Travis

There are a number of reasons I find it easier to make quasi-anonymous snide comments on the Internet rather than contribute anything worthwhile; inexperience, not being a good writer, laziness and apathy are foremost amongst them.

I met my friend Heather in Minnesota. She was on the cycling team with which I occasionally rode. While she was away at college her parents moved from Newton, in your neck of the woods, to Santa Rosa, in my neck of the woods. She’s hecka sporty and I’ve got lots of time on my hands so we typically meet up every few months for some regrettable act of exertion. These aren’t the exciting sorts of things like your frequent contributor Rakkity was doing at my age (I’ve got other friends more apt to do things that could be fatal), but events that make me feel good about being able to do something and dumb for doing it. Typically it’s a long bike ride or running an off-road half marathon.

At the beginning of March I asked Heather if she’d be into riding the Davis Double Century with me on May 20th. It’s a 200 mile bike ride with a paltry 7800 feet of climbing. She checked her calendar and said ‘Awesome!’ and we both paid the hefty $70 registration.

I thought training would be easy. It’d give me an excuse to get on my bike, which I hadn’t done all winter. Shortly after committing both my money and to my friend, I was both diagnosed with mononucleosis, and given my qualifying exam date of May 23. Combined with the wettest winter in a decade or so I’d ridden my bike maybe 4 times for a total well under 200 miles. Still, I never really had a doubt about a double century until the night before as I was going to sleep, my alarm set for 4:15…