The title of this blog is a text I got from John after a more ominous and threatening message that read:
"blog or no sandals"
I told John that after reading his last two posts I couldn't possibly blog ever again...anywhere on the internet. Well, it wasn't that dramatic, but you get the idea. Anyway, John inspired me with his words of encouragement about Gehrig and Ruth and then Meagan kept badgering me to blog as well, so here I am blogging to close out the trip...A week later.
The last day was pretty humdrum in comparison to the other days. Meagan's knee was still bothering her and she joined us about 12 miles in at the beginning of the Boston Marathon Route for the remaining 25+ miles. The start of the ride was hilly, but not asskicking hilly...With the only exception being one hill on Main St. in Hopkinton in which I unsuccessfully tried to goose John, bumped into his tire causing him to lose momentum and forcing him to walk up the hill (I made it to the top...I apologized to him afterwards).
The Marathon route consisted of a beer at the Happy Swallow, a delightful lunch and one final (albeit incomplete) game of "I Went to Fenway Pahk"...I can't remember the whole thing, but there was an Ahdvahk (like an anteater), My Brother Tawmmy, The Green Mawnsta, Ice Cream Bahs, Those Damn Red Sawks, Manny Hair, A Friggin Sweet Hat and most importantly, Timy brought
THE HURT!
This game helped to distract us for a good portion of the ride, although I'm sure the fact that it was the last day was always in the back of all of our minds. But it wasn't until we saw the Citgo sign by Fenway that it dawned on me that we had actually done it...We had completed the ride...Or had we?
That's right loyal readers (aka Mrs. Letson)...Although we did indeed make it from Point A (Yankee Stadium) to Point B (Fenway), did we actual COMPLETE the ride? The answer is, no...We didn't. And in fact, nobody has!!
That's right...NOBODY. Sorry Liz...Sorry Bea...But it's a fact. Yes, mileage-wise MAYBE the two of you did, BUT...Not a single rider over the last two years has rode his or her bike from the starting point of every day to the end point of every day. I know I got us lost on day one last year, and I still feel bad but we didn't finish the day.
Don't get me wrong...There's no better feeling in the world on the ride then getting to Fenway and placing your hand on that rollup garage door. At the same time, what we accomplished is not diminished by the fact that we did not ride the entire route. It is still a tremendous feat of skill, strength and will.
What does it mean?
Simple...We have to do it again.
As I said last year, and ad nauseum this year, everything happens for a reason...So the cab rides each of the last two years were unavoidable...The results of our decisions AND events beyond our control. If we're determined to finish this ride, we'll do it again. Unlike last year, I'm not hesitant to commit to the ride again a week after having finished it. I would gladly do it again, and fully intend to if there is a willing contingent of riders with whom to take the journey.
In the interim, I'll prepare myself and hope for the best.
I had a blast this year and shared some great experiences with some really amazing people and I loved every minute of it...EVERY minute of it...The good, the bad AND the ugly. Until next year sports fans...Or maybe if I post once more...
So it goes...
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
"Welcome to the Audi Club"
Over the past few months there have been reviews of the New Stadium by papers, magazines, current and former players,T.V. stations, and countless bloggers. This isnt about the Stadium but about my family.
My Aunt Judy was a season tickt holder since the early 70s. After Pa, I would say that she is the biggest Yankee fan in the family. Her seats were simply amazing. Overlooking the Yankees batter box you were so close you could see individual sweat drops beading down Giambi's neck. I have gotten to go to some games with my cousin Mary or my Aunt, and I will never forget them. When the new Stadium plans came out, the Yankees left her and many other fans in the dark. Her seats were no longer affordable. After over 30 years of loyal patronage, no bargain, no discount, no nothing. Out in the cold, to make room for corporate sponers and company seats. When I hear about the empty seats in first rows of the Stadium, I think serves them right. They boxed out good people, and kharma is a bitch.
My Aunt was diagnosed with brain cancer last fall. I found out shortly after I moved up to Boston and started working at the Middle School. I was floored, and a million thoughts rushed through my head. I never felt so far from home in my life. In the past, I felt that I had always been able to step up to the plate when the family needed me, now it was as if I was useless.
The next few weekends I drove down from Boston to home on a regular basis. I went to the hospital, baby sat, and did whatever I could to try and help. The Yanks were out of the play off race, letting her down again. She was to sick to make it to the last game at the Stadium, and most of my family had no intrest in watching it anyway. (I think the tickets are still in her house)
I am happy to say that she has rebounded, and was strong enough to make it to Opening Day at the New Stadium. I do not know if it was irony or fate, but she has been getting treatment at Sloan Kettering, a charity that we gave money to last year. The people at Sloan are really exceptional, and for me the trip now meant more to me.
As Judy, myslf, my cousin Nicky, and his son Luca, walked into the Great Hall before the game there was a Dinseyesque atmosphere to the place. Sox and Yanks fans milled around gazing at the banners of Yankee greats, or stared at the jumbo tron showing batting practice. Sons and fathers posed under signs, as we headed towards our seats. Seeing my cousin with his son on his shoulders made me so happy. Luca was taking it all in, excited to see Derek Jeter, and more excited about his new shirt. He called the Yankees his team, and I hope it stays that way.
The seats were given to my Aunt by her friend Billy. Billy had reserved seats in the Audi Club for the four of us for 7. Judy said we would go up after the first inning. Walking around the Stadium, I could see the old one out of the corner of my eye. It was covered in a black screen, in preperation for the dismantling, it looked like it was wearing a mourning veil.
My Aunt and I attempted to make it to the Yankee Museum and were greeted by a 90 minute wait. She was willing to stick it out, but I was not. Im not going to make her stand there and miss the first few innings.
After a very quick first inning, we went to the Audi Club. A private elevator and an air conditioned lobby greeted us. Inside the lobby was a statue of George M. Steinbrenner III, sternly guarding the entrance way. I laughed out loud, as I passed the Boss and was greeted by an elevator operator. Judy and I then went to the Audi Club, and were given a warm reception.
The seats were plush, and we found a view with several flatsreens on the wall. Nicky and Luca came up a few minutes after us, and I could tell by Nicky's eyes that he did not want to stick around. Luca could not sit still, and thought that he would not get his seat by the field back, so Nicky went back to the seats. I was staying, I saw that there was sushi.
A whole dinner table filled with sushi. Rows and rows of beatiful looking tuna, slamon, shrimp, and California rolls waiting for me. Now, I did not know that the sushi was not self serve, so I walked over with my plate and started filling my plate as if I had just escaped a famined nation, I was approached by a server who loudly told me, "hey! You have to get served You can't touch the fish." I quickly said I was sorry, and saw that only five people were staring at me shaking their heads. So it could have been worse. By the third time I made it up to the sushi, the server was my buddy and hooked it up.
Judy looked relaxed and seemed to enjoy the a/c and the comfy seat. On her plate was some leftover Yankee potroast sliders and a piece of dessert. She encouraged me to eat more, which I olbliged. (Hey, you got to get your money's worth"
Around the fifth inning (don't judge me) we made it back to our seats. With my mercury level probably at an unhealthy level and my stomach filled with filet mignon I limped along my aunt, perfectly content. Then, I saw the black veil, and I felt so guilty. I was a bleacher guy at the Old Stadium, and here I was fresh from the Audi Club. I felt like Fredo being confronted by Michael, I did something wrong and was caught, the boat ride could not have been to far off.
Back at the seats Judy and I heckled the Sox players. She agreed that Pedroia looked like a smug asshole in his picture on the big screen. She also said that Youk looked like a child molestor. I told her about Varitek and the affaisr he had with the woman from NESN, that was interesting to her. Oh, and three rows in front of me, Stephen Colbert. Yeah, from the Report. He drank Bud Light, has two young sons, and a daughter, probably in high school. He sang God Bless America, wears Gap Jeans, and has an iPhone, with a Star Wars Storm Trooper decal on the back. No, I didn't yell his name but I did make him laugh with my heckling.
We left at the top of the 8th one of the greatest and longest games between the Sox and Yanks. *Hey, Luca is 3. If it was up to me, we would have stayed until the 15th, and he could have napped in the chair. I watched the rest of the game in my recliner at home, thanking God I saved my ticket.
In one of my classes this summer, an assignment was to use clay and create a memorial for anything we wanted. We had about 45 minutes, and were supposed to write on a piece of paper a brief description of what it meant. I am far from artistic, and my abilities range from stick figures to drawing Garfield. I did know what I wanted, and now I wish I took a picture but I will desribe it.
It was a baseball diamond, complete with foul poles. On first base, was what was supposed to be a wooden chair. On second base there was a more modern looking chair. Third base had a bench on it, and home plate was left alone.
One the card was my description:
Yankee Stadium 1923-2008
Three Generations of Yankee Fans
First Base: "The Old Stadium"
My Grandfather was the first Yankee fan in my family. He went there to watch his favorite player Joe DiMaggio play. He is the one who started it all
Second Base: "The Bronx Zoo"
My mom went to the games in the 1970s during the heyday of the "Bronx Zoo". She watched Guidry pitch, and Munson catch. She continued the flame
Third Base "The Bleachers"
I love the bleachers, and spent most of the games that I could afford out there. I took my sisters to their first game in the left field bleachers, and got a package deal for the Last Season.
Yankee Stadium had entertained, intimidated, thrilled, dissapointed, and exhilerated three generations of my family. We all could count on sharing that one common experience of a Yankee game as if it was one of the Sacrements of growing up. For that, I am eternally grateful for but also sorry for. My children and grandchildren will only know about the "House that Ruth Built" from stories and photgraphs. Like love one that has passed away, the experiences at the Stadium become somthing larger then life. The Yankees have been apart of my family since my grandfather was a small child in Little Italy, and will continue to be as his grandchildren grow up and have families of their own.
My Aunt Judy was a season tickt holder since the early 70s. After Pa, I would say that she is the biggest Yankee fan in the family. Her seats were simply amazing. Overlooking the Yankees batter box you were so close you could see individual sweat drops beading down Giambi's neck. I have gotten to go to some games with my cousin Mary or my Aunt, and I will never forget them. When the new Stadium plans came out, the Yankees left her and many other fans in the dark. Her seats were no longer affordable. After over 30 years of loyal patronage, no bargain, no discount, no nothing. Out in the cold, to make room for corporate sponers and company seats. When I hear about the empty seats in first rows of the Stadium, I think serves them right. They boxed out good people, and kharma is a bitch.
My Aunt was diagnosed with brain cancer last fall. I found out shortly after I moved up to Boston and started working at the Middle School. I was floored, and a million thoughts rushed through my head. I never felt so far from home in my life. In the past, I felt that I had always been able to step up to the plate when the family needed me, now it was as if I was useless.
The next few weekends I drove down from Boston to home on a regular basis. I went to the hospital, baby sat, and did whatever I could to try and help. The Yanks were out of the play off race, letting her down again. She was to sick to make it to the last game at the Stadium, and most of my family had no intrest in watching it anyway. (I think the tickets are still in her house)
I am happy to say that she has rebounded, and was strong enough to make it to Opening Day at the New Stadium. I do not know if it was irony or fate, but she has been getting treatment at Sloan Kettering, a charity that we gave money to last year. The people at Sloan are really exceptional, and for me the trip now meant more to me.
As Judy, myslf, my cousin Nicky, and his son Luca, walked into the Great Hall before the game there was a Dinseyesque atmosphere to the place. Sox and Yanks fans milled around gazing at the banners of Yankee greats, or stared at the jumbo tron showing batting practice. Sons and fathers posed under signs, as we headed towards our seats. Seeing my cousin with his son on his shoulders made me so happy. Luca was taking it all in, excited to see Derek Jeter, and more excited about his new shirt. He called the Yankees his team, and I hope it stays that way.
The seats were given to my Aunt by her friend Billy. Billy had reserved seats in the Audi Club for the four of us for 7. Judy said we would go up after the first inning. Walking around the Stadium, I could see the old one out of the corner of my eye. It was covered in a black screen, in preperation for the dismantling, it looked like it was wearing a mourning veil.
My Aunt and I attempted to make it to the Yankee Museum and were greeted by a 90 minute wait. She was willing to stick it out, but I was not. Im not going to make her stand there and miss the first few innings.
After a very quick first inning, we went to the Audi Club. A private elevator and an air conditioned lobby greeted us. Inside the lobby was a statue of George M. Steinbrenner III, sternly guarding the entrance way. I laughed out loud, as I passed the Boss and was greeted by an elevator operator. Judy and I then went to the Audi Club, and were given a warm reception.
The seats were plush, and we found a view with several flatsreens on the wall. Nicky and Luca came up a few minutes after us, and I could tell by Nicky's eyes that he did not want to stick around. Luca could not sit still, and thought that he would not get his seat by the field back, so Nicky went back to the seats. I was staying, I saw that there was sushi.
A whole dinner table filled with sushi. Rows and rows of beatiful looking tuna, slamon, shrimp, and California rolls waiting for me. Now, I did not know that the sushi was not self serve, so I walked over with my plate and started filling my plate as if I had just escaped a famined nation, I was approached by a server who loudly told me, "hey! You have to get served You can't touch the fish." I quickly said I was sorry, and saw that only five people were staring at me shaking their heads. So it could have been worse. By the third time I made it up to the sushi, the server was my buddy and hooked it up.
Judy looked relaxed and seemed to enjoy the a/c and the comfy seat. On her plate was some leftover Yankee potroast sliders and a piece of dessert. She encouraged me to eat more, which I olbliged. (Hey, you got to get your money's worth"
Around the fifth inning (don't judge me) we made it back to our seats. With my mercury level probably at an unhealthy level and my stomach filled with filet mignon I limped along my aunt, perfectly content. Then, I saw the black veil, and I felt so guilty. I was a bleacher guy at the Old Stadium, and here I was fresh from the Audi Club. I felt like Fredo being confronted by Michael, I did something wrong and was caught, the boat ride could not have been to far off.
Back at the seats Judy and I heckled the Sox players. She agreed that Pedroia looked like a smug asshole in his picture on the big screen. She also said that Youk looked like a child molestor. I told her about Varitek and the affaisr he had with the woman from NESN, that was interesting to her. Oh, and three rows in front of me, Stephen Colbert. Yeah, from the Report. He drank Bud Light, has two young sons, and a daughter, probably in high school. He sang God Bless America, wears Gap Jeans, and has an iPhone, with a Star Wars Storm Trooper decal on the back. No, I didn't yell his name but I did make him laugh with my heckling.
We left at the top of the 8th one of the greatest and longest games between the Sox and Yanks. *Hey, Luca is 3. If it was up to me, we would have stayed until the 15th, and he could have napped in the chair. I watched the rest of the game in my recliner at home, thanking God I saved my ticket.
In one of my classes this summer, an assignment was to use clay and create a memorial for anything we wanted. We had about 45 minutes, and were supposed to write on a piece of paper a brief description of what it meant. I am far from artistic, and my abilities range from stick figures to drawing Garfield. I did know what I wanted, and now I wish I took a picture but I will desribe it.
It was a baseball diamond, complete with foul poles. On first base, was what was supposed to be a wooden chair. On second base there was a more modern looking chair. Third base had a bench on it, and home plate was left alone.
One the card was my description:
Yankee Stadium 1923-2008
Three Generations of Yankee Fans
First Base: "The Old Stadium"
My Grandfather was the first Yankee fan in my family. He went there to watch his favorite player Joe DiMaggio play. He is the one who started it all
Second Base: "The Bronx Zoo"
My mom went to the games in the 1970s during the heyday of the "Bronx Zoo". She watched Guidry pitch, and Munson catch. She continued the flame
Third Base "The Bleachers"
I love the bleachers, and spent most of the games that I could afford out there. I took my sisters to their first game in the left field bleachers, and got a package deal for the Last Season.
Yankee Stadium had entertained, intimidated, thrilled, dissapointed, and exhilerated three generations of my family. We all could count on sharing that one common experience of a Yankee game as if it was one of the Sacrements of growing up. For that, I am eternally grateful for but also sorry for. My children and grandchildren will only know about the "House that Ruth Built" from stories and photgraphs. Like love one that has passed away, the experiences at the Stadium become somthing larger then life. The Yankees have been apart of my family since my grandfather was a small child in Little Italy, and will continue to be as his grandchildren grow up and have families of their own.
"We've come a long long way together, through the hard times and the good..."
*I have one more post about my trip to the new Stadium for later*
Driving back from Boston Saturday morning we listened to the 90's station on Sirius in Meg Mac's car. We heard some great tunes, some that reminded me of awkward dances in 7th and 8th grade, or driving in my friends car in high school. The card ride turned into a mini dance party as we drove went up hills that did not require third gear, a nice change of pace. As my hangover gradually dissipated (those Cliff Bar shots found a new purpose) Fat Boy Slim came on and I thought about how fortunate I really was.
So that being said, to all my Riding the Rivalry friends and family, I have to priase you like I should.
Billy Quinn you are a great friend, and I missed your sense of humor on this trip. Thanks for the pep text messages this year, and our "Magic Bus" ride into the BX this year. I hope your on the trip next year, and that the Mets don't give you any more headaches this year.
Bea I feel awful that I missed you while you were up in Boston, and hope we can meet up later in the year. You set the blog up, so all those reading this owe you some thanks. If it wasn't for you, we never would have finished last year, and this trip would not have occurred. You are a stand up guy Alex, and a great friend.
Elizabeth I know that you really wanted to make the trip this year and I am sorry I had to switch the dates. Not many people would drive two and a half hours from work to cook for four sweaty cyclists, let alone wake up extra early to drive back the next day. You not only listen to my crazy ideas but you encourage them and for that, I am very blessed.
Timy you made my fake I.D. college, and since that day my bank account has been hurting. That bike trail day is my favorite day of the trip and you made that happen. I could not have finished the trip without you this year. You owned those hills on the last day and should be very proud of yourself for that. If there was a "Big Man" award for the trip you earned it.
Meg Mac you smiled every day this trip. (It might have been a grimace from the pain a few times) I do not know a single person who could be smiling after taking on some of those hills but you did it. Thanks for bringing a great attitude on this trip, it was contagious. Without your constant picture taking, God only knows what moments would have been missed. I also hope that you enjoyed my rendition of "Delirious Love" for you and Billy.
Billy Corrao I never had an older brother, but you are definitely the closest thing have ever had to one. From the Hot Dog Quest, to the tuxedos at work you were always with me on harebrained schemes and the outrageous. I have always respected your ideas on teaching and opinions. Thanks for the prayers each morning and for providing stability. You have always been a great friend, no homo.
Tim Donovan drove out of his way to pick us up in Spencer when things got rough. The incredible thing is, this is a typical Tim Donovan move. He would give you the shirt off of his back, and the whiskey out of his glass if you asked for it. Thanks for throwing us a great BBQ in Shrewsbury and for your hospitality.
Rod Lucia thanks for all the advice and help you gave me with the bike. I appreciate your knowledge and patience with me. Sue thanks for reading the blog and being such a big help these past few years. You are both really incredible people
Letson family there are not enough words to describe your graciousness. Every time I go to your house I feel welcome and relaxed. Mrs. Letson thanks for that lovely comment earlier, it meant a great deal to me.
Jean and Joe I know that you have both never read this blog, and Jean you probably will never turn on the computer but, you both deserved to be mentioned. My parents are some of the hardest working people I have ever met and I admire them for their work ethic and commitments. There were times when I did not do my best or live up to their expectations and I know that I still did not let them down. I know that if I didn't finish the ride they would be there to support me and not judge me, and that why I never could quit. They called me every day, and my mom always wanted to be sure that I ate enough. When we ate at the Little Red Riding Hood store in Mass, there was a sign that said, "God's Greatest Gift is Family" and I cant think of a better way to end this post.
Driving back from Boston Saturday morning we listened to the 90's station on Sirius in Meg Mac's car. We heard some great tunes, some that reminded me of awkward dances in 7th and 8th grade, or driving in my friends car in high school. The card ride turned into a mini dance party as we drove went up hills that did not require third gear, a nice change of pace. As my hangover gradually dissipated (those Cliff Bar shots found a new purpose) Fat Boy Slim came on and I thought about how fortunate I really was.
So that being said, to all my Riding the Rivalry friends and family, I have to priase you like I should.
Billy Quinn you are a great friend, and I missed your sense of humor on this trip. Thanks for the pep text messages this year, and our "Magic Bus" ride into the BX this year. I hope your on the trip next year, and that the Mets don't give you any more headaches this year.
Bea I feel awful that I missed you while you were up in Boston, and hope we can meet up later in the year. You set the blog up, so all those reading this owe you some thanks. If it wasn't for you, we never would have finished last year, and this trip would not have occurred. You are a stand up guy Alex, and a great friend.
Elizabeth I know that you really wanted to make the trip this year and I am sorry I had to switch the dates. Not many people would drive two and a half hours from work to cook for four sweaty cyclists, let alone wake up extra early to drive back the next day. You not only listen to my crazy ideas but you encourage them and for that, I am very blessed.
Timy you made my fake I.D. college, and since that day my bank account has been hurting. That bike trail day is my favorite day of the trip and you made that happen. I could not have finished the trip without you this year. You owned those hills on the last day and should be very proud of yourself for that. If there was a "Big Man" award for the trip you earned it.
Meg Mac you smiled every day this trip. (It might have been a grimace from the pain a few times) I do not know a single person who could be smiling after taking on some of those hills but you did it. Thanks for bringing a great attitude on this trip, it was contagious. Without your constant picture taking, God only knows what moments would have been missed. I also hope that you enjoyed my rendition of "Delirious Love" for you and Billy.
Billy Corrao I never had an older brother, but you are definitely the closest thing have ever had to one. From the Hot Dog Quest, to the tuxedos at work you were always with me on harebrained schemes and the outrageous. I have always respected your ideas on teaching and opinions. Thanks for the prayers each morning and for providing stability. You have always been a great friend, no homo.
Tim Donovan drove out of his way to pick us up in Spencer when things got rough. The incredible thing is, this is a typical Tim Donovan move. He would give you the shirt off of his back, and the whiskey out of his glass if you asked for it. Thanks for throwing us a great BBQ in Shrewsbury and for your hospitality.
Rod Lucia thanks for all the advice and help you gave me with the bike. I appreciate your knowledge and patience with me. Sue thanks for reading the blog and being such a big help these past few years. You are both really incredible people
Letson family there are not enough words to describe your graciousness. Every time I go to your house I feel welcome and relaxed. Mrs. Letson thanks for that lovely comment earlier, it meant a great deal to me.
Jean and Joe I know that you have both never read this blog, and Jean you probably will never turn on the computer but, you both deserved to be mentioned. My parents are some of the hardest working people I have ever met and I admire them for their work ethic and commitments. There were times when I did not do my best or live up to their expectations and I know that I still did not let them down. I know that if I didn't finish the ride they would be there to support me and not judge me, and that why I never could quit. They called me every day, and my mom always wanted to be sure that I ate enough. When we ate at the Little Red Riding Hood store in Mass, there was a sign that said, "God's Greatest Gift is Family" and I cant think of a better way to end this post.
Friday, August 7, 2009
The remaining three (days)
Well, as you all know, the 2009 rivalry ride has officially come to an end. But since I might be de-friended by John (in life, not just on facebook) if I didn't blog about every single day of my journey, here comes the recap...
Day #5
Was probably my favorite day as far as scenery goes. We jumped on some bike paths for majority of the day. These babies were relativel flat, quiet and not crowded. They also traveled across bridges, alongside rivers and streams, and under towering trees. It was beautiful! But even better than the ambiance (pronounced aaahhhhmbioonce) was our two games of going-on-a-picnic played during our travels. Apparently we plan to bring a lot of unnecessary items on our picnics, so please see WJC's post for a full recap.
We stumbled across a minor road block (literally) when a section of the bike path was being repaved. We were definitely yelled at by a backhoe operator, but also managed to make friends with a shirt-less, spandex-wearing native gentleman who uninvitingly joined our journey for several miles. However his random conversation definitely made it worthwhile.
We also stopped at a cute little coffeeshop where I schooled Will.i.am. in checkers while Timy taught John the fundamentals of abacus (definition: also called a counting frame, it is a calculating tool used primarily in parts of Asia for performing arithmetic processes).
On a personal note, about 3/4ths into the ride my right knee started aching. It felt like I was developing possible tendonitis or ITB syndrome, but it could also be residual pains from an old college injury (no comments if you witnessed this injury first hand at QU circa 2005. Yes it was at the 80's party and involved frozen hotpockets. No I will not give more details.) But I managed to tough out the rest of the ride, and treated myself with some good food (Thanks Liz!!!), good wine, and an excellent albeit painful massage later that night.
Day #6
Was my let-down day. First of all, I woke up with some pretty intense right knee pain. I thought it would have subsided with some rest and relaxation, but apparently wine really can't cure all things. Secondly I knew that this day would be the most demanding physically, with the highest mileage count and most intense hills of the entire trip. I was in pretty poor spirits from the start.
We attempted to make some breakfast, but quickly realized that we had no other ingredients besides two ripe tomatoes and a carton of eggs. So we put the eggs away, Johnny fed tomatoes to the wildlife, we followed an extensive to-do list for closing up shop at Aunt Debs, stretched some of our muscle pains away and got on our bikes to find food.
It was fate! John somehow managed to find the perfect breakfast spot- an All-Organic diner with fresh-squeezed juices, nationally recognized blueberry pancakes and all homemade muffins and breads. Does that have my name written all over it or what?! We made our way to the counter, ate a ridiculous amount of food, took some pictures of John's gigantic pancake (chocolate chip, not blueberry... and yes I ate half) and continued with the ride.
We got about 20 miles into it, when I started to really feel the hurt. Each pedal around felt like something was going to snap in my knee. Now I'm thinking this is NOT tendinitis... maybe I tore my meniscus? maybe I had a stress fracture from falling on the bike on day #2? (...and yes, the fact that I do this for a living wasn't helping the matter. Overanalyze is my middle name)
I got so far as a random trading post company when I physically couldn't go anymore. I was literally falling off the bike in pain. Billy, being the wonderful boyfriend/bikeride companion that he is, stayed with me through my struggles. We called about 15 cab companies but no one could accomodate our two bicycles. Finally after it stopped raining and I was able to rest for some time, I decided I could make it to the town where John and Tim were eating lunch. It took some time, but we did make it. When we arrived, I was lectured on the importance of 'safety first, safety always' by John, and how he and Billy both didn't want to be yelled at by my mom for permanent damage. We ate some lunch and attempted to continue the ride.
We made it so far as Spencer when we decided that I could definitely not continue because that would be stupid, and that even if they rode their fastest, they couldn't make it to our destination before nightfall. A lot of trial and error options were attempted, but ultimately Billy just bought a bike rack, Tim picked us up and drove us back to his parent's place. We ate some bbq (excellent veggie skewers by the way!), drank some burrs, listened to stories about Scott's best friends... and passed out.
Day #7
What a bittersweet day! I couldn't believe this day had finally come. I was still in a ridiculous amount of pain and after a brief test-ride in the morning, knew I couldn't make it the full distance. We planned it out that Tim would drive me to the starting line of the boston marathon route and the boys would ride the full distance. Since the marathon route had fewer hills we thought I might be able to handle it. And if not, it had a ton of opportunities for public transportation!
I played around in the public library for about 45 minutes until we all met up at the starting line. We all rode the last 25 miles together, definitely at a slower pace due to my bum leg... but nevertheless it was together. We made a few pit stops along the way- at the delicious Linden (sp?) deli where we finally had a real picnic under a tree (side note: we brought nothing of what we spoke of on day #6, besides lemonade-iced tea mix), at the Happy Swallow bar for some beers and keno, and a rousing game of "I'm goin' ta Fenway Paahhhk, and I'm gonnna bring..." en route (I'll let Billy blog the details.) It was a tough couple of hills at the end, and my left buttcheek was totally on fire... but we made it through.
We ended our trip just as we started- with a picture outside of the stadium each one with a hand touching the wall outside. Only this time we had a few more scrapes, bumps and bruises on our bodies. And courtesy of Johnnyboy, cups of Jamo in our hands for a celebratory cheers.
It was a LONG journey, but we did it. All four of us. Billy's Dasani bike. My stupid knee. John's cut up elbow and leg. and Tim's... well,.... Tim really didn't have anything wrong with him. haha. but in the end you kicked ass on those hills! So... good for you Tim!
I learned a lot about myself on this trip, but also I learned a lot about each of you... things I don't think I ever would have seen or experienced in any other setting.
This was an incredibly challenging journey- mentally, emotionally and of course physically. I'm happy to have shared in it with you three.
Day #5
Was probably my favorite day as far as scenery goes. We jumped on some bike paths for majority of the day. These babies were relativel flat, quiet and not crowded. They also traveled across bridges, alongside rivers and streams, and under towering trees. It was beautiful! But even better than the ambiance (pronounced aaahhhhmbioonce) was our two games of going-on-a-picnic played during our travels. Apparently we plan to bring a lot of unnecessary items on our picnics, so please see WJC's post for a full recap.
We stumbled across a minor road block (literally) when a section of the bike path was being repaved. We were definitely yelled at by a backhoe operator, but also managed to make friends with a shirt-less, spandex-wearing native gentleman who uninvitingly joined our journey for several miles. However his random conversation definitely made it worthwhile.
We also stopped at a cute little coffeeshop where I schooled Will.i.am. in checkers while Timy taught John the fundamentals of abacus (definition: also called a counting frame, it is a calculating tool used primarily in parts of Asia for performing arithmetic processes).
On a personal note, about 3/4ths into the ride my right knee started aching. It felt like I was developing possible tendonitis or ITB syndrome, but it could also be residual pains from an old college injury (no comments if you witnessed this injury first hand at QU circa 2005. Yes it was at the 80's party and involved frozen hotpockets. No I will not give more details.) But I managed to tough out the rest of the ride, and treated myself with some good food (Thanks Liz!!!), good wine, and an excellent albeit painful massage later that night.
Day #6
Was my let-down day. First of all, I woke up with some pretty intense right knee pain. I thought it would have subsided with some rest and relaxation, but apparently wine really can't cure all things. Secondly I knew that this day would be the most demanding physically, with the highest mileage count and most intense hills of the entire trip. I was in pretty poor spirits from the start.
We attempted to make some breakfast, but quickly realized that we had no other ingredients besides two ripe tomatoes and a carton of eggs. So we put the eggs away, Johnny fed tomatoes to the wildlife, we followed an extensive to-do list for closing up shop at Aunt Debs, stretched some of our muscle pains away and got on our bikes to find food.
It was fate! John somehow managed to find the perfect breakfast spot- an All-Organic diner with fresh-squeezed juices, nationally recognized blueberry pancakes and all homemade muffins and breads. Does that have my name written all over it or what?! We made our way to the counter, ate a ridiculous amount of food, took some pictures of John's gigantic pancake (chocolate chip, not blueberry... and yes I ate half) and continued with the ride.
We got about 20 miles into it, when I started to really feel the hurt. Each pedal around felt like something was going to snap in my knee. Now I'm thinking this is NOT tendinitis... maybe I tore my meniscus? maybe I had a stress fracture from falling on the bike on day #2? (...and yes, the fact that I do this for a living wasn't helping the matter. Overanalyze is my middle name)
I got so far as a random trading post company when I physically couldn't go anymore. I was literally falling off the bike in pain. Billy, being the wonderful boyfriend/bikeride companion that he is, stayed with me through my struggles. We called about 15 cab companies but no one could accomodate our two bicycles. Finally after it stopped raining and I was able to rest for some time, I decided I could make it to the town where John and Tim were eating lunch. It took some time, but we did make it. When we arrived, I was lectured on the importance of 'safety first, safety always' by John, and how he and Billy both didn't want to be yelled at by my mom for permanent damage. We ate some lunch and attempted to continue the ride.
We made it so far as Spencer when we decided that I could definitely not continue because that would be stupid, and that even if they rode their fastest, they couldn't make it to our destination before nightfall. A lot of trial and error options were attempted, but ultimately Billy just bought a bike rack, Tim picked us up and drove us back to his parent's place. We ate some bbq (excellent veggie skewers by the way!), drank some burrs, listened to stories about Scott's best friends... and passed out.
Day #7
What a bittersweet day! I couldn't believe this day had finally come. I was still in a ridiculous amount of pain and after a brief test-ride in the morning, knew I couldn't make it the full distance. We planned it out that Tim would drive me to the starting line of the boston marathon route and the boys would ride the full distance. Since the marathon route had fewer hills we thought I might be able to handle it. And if not, it had a ton of opportunities for public transportation!
I played around in the public library for about 45 minutes until we all met up at the starting line. We all rode the last 25 miles together, definitely at a slower pace due to my bum leg... but nevertheless it was together. We made a few pit stops along the way- at the delicious Linden (sp?) deli where we finally had a real picnic under a tree (side note: we brought nothing of what we spoke of on day #6, besides lemonade-iced tea mix), at the Happy Swallow bar for some beers and keno, and a rousing game of "I'm goin' ta Fenway Paahhhk, and I'm gonnna bring..." en route (I'll let Billy blog the details.) It was a tough couple of hills at the end, and my left buttcheek was totally on fire... but we made it through.
We ended our trip just as we started- with a picture outside of the stadium each one with a hand touching the wall outside. Only this time we had a few more scrapes, bumps and bruises on our bodies. And courtesy of Johnnyboy, cups of Jamo in our hands for a celebratory cheers.
It was a LONG journey, but we did it. All four of us. Billy's Dasani bike. My stupid knee. John's cut up elbow and leg. and Tim's... well,.... Tim really didn't have anything wrong with him. haha. but in the end you kicked ass on those hills! So... good for you Tim!
I learned a lot about myself on this trip, but also I learned a lot about each of you... things I don't think I ever would have seen or experienced in any other setting.
This was an incredibly challenging journey- mentally, emotionally and of course physically. I'm happy to have shared in it with you three.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
"I knew you were unathletic John, but Jesus F'n Chirst it's a bike...little kids ride them"
Words of Wisdom from Mr. Scott Semple, Attorney. He was enjoying the fact that I fell off of my bike twice today. The last time, was when I was peddling uphill in Spencer Mass, and just keeled over and, boom, I am on the ground with some of my upper body in the right lane. Timy, laughed and wondered out loud how that was possible. I do not know.
It is pathetic that I think about blog titles during the course of my day. One option was: "I hope you stay ahead of the weather." This was said by a kindly firefighter from Ware Mass, who filled up our water bottles today. He also said, "This is why I don't ride my bike." Which might have been the title at one point. Other potential titles were:
"He loves grass"
"These things happen Johnny"
"Sweet Emotion"
"Did you have a cannoli today?"
"Band on the run"
"Love your socks"
howver, the Coronas kicked in and that is what is sticking in my head right now. So there we are.
Today started out with me riding my bike in a button down Columbia shirt. The joke was how Billy was going to loosen up my buttons before the ride was out. I was sweaty, and regretting the shirt choice, but the thought of beers and friends in Shrewsbury kept me going. Also, this would be the hardest day for me of thr trip. once it was over, it would be smooth sailing for me, and I would finish. I didnt finish what I started last year, and I was so close to completing it.
It was not meant to be. There were other plans for us this afternoon. In Spencer, Meg had the brillant idea of renting a Uhaul to get us to Donny's. Uhaul was closed though. (Billy and I walked over to check it out.) For a college town, Worcestor could not provide us with a big enough cab for 4 people and 4 bikes. One cab company hung up on Billy, after the fact they guaranteed a ride for people with bikes earlier. I felt so lied to. I bet Po-town could have, nay, would have cam through. Timothy M. Donovan came to our rescue this afternoon and picked us up at the side of the road. Thankfully, we were across from a bike store and Billy purchased a bike rack so we (and out bikes) could arrive in Shrewsbury.
A BBQ soon followed. Beers, laughs, stories, and laughs all followed. I am a fortunate person to have such great people in my life.
Tomorrow is the worst day for me, its the end. All over. Christmas Afternoon, a drop in excitement.
It is pathetic that I think about blog titles during the course of my day. One option was: "I hope you stay ahead of the weather." This was said by a kindly firefighter from Ware Mass, who filled up our water bottles today. He also said, "This is why I don't ride my bike." Which might have been the title at one point. Other potential titles were:
"He loves grass"
"These things happen Johnny"
"Sweet Emotion"
"Did you have a cannoli today?"
"Band on the run"
"Love your socks"
howver, the Coronas kicked in and that is what is sticking in my head right now. So there we are.
Today started out with me riding my bike in a button down Columbia shirt. The joke was how Billy was going to loosen up my buttons before the ride was out. I was sweaty, and regretting the shirt choice, but the thought of beers and friends in Shrewsbury kept me going. Also, this would be the hardest day for me of thr trip. once it was over, it would be smooth sailing for me, and I would finish. I didnt finish what I started last year, and I was so close to completing it.
It was not meant to be. There were other plans for us this afternoon. In Spencer, Meg had the brillant idea of renting a Uhaul to get us to Donny's. Uhaul was closed though. (Billy and I walked over to check it out.) For a college town, Worcestor could not provide us with a big enough cab for 4 people and 4 bikes. One cab company hung up on Billy, after the fact they guaranteed a ride for people with bikes earlier. I felt so lied to. I bet Po-town could have, nay, would have cam through. Timothy M. Donovan came to our rescue this afternoon and picked us up at the side of the road. Thankfully, we were across from a bike store and Billy purchased a bike rack so we (and out bikes) could arrive in Shrewsbury.
A BBQ soon followed. Beers, laughs, stories, and laughs all followed. I am a fortunate person to have such great people in my life.
Tomorrow is the worst day for me, its the end. All over. Christmas Afternoon, a drop in excitement.
The day finally came
I was fearing that today would come. Since we had managed to make it this far I figured that we would make it to Boston without any major incidents. This unfortunately was not to happen. We were going along pretty well this morning. We left Aunt Deb's this morning in search of breakfast since there was nothing in her house. We found a great little place which served breakfast which was good for Billy, John and I and it was all organic which worked great for Meagan. We got back on the road and we were making good time. We got to Ware and we were heading through town looking for a gas station to get more water at and we came across some firemen washing their trucks who offered to fill up our camelbaks. We were chatting with them and one of them said that he hoped we rode fast enough to stay ahead of the weather. And with that the day was jinxed. We were heading out of Ware and we made it to the top of a huge hill when it startyed to rain. John and I started down the other side and stopped by the bottom at a nice little Inn. It was starting to reeally come down so when Billy and Meagan caught up we held there for a little while to try to wait out the bad weather. It started to let up and we left. A little while later Meagans Knee began to bother her. Billy left John a message saying that they were going to try to get a cab and we would try to meet up later. John and I kept on going and when we got to Spencer we went to Subway for lunch. John upon entering the restaurtant told me that he was goin to have two. Yes thats right two footlongs in one sitting. He is a champion and you have to fuel the machine. We then after talking to Meagan and Billy a few more times waited there to figure out how we were going to proceeed since they had not been able to find a cab that would be able to acomodate the bikes and them. We then started to realize that even at a great rate of speed we wouldn't be able to make it to Timmy's house by a reasonable hour and we really didn't want to be riding through the bowels of Worcester after dark. Thankfully Timmy was able to come out and rescue us after the idea to try to get a one way uhaul rental fell through. We are now here at Timmy's enjoying a brew and hanging out. Burgers should be ready soon so till tomorrow I am signing off. Wish us luck for our last day.
A bench in Spencer, Mass.
That could be the answer given on Jeopardy and the correct response would either be:
a) Where is some place you do not want to get stranded?
b) Where are you most likely to not be able to get a cab? or
c) Where am I currently blogging from?
All three would actually be a proper response. Kind of like that Cheers episode and Cliff is given three historical figures and he writes "who are three people who have never been in my kitchen?"
Anyway, today was an interesting, frustrating and generally bizarre day. It was a very hilly day from start to finish and that is what led to many of our problems. Some of our problems included a stuck bike chain, falling of our bike, and a knee problem of unknown severity. But I'm not going to focus on the bad stuff, I'm going to talk about the good.
First, we ate at the Roadhouse Cafe. For those of you who are unaware, this place was nominated the best blueberry pancakes in the northeast! That's insane, right? Guess how many blueberry pancakes we ate as a group... I'll wait... Zero. Not one of us ordered one of these famous pancakes. Breakfast was delicious anyway, but still...
Next I want to give much love to Timy for making tremendous strides since day one. He really struggled out of the gate but the last couple of days he has been cruising up hills like a pro. So not only does he bring an endless supply of movie an T.V. quotes to rival John, but he's been a huge asset to the trip.
My next story is a brief one. Meagan and I, separated from the pack once again, found ourself at the "Tombstone Trading Co." a gun shop if you could believe it. I entered this seemingly reputable establishment to inquire about the phone number for a local taxi service (a long story which I'll leave up to Meagan to tell). The gentlemen were not very cordial in the least and one went so far as to advise me to "quit wasting my time and maybe try the bus." As I was about the exit the edifice, one of the old men's hearts must have grown 3 sizes a la The Grinch. He offered Meagan and I a ride "to Spencer, but I can't getcha no further." What a sport! Shortly thereafter another man offered us a ride in his pickup truck, but Meagan bravely insisted we decline and we got back on the road.
We eventually made it to Spencer, reconnected with Timy and John, had a delicious lunch at Subway where we explained the ride to the amazament of the employees (who insisted that as much as they like Lance Armstrong they could never do what we're doing.)
Now, knowing that sunlight is short and Worcester is not a place you want to be caught in the dark, we're waiting in Spencer on a bench listening to some teenage babysitter explain how much her little charge "loves grass" as she admires John's socks. We will not ride all the way to our intended destination, but the day has not been a failure... I'll let the others explain once we get to Donnie's parents' house. As for me, I'm done... I just blogged from my iPhone.
So it goes...
a) Where is some place you do not want to get stranded?
b) Where are you most likely to not be able to get a cab? or
c) Where am I currently blogging from?
All three would actually be a proper response. Kind of like that Cheers episode and Cliff is given three historical figures and he writes "who are three people who have never been in my kitchen?"
Anyway, today was an interesting, frustrating and generally bizarre day. It was a very hilly day from start to finish and that is what led to many of our problems. Some of our problems included a stuck bike chain, falling of our bike, and a knee problem of unknown severity. But I'm not going to focus on the bad stuff, I'm going to talk about the good.
First, we ate at the Roadhouse Cafe. For those of you who are unaware, this place was nominated the best blueberry pancakes in the northeast! That's insane, right? Guess how many blueberry pancakes we ate as a group... I'll wait... Zero. Not one of us ordered one of these famous pancakes. Breakfast was delicious anyway, but still...
Next I want to give much love to Timy for making tremendous strides since day one. He really struggled out of the gate but the last couple of days he has been cruising up hills like a pro. So not only does he bring an endless supply of movie an T.V. quotes to rival John, but he's been a huge asset to the trip.
My next story is a brief one. Meagan and I, separated from the pack once again, found ourself at the "Tombstone Trading Co." a gun shop if you could believe it. I entered this seemingly reputable establishment to inquire about the phone number for a local taxi service (a long story which I'll leave up to Meagan to tell). The gentlemen were not very cordial in the least and one went so far as to advise me to "quit wasting my time and maybe try the bus." As I was about the exit the edifice, one of the old men's hearts must have grown 3 sizes a la The Grinch. He offered Meagan and I a ride "to Spencer, but I can't getcha no further." What a sport! Shortly thereafter another man offered us a ride in his pickup truck, but Meagan bravely insisted we decline and we got back on the road.
We eventually made it to Spencer, reconnected with Timy and John, had a delicious lunch at Subway where we explained the ride to the amazament of the employees (who insisted that as much as they like Lance Armstrong they could never do what we're doing.)
Now, knowing that sunlight is short and Worcester is not a place you want to be caught in the dark, we're waiting in Spencer on a bench listening to some teenage babysitter explain how much her little charge "loves grass" as she admires John's socks. We will not ride all the way to our intended destination, but the day has not been a failure... I'll let the others explain once we get to Donnie's parents' house. As for me, I'm done... I just blogged from my iPhone.
So it goes...
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