@postaday 73; #postaday2011
52.3 miles today! My stats: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/72926908. The player will show how I did the regular route, plus more (without the hills a second time). I thought I’d be able to skip the valleys, but it’s a good thing I didn’t. I’m quite sore, but, mentally I am on top of the world! Accomplishment!
No coffee this morning so I popped a few green tea pills and smoked through a bowl of Capt’n Crunch cereal with low-fat organic milk. Yeah, because I CARE. LOL. That stuff is so sweet! I ate it in the garage so the cats could eat their own crunchies without orange tom thug muscling in. That cat needs its nuts clipped in the worst way. So elusive. We tried to catch it and its two brothers in the have-a-heart trap. Some nights I wish I had a super soaker water pistol to aim at its fuzzy balls as they go back over the wall.
Fueled by the world’s worst breakfast, I hit the road without forgetting anything. My ambition was to do 50 miles. I started on Kaumakani and rolled down toward Lunalilo Home Road, where I turned northeast and toward the Kamiloiki and Makapu’u hills. They are a part of my life. They are there and I must face them each time I ride. My heart rate topped off at 178 today, but before I got to the bottom of the hill and within one minute it was in the 150s.
When I turned up Kamiloiki, I could see toward the top of the hill the sparkle of bicycles and helmets, about 20 or 30 of them. Grrr, I thought. Now everyone will think I’m the end of that group. In case you’ve been under a rock, I’m competitive. I’ll own it. People in front of me are to be passed. People behind me are to be dropped. And the person on the bicycle, me, should pay attention to the data on the Garmin mounted on the bicycle to be sure she isn’t slacking off.

I couldn’t let this slow me down, but I decided to put it all out of my mind. Besides, I saw the last few of them pull out of the side street, which meant that some of them and perhaps even all of them cheated by not taking the hill proper. Where’s the challenge? I engage a mental exercise when I ride these hills: I concentrate on the road that’s about five feet and closer to me. If I look any further, I create a psyche-out situation for myself. I need to focus on the here and the now.
When I got to Makapu’u Lookout, I encountered the group, as expected. I decided to take their picture and find out who they were: the Try Fitness Hawaii group. I told them I’d put it on my blog, Lavagal.net. And you know what? I think a few of them recognized it. How cool is that?

Here’s to all of you folks who ride bicycle in groups. I often ride alone or with John. I love seeing friends and waving hello. Heck, I love it when people I don’t know on bicycles give me a little nod or a wave! In fact, today I saw the Red Hot Ladies riding along Hawaii Kai Drive. They waved. I love those gals! They include me in their emails.
I cannot stand being in a group. I blame my time in the USAF. I’ve been through basic training. I’ve had drill sergeants in my face. I’m not into getting scolded by somebody who doesn’t look that much healthier than me(I let John be my coach. Truly that’s enough!).
I also know that within these groups are people who are better than me and always will be. Some of them look like crap, but there ya go. Some of them are amazing, with rock-hard every things, and probably great personalities and corner offices. I can’t put myself through that. Let’s be friends, but if I compare myself to you, I’ll send myself into a downward spiral of depression. It affects everything: my family life, my marriage, my work. No, let me ride alone. It’s the best thing for me, and the best thing for my family.
P.S. If you’re a big fat woman with a flower behind her ear driving a big fat SUV and turning toward the Kahala Hotel or Waialae Country Club for brunch at about 9:08 a.m. this morning, and if you cannot let a chick on a bicycle get by because you have to get a certain parking space or at the buffet line ASAP, then screw you. You probably came from Mass, and there you are YELLING at me for trying to get through a 4-way stop without you T-boning me. If you’re right, then why not just run me over? Because, after all, you’re RIGHT! Go to confession: Give me three Hail Marys and an Act of Constipation for racing through a 4-way stop to stuff your face at the endless buffet.