TOSRV Day 2 – What drove me to finish

Approximately 2,500 people participated in TOSRV this year.

I am not sure how many actually ride 105 miles back to Columbus the next day.

Day 1 was challenging enough.

I was exhausted when I arrived in Portsmouth.

Many people hung out at Tracy Park where there was live music, food, and beer to celebrate.

The first thing I did was sit in a nearly-scalding bath for thirty minutes.

The second thing I did was eat.

 

My dad took me to the All Saints Church all-you-can-eat spaghetti dinner, an annual TOSRV tradition.

Everyone I met asked me if I was riding back tomorrow.

I honestly didn’t know.

 

A friend from Columbus was in a nearby city visiting family, and she was my lifeline in case I needed a ride back.

Although it felt good to warm up, eat a delicious hot meal, and re-hydrate, I knew the next day would be worse.

I remembered how sore I was the morning after my 75-mile training ride and couldn’t imagine getting on a bike and riding 105 miles.

I awoke at 5am.

Although I could feel every muscle in my body, the pain wasn’t so bad.

Or maybe my body had just adapted to the pain.

 

I guess I had to TRY to ride back.

After all, I had already made up my mind that this is something I will NEVER do again.  Therefore this would be my only chance to complete the full TOSRV.

I made coffee and oatmeal and pounded water while I watched the riders starting out on the street below.

 

I knew from the weather forecast that it would be 10-15 degrees colder than the day before.

I put on every layer I had and started off.

I was told to get in as many miles as possible early.

This was good advice because everything seemed to get worse each mile I put behind me.

I was freezing.

If felt colder every hour.

 

I started shivering within minutes of getting off my bike.

My food and water stops had to be cut very short.  My body was tired, but resting longer was not an option.

The last half of the ride was miserable.

Remember that time I thought I was going to die in the wilderness?  This experience is right up there.

I was on the 2^nd to lowest gear of my bike, barely moving the last fifty miles from Chillicothe to Columbus. The wind was strong and driving against me, adding to the challenge of the uphill gradient.

I thought about quitting multiple times.

Five things kept me going.

1. Most of the people that do this ride are men in their 50s and 60s?

Grey-haired men were blowing past me as I struggled against the wind.

(Perhaps it was their $3,000 carbon fiber bikes.)

I am 31-years-old and in good shape.  Was I really going to let these older men show me up?

2. I might freeze to death if I stopped moving.

I would have to wait at least an hour before someone could pick me up.  It seemed the misery I felt when I was stopped would be unbearable compared with a few more hours of pushing my body to keep moving.

3. I’m stubborn and crazy.

So there’s that.

4. The encouragement of my fellow riders.

The cycling community is incredibly supportive and very good-natured.  Multiple riders told me I was doing a great job and keeping up a good pace (as they passed me of course).

It was as if they could hear the battle going on in my head.

5 – Remember K?

At the first food stop on Day 2, I saw K, the girl I started the ride with the previous morning.  I was so happy to see her and know that she had made it despite the fact that I was a terrible riding partner.

I asked her what happened.

She had broken down psychologically when she started to feel the muscle fatigue.  She got off the bike and sat on the side of the road crying, only 30 miles into the 105-mile ride.

After a few minutes, another rider stopped and spoke with her.  He shared that he was a TOSRV veteran and always rode with his wife, who he had lost the previous year.  He really wanted someone to ride with, and he took K under his wing and rode with her the whole way to Portsmouth.

All of these thoughts occupied my mind.

And I just kept pedaling until I saw the Columbus skyline.