You�d think I�d sleep very well the night after the big race. You�d be wrong. It was easier to sleep the night before with all the nervous jitters, than it was to sleep the night after. The emotions and images of the day swirled in my mind like some private little psychedelic theater. The only thing to do was to try and put it all down on paper�

~~WAKING UP~~

Even though the start-time for my event was not until 10:30, it was an early day for me: Up at 5:30 am; pinning pictures and ribbons to my jersey; gathering water and Gatorade; making sure I had all the goodies I planned on stuffing in the three pockets on the back of my jersey; taking pictures� By 6:30, we were in the car, heading downtown to meet Tiffany (our Team Coordinator for Team Arizona) who would take those of us not starting the 109 to our other start-points. Through all of this, I�m more excited than scared. A bit nervous and jittery, but not nearly so much as I expected to be.

Downtown, we stood shivering outside a huge white van, trying to figure out how to load up four bicycles as well as six people. The van would probably seat 12 adults, but it wasn�t built with bikes in mind. It was about 45 degrees outside�mild compared to much of the country, but cold for us Tucsonites. I knew it would warm up quickly, so I didn�t bother with layers, just wore my shorts and jersey and endured the shivers.

We managed to cram the bikes and people into the van without having to take anything apart, and away we went, taking Jeanie to her start-point. She was doing the 80 mile course. After dropping her off with hugs and well-wishes, we were stopped at the road by the police directing traffic. Something was about to happen�

~~PACE CAR!~~

The 109�ers had started at 7:00am. It was just after 8:00 at this point. Could they have come this far already? (29 miles including a hike over the dry Santa Cruz riverbed!) Several police motorcycles drove by. And then the lead Pace Car! Moments later, the lead pack�some of the best riders in the country�zoomed by right in front of us! It was a beautiful and inspiring thing to see. Poetry in motion, if you�ll forgive a tired, old clich�. They moved so fast and rode so close together, and yet seemed so comfortable and casual about it, swigging their water bottles and dangling their arms. Oh, to someday feel that strong, confident and comfortable on my bike!

After that boost of inspiration, we made our way to the start of the 67 mile course. (We all ride the same course, just start at different places and cross the same finish-line.) We had a long wait for our 10:30 start-time, which gave us lots of time for brooding and working up a good nervous frenzy. I thought poor Linda was going to be sick, she was so scared. She could have (and had planned to) ride the 109, but a couple of weeks before, she�d taken a bad spill on one of our training rides and put a hairline fracture in her tailbone. Her doctors told her not to ride at all because even a minor fall could cause a severe break. But Linda is such a tough and determined Lady. Her only concession to their advice was to ride 67 instead of 109. Again, I was not nearly as nervous or scared as I thought I�d be. (Not to say there weren�t flocks of wild butterflies stampeding in my stomach�I�d tried to tame them with peanut butter in my breakfast, but they quickly escaped that trap.) Maybe because I was so worried about Linda and helping to keep her calm that my own fears weren�t given a chance to manifest.

~~THE STARTING LINE~~

It was very crowded at the start and none of us were comfortable starting out in a dense pack of riders. None of the four of us had done anything like this before. So we made our way to the back of the pack. But more and more people kept coming and soon we were closer to the middle than the end�so we scooted back again. Only to have yet more late arrivals pile in around and behind us. Oh well. We had fun chatting with other TNT riders from around the country and tried real hard to act like we knew what we were doing.

A trumpet played the National Anthem. And then a cavalry charge�and we were off!

We eased out with the pack, beneath a big balloon canopy, crowds of people cheering us on. We pulled onto a big 6-lane street called Tanque Verde. The whole east-bound side was closed to traffic. How cool it was to ride down the center of that very busy and dangerous street! And with all those people�bikes as far as the eye could see! There was a beautiful sense of accomplishment to have fulfilled my commitment to myself and my donors, having completed a very difficult season of training and made it to the starting line. Those feelings were only slightly overshadowed by the worry of what was to come�the difficulties I knew were ahead, and a tiny fear of the troubles I could not anticipate�

~~THE WALL~~

It may seem odd, but the beginning of every ride is hard for me. The first couple miles are usually free and easy (unless you start on an immediate upgrade) but the next 3-7 miles are really hard as my lungs struggle to adjust to what I�m demanding of them and my legs warm up and find their rhythm. When I first started training, I thought I was already �exhausted� and how could I possibly go another 20 miles, or whatever distance was expected that day. Eventually I learned that it�s just a natural �wall� I have to break through and then I feel good and strong. I hope as I continue to train that the wall gets shorter and easier to break through.

Anyhow, we were several miles into the ride. I�d lost my teammates in the crowd, but I wasn�t worried about it because I didn�t expect to keep up with their faster pace. I was just pressing through that wall, not quite over yet, when we had to come to a stop.

~~SABINO CREEK~~

We had reached the Sabino Creek crossing. This is a traditional part of the ride (like the Santa Cruz crossing, but prettier) that takes you off the road and on a beautiful little quarter-mile hike through private property. The perpetually lazy side of me was glad for the chance to stop, even though we�d just begun. But this break didn�t turn out to be any sort of break at all�rather it was one of those unseen troubles. First we had to walk down a long stretch of dirt road. It probably seemed a lot longer than it actually was because we had to carry our bicycles. You see, that beautiful canopy of trees arching over our heads contained wicked thorns, which naturally would drop onto the path below them. To roll your bike along would be to invite certain flats.

Ugh. Arms tired. Hands sore. Breathing dust. But it was so beautiful! And then crossing the creek itself. Fortunately it was dry this year. It�s one of the few places in Tucson that frequently has running water year-round. So we�re slogging through sand and stumbling over large buried river stones, carrying our bikes.

We finally get through it and back on pavement. There were many people off to the sides fixing flats, but I was fortunate to have not picked up any thorns. I almost wished I had because I really wanted to just stop and rest. That hike wears you out in a whole new way. But I�d only just begun, and Lynn (our Team Coach) was waiting for me a few miles up the road. So I knocked the dust off my shoes, took and deep breath, and started rolling again.

As I mentioned, I normally pedal through that �wall� and then feel pretty good. But that creek crossing added a few new layers of bricks or something. My heart was beating too fast and my chest hurt. My arms were aching and my stomach was starting to cramp. But Lynn was waiting for me, so I pressed on. Not since my first �long� (19 miles) training ride way back in August had I felt this bad�and I still had about 55 miles yet to go!

~~COACH LYNN~~

Finally, I made it to the corner where Lynn was waiting for me. The rest of the team that I�d started with had already passed by. Lynn had started at the 109, but wanted to ride the rest of the race with me to make sure I was OK. I�m not sure how I could have finished the course without her.

From the point that I met Lynn, we had some long, steep hills to climb. As I mentioned, I�m already feeling pretty bad and it wasn�t long before I felt like I needed to stop and rest again. Lynn suggested trying to pedal through it, so I gritted my teeth and did so. I didn�t want to stop on the upgrade because it�s even harder to start from zero going uphill. I didn�t want to stop on the downgrade because I wanted that momentum to carry me up the next hill. Before I knew it, we were past those steep hills and on the �easy side� of that leg of the ride. And my first �real� break was coming up�

~~CRITICAL FAMILY SUPPORT~~

My Mom flew out here from Dallas, just to be with me for this day. My husband, Dean, and all three kids (Petra-12, Austin-10, and Nathaniel-3) were also there for me. The five of them would be waiting for me at pre-arranged Aid Stations with a giant green poster-board sign they�d made that said GO MOM and GO TEAM. They had fresh, cold bottles of water and Gatorade, as well as food.

That sign was the first thing I saw as we approached the Aid Station, and I nearly cried. It felt SO good to see them there waiting for me. I was so proud of what I�d done and that they could see me there on my bike, sweat and grime and all. Most of all, I felt extremely loved and supported, and knowing that they were out there just for me was one of the best feelings in the world. It was also fun to have Lynn meet my family and get some support from them as well. With the sacrifice she was making to match her much faster pace to mine, I was very glad that my family was able to encourage her, too. We rested a few minutes and then had to hit the road again. We still had about 45 miles to go, and the first of my two big fears was just ahead�

~~TANGERINE HILL~~

The next leg of the trip would take us up a street called Oracle. I�d ridden on it several times throughout our training. There�s one particular hill that�s very steep and comes after you�re already tired from some other significant climbs. We call it the Tangerine Hill because it tops out where Oracle intersects with Tangerine. On all my previous attempts to get up that hill, I ended up having to stop and get off the bike and walk the bike up to the top. I hated that hill. I was bound and determined to conquer it this time!

I�d finally broken through that wall. My breathing was efficient. My legs were feeling strong. But my right arm ached from carrying the bike, and I was still having a lot of trouble with the stomach cramps. And certain other parts of your body get really tired and sore after that long on a bike. I won�t get graphic on you�just realize that that is a battle fought the entire route once you pass the 20-mile mark or so.

Oracle starts off pretty easy and even fun. There�s one really big downhill we get to do, and that is such a rush! I got up to 36mph on that all-too-brief stretch of road! Then it starts to climb again and we�re approaching the Tangerine Hill. We stop for a brief rest just before the �big one.� But I know it�s not going to get any easier by putting it off any longer�so off we go. I drop the bike down into �granny-gear� and grit my teeth and push up that hill. I did have to stop once about half-way up to catch my breath and let my legs rest, but only for about 30 seconds. Didn�t get off the bike�didn�t give in to the desire to just walk up the blasted thing. I conquered that hill!

Would that it were the last hill. There�s another one just beyond it that is almost as bad, although I always managed to ride up that one. Lynn is good at talking me through some of these hills, just chatters away with interesting conversation and before I know it, the hills are behind me.

~~SPILLS & THRILLS~~

We then turned into a neighborhood called Rancho Vistoso. That�s about five miles of constant climbing, but the road is beautiful for bikes and it�s not as steep as the Oracle hills. Still, by this point, I�m feeling extremely tired. I had to stop a couple times to catch my breath, which I absolutely hated doing. But we�re crossing over the half-way point, and the worst of the hills are behind us now. And my family was a few miles ahead at the next arranged meeting point. Things were looking up�

As we left Rancho Vistoso, I was feeling pretty tired, but knew a break was coming soon. We left the beautiful streets designed for bikes and had to ride on some really raggedy, rough road. Not much fun, but not so bad as all those hills. The hills we�re facing are much shorter, and rolling, so you can get good momentum going down to carry you up and over. At one point, Lynn�s chain fell off�a common occurrence if you fumble a complex set of gear shifting. She pulled off the road to fix it and I pulled off with her. Understand that my feet are �locked� onto my pedals. They�re clipped on by means of a special cleat at the bottom of my shoes that locks you in sort of like being locked onto a snow-ski, but on a much smaller scale. Of course I�ve stopped thousands of times and know quite well how to twist my ankle just so to pull my feet off the pedals and set them on the ground. But this time�I don�t know, maybe I was just too tired. I tried to get my foot on the ground, but it just wouldn�t go. The bike comes to a complete stop and just falls over. Ouch. Gravel and rocks dig into my right shin. Ohhh, but I�m lying on the ground, and it feels so good!

As soon as I give Lynn a thumbs-up to let her know I�m fine, she starts laughing. Some police officers were standing nearby and one started to come check on me, but Lynn told him that I was fine and just wanted to nap while she fixed her chain. It really did feel good to just lay there for a few moments, gravel and tangled bike and all.

But this wasn�t a scheduled nap-stop, so I had to get up, dust off, and climb back on the bike again. It did me good though. By now, I�m feeling pretty good. I�m catching my second wind (and wondering if I ever had a �first wind�) and for the first time since the very start of the ride, I�m having some real fun.

Not long after that, we catch up with my family. Once again, that big green sign leaps out at me and it feels wonderful to see them all waiting for me. It was a fun stop. I got to show off my �war wound.� My leg was pretty scraped up from the fall and a little blood had run down my shin, so it looked cool. Made me look a lot tougher than I really am. In truth, I hardly felt it at all. There were a couple of motorcycle policemen there beside us and we had some fun joking around with them. I thanked them for all the help they and the other police were giving to the cyclists that day, then we got to joking about how many miles they�ve put on their bikes since we started. Seriously, though, the police that day were admirable. They stood out in the sun all day, making sure riders knew where to turn and directing traffic at almost all the intersections we had to pass through. Most often, they would stop all traffic when they saw bikes approaching, so we could sail through without having to stop. That was a really neat thing to experience! Through the whole 67 miles I rode, I think I only had to stop at 4 red lights.

~~TANGERINE HILL (THE OTHER SIDE)~~

We were back on the road again, turning onto the stretch that I�d most been looking forward to. In our training rides, we�d always ridden UP Tangerine (the same one that ends at Oracle at the top of that monster hill.) This time we got to ride away from Oracle and down Tangerine. We flew! We probably averaged about 25mph for that entire 7-mile stretch. It was really fun and not nearly long enough! We passed under the freeway and turned south, finally headed back toward downtown where the finish-line was waiting.

The roads along this stretch are pretty flat, but also raggedy, which makes for a difficult ride at points. I�ve gone about 45 miles and been on the bike (except for brief rests) for about five hours. We were behind schedule. The race-rules were very adamant and strict about how things would work at the end of the day. The race is over at 6:00pm sharp. If you�re still on the road at that time, you�ll get �swept� up by one of the support crew. And the sun was going to set at 5:20pm. The rules required lights on your bike from that point on, front and back. If you were found on the road after sunset without lights, you could be ticketed by the police and be swept off the road. Having no illusions about how quickly I could finish this ride, I had lights on my bike. Lynn, however, did not. Given our current pace history, there was little doubt I could cross that finish-line by 6:00. But could I make it before sunset???

~~RATTLESNAKE PASS~~

We had to pick up the pace. But my second wind was winding down and we had yet to climb Rattlesnake Pass. Rattlesnake Pass is a steep, but fortunately short, climb up through the northern tip of the Tucson Mountains. Lynn told me that Jeanie called is a �pimple� of a hill compared to the others we�d conquered. She was right. As steep as it was, it really was very short. Still, it didn�t exactly make it easier to go faster. The urgency to do so was felt particularly strong as we went through there, because the entire pass was deeply shadowed. The sun was dipping low toward the horizon. I was so tired, and my last big fear was still ahead�

~~THE SILVERBELL LEGACY~~

The last leg of the journey was south, down a long road called Silverbell. Such an innocent sounding name. Sweet, even. Deceptive, let me tell you. Every single time our Team trained on that road, it ate one of us! I took my first, and so far only, �real� crash on that road. The next time we were on it, Jeanie crashed. And the last time, Linda did. That was when she cracked her tailbone. In all honesty, it was inexperience and/or an instant of inattention on the part of all three riders that caused our crashes. But they all happened on the same stretch of Silverbell. That kind of track-record will give even the most practical of riders a very real, if superstitious, fear. And verging on total exhaustion, my confidence levels weren�t at their highest.

Our last scheduled meeting-point with Dean and everyone was about 1/3 of the way down Silverbell. Lynn had to go to the restroom (all the Aid Stations had porta-potties) and I just needed to stop. But we were running out of time. We were riding in constant shadow now. The sun was very low and seemed to be teasing us. And I was so tired! But the Aid Station we had planned on wasn�t where we thought it would be. Because of that, Dean missed it. We passed it and they weren�t there, so we kept riding, thinking the one they were waiting at must be a couple miles ahead. But each time we came around a bend or up over a hill, no sign of it.

~~THE COMMUNITY~~

I had to stop and catch my breath at one point and pulled over at a corner where a mom and her young son were standing to cheer riders on. They didn�t know anyone in the race, but lived nearby and came out just to cheer. The little boy looked like he was getting to meet a movie-star or something because we stopped to talk with them. The mom told us how special it was that we actually stopped to say �hello� and meet her son, and we told her how encouraging it was to see and hear the people of the city out supporting us. In fact, it surprised me to learn how important that aspect of the ride is. Before I started, I didn�t think I�d be paying much attention to that sort of thing�just focusing on the road ahead of me. But I soon learned otherwise. Every person waving noise-makers or tooting horns or just hooting from the sidelines meant something special. Every soul I saw working long hours at the Aid Stations touched my heart. I was glad we�d stopped to rest on that particular street corner.

~~DON'T STOP!!!~~

Somehow, Silverbell melted away behind us. At the time, it didn�t feel that way. But it�s kind of like child-birth, in that while you can distinctly remember that it hurt�a lot�you can�t actually remember the pain. We pushed hard down Silverbell, which was always at a slight uphill grade headed back toward downtown. I was exhausted, and while Lynn didn�t complain at all, I know she�d gone much farther and been in the saddle much longer than I had that day. The sun was setting. It was starting to get dark. I�d turned my lights on and told Lynn that if we got stopped because she didn�t have any lights, I�d give her mine so she could finish. She adamantly refused, saying she finished her ride last year, and this year was my turn. Come hell or high water, she was going to see me get across that finish-line. After all she�s done for me this far, I could not argue with her about it.

As we approached the final Aid Station on the route, we saw that big green sign again. Since they missed our scheduled meeting place, Dean went on ahead to the last Station. I asked Lynn if she still needed to use the rest room. She asked what I wanted to do, and I said I wanted to keep going. � Don�t stop!� She said that�s exactly what she wanted to hear, and we blew past them with cheers and shouts. �Four miles left to go!� they shouted. �Race you to the finish line!� I shouted back.

Those last few miles were the longest ever. My leg muscles were cramping. The toes and balls of my right foot ached something fierce. My hands were totally numb. Lynn was having to remind me to shift gears when the grade of the road would change. I was fumbling with the gears and couldn�t even tell when I�d actually shifted until I felt the tension in the pedals change. Braking was an iffy situation at best. My arms were trembling and on the verge of collapse. The sun dipped below the horizon. Surely they wouldn�t take Lynn off the course this close to the finish-line?

We finally turned off of Silverbell and onto Congress. �Miles to go� turned into �blocks to go.� I started to slide in behind Lynn because I was unsure of exactly where to go or turn for the finish, and it was hard to see because I still had my sunglasses on and darkness was coming on fast. But she said �Oh no you don�t! You�re going over the line first!� So I got to lead us beneath the huge balloon canopy�

I started to cry�

Tour officials were directing us where to stop. One was trying to tell me to veer off to the left, but I was so tired and felt I had too little control over the bike. Had I tried to go where she was telling me, I would have run her over. She seemed to understand and nodded at me as I rolled straight past her and another official jogged over to me and took hold of the bike. I was grateful that he did because I would surely have fallen over, even though I�d gotten my feet off the pedals this time. He held the bike steady for me while I just sat there for a minute. He took my ankle-chip and race-tag and helped me dismount. All the while I�m crying like a baby. He smiled knowingly at me and gave me a very sincere congratulations.

The first person to find me as I climbed off the bike was a dear Teammate named Gene. He�d finished the 109 hours before, but stuck around to make sure all the rest of his Team made it across the finish-line. He gave me a huge hug and the best-tasting peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich I�d ever eaten. As dear as he is to me, and as much as his hugs and support meant, I was looking for someone else. They were close by. I was soon surrounded by the kids, crying and hugging. I sobbed on Dean and my Mom for a bit. And Lynn too. We checked in at the TNT booth and got more hugs. Lynn and I went to receive our finishing medals�

We�d made it. I�d made it. But please understand this:

I prayed a lot! All through training, before and after the ride, and most certainly during the ride. I prayed for the safety of all my beloved teammates and all the racers that day. I prayed for strength and courage, boldness and peace. In no way did God make this easy for me�but He did make it possible! His strength and presence held me up and sustained my body during the worst moments of the ride. The people He placed in my life at this juncture were often His hands and voice, even if they didn�t know it. It was God who placed this burden on my heart, and He who helped me finish. And through Him, I will finish the 109 next year!

Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us. Hebrews 12:1