Last weekend, when we got back from our bicycle wanderings, we realized that the odometer read just slightly over 400 miles. That’s 400 miles total, since we started riding our bikes back in March. Based on that number, on the fact that we’re now doing an 11-mile circuit three days a week, and also on the fact that we’d decided to take part in a 35 mile ride this Sunday with the Davis Bike Club, I suggested that we try to break 500 miles by the end of the month. It seemed pretty doable, considering that we’d only need to do slightly less than 25 miles on Saturday to push us over that edge.
We rode in the mornings this week, when the wind was just barely starting to pick up energy and when the sun hadn’t quite reached its full potential. And then Saturday rolled around and we had a crowd of people scheduled to come over because I was hosting a Pampered Chef party, and we still had yet to do anything remotely resembling cleaning the house, and I cut our morning ride short. Only 15 miles instead of what we’d originally planned.
Turns out it was for the best because we were just finishing getting the house ready when the Pampered Chef representative showed up, crates of goodies in tow, to start getting ready. And as the afternoon progressed, it got hotter and hotter outside, and the wind picked up more and more. By the time everyone left, hours later, the last thing I wanted to do was go out and ride my bike that last few miles…but we did it anyway, all in the name of meeting that goal.
The ride yesterday was supposed to be 35 miles, but it only ended up being 30 because there was construction where the original route would have gone. Instead of heading off to Yolo, the group rode to Winters, down meandering back roads that kept us in sporadic shade, and mostly free from auto traffic.
It was a fun ride. Granted it was as I’d feared – I was the slowest of the bunch – but even with that I managed to somehow keep up with the group without dragging anyone too far behind. We crowded into vinyl booths at a little café in Winters and ordered fruit salads smothered in yogurt, sourdough toast, omelets, and potatoes. We kept the waitress hopping refilling the water pitcher she so nicely brought to our tables. And then when we were sated and finally recovered from the ride there, we got back on our bikes and headed back.
Richard and I talked – prior to the ride – of making up the difference once we got home. But it was over 100 degrees yesterday, and by the time we were done with that original 30 miles I was ready to collapse somewhere cold and preferably wet, and not even ponder getting back on my bike for quite some time. After I napped and showered, Richard napped, and we met my parents for dinner, and I had to make a slew of phone calls to finalize all the orders from the Pampered Chef party the day before, and suddenly the sun was setting, and our time was up.
This morning, Richard noted that it was still June somewhere in the world. So we got on our bikes and did that remaining five miles. And the point to all of this is that even if we squeaked that remaining distance under the wire; even if the only way we really made that 500 miles in June was to tack on a few extra hours to the month; the point is that we did it. 4 months. 500 miles. We can only go up from here.