03.Mick, just Mick on Goals

Cyclists traditionally are a goal setting people. Whether it's annual mileage, a PR at a race, beating a certain opponent, or anything else, we set goals. Getting one of us to admit to such is perhaps a challenge, as we are a superstitious lot. I will generally set several goals at the beginning of each new year (no, I'm not telling what they are this year), but one goal I've set for untold years I've never once achieved. That goal: To ride my age in miles on or near my birthday. This is often a tall order, as my birthday is January 14, and the weather tends to not cooperate. As my age keeps getting higher, and my tolerance for cold weather riding keeps getting lower, this goal has gotten progressively more unattainable. I'd started to believe I would never make this one.

January 2014 began ominously, with a vicious snowstorm and then record-breaking cold just a week before my birthday. Roads were snow and ice packed, and with the bitter cold, seemed destined to stay that way for the duration of the winter. But then, I watched in amazement three days later as a cool front (as opposed to a cold front) moved in with heavy rains and temps just above 40 degrees. The snow that I was sure would be around forever quickly melted away, and the roads again became passable. The forecast for the weekend preceding my 55th birthday looked promising, but I had to work Saturday, and would be travelling Sunday. I had thankfully scheduled Monday off from work so I would have a two-day weekend, but the predicted high of 39 would be chilly for the three hours my attempt would require.

Monday morning I awoke before 7:00, and put on a pot of coffee to get the day rolling. Checking the weather, I saw that this was going to be a good (great for January) day to try to hit the goal. The sun came up revealing a mostly clear sky as I enjoyed  bowl of cheerios to fuel my way. About 9:30 I aired up The Dude's tires, filled my water bottles, and got dressed for the ride. I stuffed my jersey pockets with enough spare tubes to repair three flats, since experience told me that the roads would be heavily cindered, and that greatly increases the likelihood of flats.

9:50am I raised the garage door and stepped out into the morning chill. Yeah, what the hell, I was as ready as I'd ever been to take on this challenge. Swinging my leg over the bike, I closed the garage and started pedalling. Only needing 54.2 more miles as I rolled out of the subdivision, feeling cool and confident, I headed north out of town. I quickly observed at the very first intersection that there was indeed a great deal of cinders on the roads. I'd have to play it careful and slow at corners, and pick my line carefully. Really did not want to change any tubes in the chill, fingers just don't seem to obey orders. Five miles in and I ride on dry pavement between drifts on both sides of the road as tall as my bike, brought to mind being stuck in the middle of a similar drift almost exactly one week previously! Heading west into the 15 mph wind I plan a route. I'd take a meandering course to Danvers and check my distance there. I truly enjoy riding on weekdays in the middle of the day, there is virtually no traffic on the back roads, save for the mailman. I'm cruising along, nearing Danvers on Old Peoria Rd remembering how much I liked this road. Traffic in recent years has gotten rather aggressive toward bicycles and I've avoided riding there for some time.

As I passed the Quick Stop in town I checked my distance: 27.1 miles. Just about halfway there! A quick calculation told me that a semi-direct route toward LRI and home would suffice. Piece of cake. Onward I rode, this time with a tailwind, through Carlock, then south for a short stretch, and then up and around Lake Evergreen. Cruising through the windmills I see that the wind is directly from the west now, so tailwind most of the way in until the final 8 miles directly south. Picking my way carefully through the cinders and wet spots I rolled on, grinning like an imbecile, having one of my best January rides in my foggy memory. As I crested the Lake Road overpass at I-39 I checked my mileage, 48 so far, and saw that I would easily make my target. I headed south through Hudson, jogged a mile east, and was sitting in the homestretch six miles from home, only needing three to meet my goal. Fortunately there were no cars around as I watch the Garmin hit the magic 55 mile mark, I raised a fist in the air triumphantly yelling "Woo Hoo!"

I finished my way home, fighting the headwind up the slight grade on Beech St to end the day with 58 miles in three hours and twenty minutes, happily noting I'd had no flats the entire ride. I celebrated my achievement with a showerbeer, and relaxed, wondering if my other four goals for 2014 would be so easy to attain.