I always set two alarms. One for the time I need to get up, and one for 30 minutes before that. I hate the snooze button. The 5 or 10 more minutes that comes with a snooze is just a tease, but I love thinking I have 30 more minutes! I set the alarms for 6:00 and 6:30 on day 6, but when the first alarm went off I jumped up and couldn’t pack things quick enough. I was so excited about the day ahead. It was all I could do to wait until daylight to leave.
I hit the road about 6:00 and headed to the McDonald’s across the street for breakfast. I also wanted to see if there was anyone there I could verify my route with. Sure enough there was. I ate breakfast and was on my way.
Sue had told me the night before to “stay present and focus on the moment”. Good point. It’s so easy to cross the finish line before the race begins. I don’t know about anyone else, but I often have a day scripted out before it begins. I was thinking about rolling into Yorktown when her words came back to me. Focus. Stay present. Enjoy the ride. My sister texted saying encouraging me to enjoy every moment of this last day. Good stuff.
Now…I’m not excited about telling you all this next part. In fact, it’s just plain embarrassing. When I checked the map the night before, I thought I had 2 sections left and that the 3rd section was a detail map of Williamsburg. Each of those sections are approximately 30 miles. Based on that, I had it figured that I was less than 50 miles from Yorktown. Those of you that have access to a map and the ability to read it (unlike myself) can probably tell just by looking at it, that it is more than 50 miles from Richmond to Yorktown. I still don’t know what I was thinking. Ugh.
I got to Glendale and hit Route 5. I was 40 miles into the day and it was noon. It was then that I flipped to the 2nd section of the map and also checked the 3rd section. My heart sank. The 3rd section wasn’t a detail at all, but instead another full section. My first thought was of Sue. She was an hour into the trip to get me and under the impression that I would be finished between 3 and 3:00. I was looking at another 50 miles and 5 hours at a minimum. I called her immediately and left her a voicemail telling her that I was sorry and I would bust my butt to get there. I got back on the bike and off I went. It wasn’t long before I got a text from Sue saying not to worry and just be careful.
At noon it was already almost 100 degrees. I headed into Charles City and that’s when my feet started to burn. There really isn’t anything you can do when that happens, but I did find that dousing them with water was a temporary fix. However, what you then have is wet shoes and socks. At that point it’s a pick your poison kind of situation. I saw a sign that said 34 miles to Williamsburg. The traffic was heavy on Route 5 and I was glad to see an 8 mile bike path that paralleled the road. It was a welcome sight as it was a bit flatter and shaded. After being on Route 5 headed to Williamsburg for what seemed like 20 miles, I saw another sign that had the miles to Williamsburg, but I couldn’t make out the number. As I approached the sign I had a multitude of thoughts.
Please be less than 20 miles.
It would be great if it was single digits.
No…it can’t be single digits.
Is that a 3 or and 8?
18 miles?!?! I can’t do this.
It was about 3:00. I stopped the bike and called Sue again. I asked her if she would start to head toward me from Yorktown at 5:00 and take my gear. That would lighten the load and maybe speed up my last few miles. She was happy to do so and this did a couple of things. First, just talking to her renewed my attitude, gave me a bit of a second wind, and reminded me that I was almost there. Second, it gave me something to look forward to. I can do this for a while longer and then I will be free of the bags. Ok…push on. Pedal, pedal, pedal… I can do this.
I had to cross the Chickahominy River which is a long and tall bridge. At the top I considered just chucking the bike over the edge. Who could blame me? I would just tell people it jumped. Who wouldn’t? :)
I came across another bike path and was thrilled to see a sign saying there was a place to refill my water bottles. They even had free Popsicles. I took the time to stop and refill, but didn’t rest too long. By this time I was about 10 miles from Williamsburg. My feet were still burning, my hands were numb and the sun was insanely hot.
I was back on the bike in no time and it wasn’t long until I hit the Colonial Parkway, which begins 8 miles outside of Williamsburg. This road is not a bikers best friend. It isn’t exactly cobblestone, but it is very bumpy and difficult to make good time on. Five miles from Williamsburg Sue found me. I can’t even begin to express how good it was to see her. She had the biggest ‘Big Gulp’ cup full of ice that you have ever seen! I have never tasted anything so good. I dumped my gear off and talked to her for about 5 minutes. I gave her everything. My bags, map, phone…everything. She said, “You’re almost there!” We talked and she said that she would stay with me. We talked about it and when she asked if I wanted her to go 5 or 10 miles ahead, I said 5. When I pulled back out onto the road, I felt like I was on a new bike. That gear weighed every bit of 20 pounds and what a difference the ride was without it. It also helped tremendously that I knew she would be there in 5 miles. Quite frankly, it kept me going.
What I didn’t realize is that I had to go through Colonial Williamsburg to get to Yorktown and there was a small detailed section on the map for how to get through it. Did I mention that was in 2 miles and I had just sent Sue 5 miles ahead…with my map…and my phone? Ugh… I knew it was Colonial Parkway all the way to Yorktown and just didn’t think about having to make any turns. As I took the first turn to get through and I saw a woman crossing the street. I stopped her and asked for directions. She said that sometimes she carried a map in her purse and sure enough she had one. She was able to point to where I needed to go and I was off again. I didn’t see any street signs and had a little trouble, but I saw two people running and they also helped. I must not have looked so good because they offered to run with me and just show me where to go. This whole thing only took about 10 minutes, but it felt much longer. Once I was back on track, I found Sue again. We had a laugh about me giving her everything and she gave me more water. I sent her another 5 miles ahead.
At this point I was at 90 miles for the day. The pain was becoming worse with every passing mile. There were also biting flies to contend with. They kept finding the slots in my helmet and biting me on the head. At 95 miles I saw Sue and pulled over for more water and a dose of encouragement. She told me that I had done the last 5.5 miles in 20 minutes. My only reply was, “That means I only have 20 minutes left.” She asked if I wanted to rest, but I knew better. Later she told me that it was all she could do not to physically stand in front of me and tell me to get off the bike. She said that I was looked worse each time she saw me. With about 5 miles left in the trip I hit the road one more time. I remember watching the odometer and counting off each tenth of a mile. 4.9…4.8…4.7…4.6… At 4.5 I thought, ok…I ride 4 and a half miles to work. I can do this. It’s almost over. At 1.7 Sue had started back for me and when she saw me she yelled, “You are there! Go girl! Go! Go! Go!” Each crank of the pedal brought excruciating pain. Back when I had first seen Sue, I dumped the rest of the water in the Camelback on my head and it drenched my shirt. It was still so hot that my shirt had now dried. I just pedaled. I kept thinking, as bad as you hurt right now, as soon as you get there the pain will stop. I didn’t dare let myself think about how good it would feel to take off my shoes or the joy of the a/c in the car. I just pedaled. Don’t stop…no matter what…pedal.
With three tenths of a mile left, I came to an intersection with 4 options and no signs. I unclipped and stood there. I saw Sue coming up the hill where she had asked for directions. The man had told her to take a hard left. There were two of those. She handed me the map and left me to check one out. When she returned in a minute she said there was a sign and pointed me in the right direction. I rode to her, handed her the map and took off. She got in the car and pulled around me. When she got a little ahead of me I saw her hand go out the window and her fist pump the air. I knew then that she had seen the monument. In a few more cranks of the wheel, I too saw it…and I wept. I wish I had the writing skills and vocabulary to really express what that moment was like. The pain stopped. It a split second I realized that I had made it and what an accomplishment it really was. All the miles and doubts and fears and hope…it all came down to this one moment. This finish line. It was the most amazing moment of my life.
I started to go ride to the car when Sue said, “Get your ass up to that monument!” I gladly did so. I picked that bike up and held it over my head while she took the picture. It was a phenomenal moment and one that I will never forget. And what a gift to share that moment with one of my dearest friends. It was more amazing than I ever imagined.
We walked to the car and she helped me get my shoes off, and we put the bike on the car. My feet were so swollen I didn’t think I would get my sandals on. My hands were also swollen and almost completely numb, and I had never felt better.
We headed back to Roanoke and what took me 6 days to do on a bike, we did in 4 and a half hours. Afton Mountain was a breeze. We talked and laughed and each time we passed a sign with the number of miles to a town, I would tell her about what it was like there. I probably said, “I can’t believe I did it.” 100 times. But she was gracious, and kind, and just let me say it.
I want to thank you all. I could not have done this without the support of each and every one of you. What an adventure and experience this was! Thank you ALL for sharing in it with me! I look forward to our next adventure. Much love.
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