My lovely wife and our snack-munching little guy help us with our final preparations–snacks, books, pinwheels, and all.
**A quick note about this post: it is waaaaay overdue! The events I write about are over four months old and, sadly, I’ve not been able to get it together to record them until now.
I have never run a marathon, or half-marathon, or 10k. Nor have I triathleted a triathlon (hey, I made a new verb!) My wife and I did once walk a 5k with our baby stroller. This–decidedly–does not count. However, I’ve been wanting to take part in some sort of race, not of the 3-legged, sack, or motorized vehicle variety. Since bicycling has become a big part of my life and health regimen, it was a pretty easy decision to land on entering a bike race. Soon, though, I observed obstacles to my newly-hatched plan. Namely:
I don’t own (or even have experience riding) a racing bike. I own no cycling jersey (which, anecdotally, are a must in bike races). I possess no spandex shorts with that weird gel (I assume it is gel) sewn into the, uhhm, “seat” portion. In fact, I own no spandex clothing of any kind.
Chief among possible pitfalls, though, was my combined zero experience riding long distances and zero time (or desire) for training to obtain said experience. The other things I could buy or borrow…carving out extra time and effort for training, however, was something I either had to simply do or not do.
I chose not to.
I guess this decision can either be framed as a result of laziness or trust in my abilities. To keep things positive (and hopefully encouraging to others), I will go with the latter.
The race I chose covered a distance over a little more than 40 miles. If that sounds underwhelming to you (and it did not to me), let me again reiterate my complete lack of experience and gear, as well as this:
I would be riding my 70lb cargo bike and hauling at least another 100lbs in the form of my two lovely first-grade daughters and a whole bunch of food, books and art supplies to keep them from going out of their minds with boredom.
So now, dear friends, it maybe become more clear why, both before and even during the race, I had no idea if this was something I could physically accomplish.
Oh, and I had never ridden more than 20 miles at once in my life.
Here’s the 40-mile course, winding around and over the Sacramento River, traversing Sacramento and Yolo Counties.
I give all this backstory for two reasons.
First, the silliness of my choice to go ahead with this plan without much experience or wisdom in my proverbial back pocket hopefully makes for a good story. Second, I really do hope that it can encourage riders (especially cargo bikers like me who are much more practical cyclists than racers) to expand the horizons for what one can actually accomplish on a cargo bike.
[This is a theme I try to hit fairly often in this blog, namely, “You can do a whole lot more on a bike–for you, your family, and the environment–than you probably think you can.” This is a realization that has changed my (and my family’s) day-to-day life in big ways, and I hope that more and more people take the plunge this year to commit more to cycling and experiencing the everyday world in a more natural and personal way.]
Alright…sermon’s over…back to the story. Just a head’s up: if you’re hoping for a super dramatic twist or action-packed ending, well–Spoiler Alert–we made it through just fine. I didn’t go Evel Knievel and jump over anything, I didn’t rescue a wayward traveler and add him/her to the seat in back, and I didn’t break the bike and, Popeye-style, carry my ride in one hand and my children in the other across the finish line.
So, back to what actually happened.
As previously stated, I wasn’t crazy enough to do a “century,” or 100-mile race, so I looked for something shorter, something local, and something that would hopefully raise some money for a good cause.
I chose the “Gear Up” ride: a local 40- and 65-mile race that is REALLY local and helps education initiatives in Sacramento and West Sacramento. How local was this? We rode just three blocks from my house on the final leg. This ended up, serendipitously, giving me a major boost when I (and especially my patient but kinda burned out little girls) needed it most: after riding through almost completely unknown terrain across two counties and multiple cities, it was a lot easier finishing the race in completely familiar territory.
Another thing I was hopeful about in choosing this race was that I had seen, in a promotional picture, a dad and son on a cargo bike. So, I presumed, we wouldn’t be alone!
Well, I was wrong. I was, by far, the only one carrying a child. But that’s ok–the other riders were very supportive and, seemingly, curious as to just what I was thinking.
The course was quite interesting. We started at City Hall in West Sacramento, winding through city streets and factories, until we hit largely empty agricultural areas.
We rode by beautiful vineyards, pumpkin patches, small and large stretches of the Sacramento River, little farms and wide open spaces. It was lovely.
Not so bad a view, huh?
Our first break was about 13 miles in at a soon-to-be-open pumpkin patch (I told the girls what our first stop was and they were quite excited. I oversold it a bit, as it turns out, so we just took a quick gander at the bevy of squash, made use of the port-o-potties, and enjoyed bagels, juice, and nutella spread upon apple slices…mmmmmmm, Nutella…)
As I said, the girls were troopers. This was at the end of Summer/beginning of Fall. It was warm, and bright, and I had stripped down our Yuba Mundo considerably to make it as (relatively) light as possible, meaning that our big sun shade was left in the basement. The girls each had a big box of books and coloring and snacks, but the novelty of having two stops with gatorade and treats definitely helped when they were getting stir crazy.
Revisiting my early concerns, I made a couple of cheap (and barely informed) decisions in preparing for the ride.
On whether or not my body could physically perform the ride: I was concerned about blood sugar crashes (in addition to, you know, actual crashes), hydration, and cramping, so I brought along–
- A good water bottle (and a back-up) that I refilled at the breaks and added a bit of powdered gatorade to
- A bunch of bananas (for potassium)
- A handful of Cool Mint Chocolate® Clif Bars (which, as far as I know, really did work me. I had put in a whopping ten minutes or so “researching” online the best energy bars for such an occasion, and this one looked promising. The kicker? It has a touch of caffeine in it)
This is a pretty easy recommendation: 99 cents for mint, chocolate, protein, and a wee bit of caffeine to give you that extra kick when you need it going up that hill.
On what I was actually going to wear so that I didn’t over-heat or develop sores or chafing:
- I didn’t buy a cycling jersey, with its chest-hair-exposing zipper or snack holding pouches. I just wore an old Dri-Fit style t-shirt. This will sound a bit sad, but I’ll be honest–I was a little aesthetically envious of the 99% of my fellow riders who were wearing special jerseys (some neat-looking, some looking like a dog had coughed up a half-digested box of crayons). But I was not about to pay $70+ for something I could do without.
- I did buy a pair of inexpensive simple spandex exercise shorts (sans squishy bottom insert) to wear under my gym shorts. I’ll include the link here, because I was quite pleased with how they worked. Especially for just $19, they worked quite well and catastrophe was averted.
Our second break was at a vineyard a stone’s throw from the river, and it was beautiful. My sweet girls did a great job looking out and identifying deer and fish and birds and crops along the way. Having been so used to riding in the city over the last few years, it was such a departure for us to ride in the country and along the river without stopping every other block for stop signs and traffic concerns. I enjoy our day-to-day jaunts, but it’s great to know that a vastly different landscape that is easily bikeable awaits just a few miles west.
We passed houseboats, riverside shacks and stands, and more than a couple confused bystanders as we made our way from rural Yolo County, over the bridge, and down into South Sacramento.
This was the strangest part of the ride. We left, literally, the countryside for busy 6-lane roads and stop lights as we traversed–stop’n’go–from Freeport to Sac City College. Just when things were looking easier, I realized that we would have to ride up the Sutterville Bridge to make it to Curtis Park, Oak Park, then Downtown.
This is not a fun bridge to bike…even when I’m alone. I may have mumbled (or more than mumbled) an obscenity upon realizing this was, indeed, happening.
Alas, we made it over the bridge (albeit quite slowly and in the lowest of my 21 gears), and cruised into the home stretch, on my side of the city, where I knew all the streets well and knew exactly how close we were to the post-race Promised Land.
We cruised into our beloved Oak Park and into the central city and made it to Cesar Chavez Park in Downtown for the post-ride party feeling quite good. I had more than gotten my second wind, and realized that I actually could have ridden a lot further.
Another thing: we totally did not come in last! We actually made quite good time and came in around the middle of the pack.
My lovely wife and our little son were there to greet us (the girls were so happy to see Mommy, as they always are) and we partook in some of the food truck burritos on-hand while our daughters, Micro-Machine-Man-style, told Mommy everything they had done and seen in rapid succession.
While I realized I could have ridden further, I quickly understood just what happens to your body once you stop the ride…it gets tired–fast! Thanks to the bananas, Clif Bars, snacks, water, etc, I didn’t feel weary once while we were riding. Man, oh, man, did my legs crash, however, about 5 minutes after we stopped for good. Luckily, I was good to go again about 15 restful minutes later, when I rode home (solo, this time–the girls were ready to jump in their car seats).
We made it! The girls did a GREAT job hanging in there, and I could have gone another 20 miles…that, however, doesn’t mean that my legs didn’t turn to jelly minutes after disembarking my faithful steed.
So, long story short (too late, I know), it was a lovely experience…and one I intend on doing again.
And I’ll leave you with this:
YOU can do something like this. You’ll probably approach it more intelligently and carefully than I, but you hopefully get what I mean.
If you have a bike adventure on your mind but don’t think you can tackle it, I encourage you to not let that doubt completely dissuade you. (I’m not saying to completely chuck your doubts, but don’t let them instantly make your decisions for you, either).
Oh, and if you’re in town next September and want to ride in this race, we’ll (in all likelihood) join you! I have it on good authority that the organizers are also adding a six-mile or so children’s ride portion, as well. We can form our own, not-so-intimidating, cargo bike contingent within the sea of spandex and 12lb racing bikes.
8legs2wheels 
