3)Tri-County Hill Hopper ride: 76 miles of rolling hills and fun! Woo!

Sunday I arose at the buttercrack of dawn to hit the Hill Hopper with Greyhound. I was wary of riding with him because he's faster than me, but felt semi-safe since he's "base training" (what's that?) and had ridden on Saturday. Check out his coverage for the elevation profile and his take on things if you're interested here.

Now, I didn't check the weather b/c Grey said it was supposed to be "beautiful" on Sunday. And yes, it was a clear, bright day-- but it was cold. I was planning on debuting my (sleeveless) Janus Charity Challenge top from Wisconsin and try out what I think are my favorite tri shorts (they are. Far and away the best. Too bad they're my Snickers shorts and I don't know what brand they are!). This is not cold weather gear. Fortunately I'd grabbed a jacket on the way out the door and travel with arm warmers... 'cause you never know when you're going to need them. Like, oh, in Wisconsin. Anyway, we huddled in the car til it was time to go, when we were seranaded with the OKaysion's "I'm a girl watcher" turned into "I'm a hill hopper." One of us thought that was more adorable than the other one did.

By the fourth mile I was, predictably, hot. I decided to take off my jacket at the first rest stop, about 12 or so miles in. Greyhound and I had gotten separated before the turnoff, but I thought I spotted him about 25 feet behind me. As the rest stop approached, he yelled, "you turning in?" "Yeah," I said. "I need to disrobe." I pulled in and thought he was behind me. He wasn't. Turns out I imagined that the guy was Greyhound and waited in frustration for over ten minutes before I called to find him.

He wasn't at the rest stop? Oh. Oops.

The ride was pretty hilly and windy, but it was really fun. Spent from his Saturday saddle time, Greyhound opted to do the 46 miler and I did the 76 alone. About 50 miles in a rode with a roadie on a Cannondale that was faster than mine downhill. The nerve! I've only been passed by one bike downhill since I got Lucy, and it wasn't a Cannondale. We chatted for a bit and it was obvious he had Roadie Superiority Syndrome, but I felt so bad for him I didn't drop the IM bomb. It's rude. Besides, he looked like my first spinning teacher Don, and Don's great.

I finished the ride with no problem, though my bike computer said I did 80 miles and the map said it was a 76 mile route. I don't trust my bike computer, so I rode 5 miles at home before hitting my apartment pool for 30 minutes at around 1800 yds. Go me for actually being focused! I woke up Monday feeling a little stiff, but not really very sore. Go figure.

Oh right... til I took a shower. Apparently my JCC top doesn't cover my lower back. I did this to myself:


Try not to stare at my stretch marks, okay?

Yeesh! Funny story about that picture: I showered, put on lotion, and asked Craig to take a picture of my back for my blog. "Try to avoid getting crack in the picture, but if you do I can crop it" was my warning (aren't I nice to you guys?). He took a picture and handed me the camera.

I was staring at my butt.

"AHAHAHA you just got mooned with your own butt!" He was hysterical. I had to admit it though-- that's pretty dern funny.

It would have been more impressive if I'd waited another few hours for the burn to turn purple, but I didn't want to get mooned. Again. I'd had a hard enough day as it was.