was 13.1 mph.

I wandered off to get some water and a half a bagel (which I couldn't eat) and found one of the TriGirls who did the race -- she was great and walked my bike to Ron's car for me. I found Ron and we went home. Ron felt great. I did not. We relieved the babysitter and took her home. Showering was a religious experience. Brigid came by and picked up pizza for dinner on her way. Brigid should be beatified. The guys crashed -- they were totally asleep 10 minutes after going to bed. I made it until 9:30pm and crashed myself. This morning, my back is a little sore and my right knee is bothering me, but that is about it...

I don't know if I ever have to do this again. I kind of want to do the 109 mile route, just to be able to say I did it, but some time will have to pass before I seriously think about it again.