The Trouble With Google Maps

My plan for today was:

B: 80minutes out-80 minutes back. Try to ride each leg in approximtelky the same time. Keep any pacing issues in mind for what will happen race day.

Last night, I got on Google Maps and planned out my route for today. It looks so innocent on here, doesn't it?

Pete told me where the hills would be, and I thought, "Ok, some hills will be good." Today rolled around and I just didn't have a very good attitude about my ride. I really just wanted to stay home with my family, but Pete reminded me that I should be happy to be going for a ride, and I decided to try and enjoy it. I brought a 2-hour bottle of perpetuem, a bottle of water and one serving of Hammer Gel. I took it pretty easy for the first half an hour, then I got to Bountiful, and you can kind of see what the hills really look like (follow the road up through the shadow and past the snow line, that's where I was headed):



I almost made it up those hills without stopping. I knew that if I stopped, there was no way I would be able to get back on. And I was right. I got to about 20 yards from the top, and I just had to get off and walk. It was so steep, I was standing up and it was taking all my weight to just push the pedals down. My heart-rate got up to 189 at one point. That's way to high. Now those are some good hills. More like a mountain. Thanks Pete.

Bountiful Blvd. was really nice and fun to ride on, though. The view was fantastic! I had to stop and take some pictures:



You could look down on The Great Salt Lake, and I rode right up behind The Bountiful Temple. What a beautiful building:




I was riding along Bountiful Blvd., and it was just about time to turn around, when all of a sudden, I went around a corner, and was plummeting back down into the valley! "Nooo!" I thought. I didn't want to have to ride back up that hill! I was going too fast to turn around until I got to the bottom, though, so I decided to just turn and see if I could get back onto Bountiful Blvd. a different way. I stopped for a minute and took my Hammer Gel, then I saw a guy out walking, and asked him the best way to get back up. He gave me some directions, and also told me that I could stay on Bountiful Blvd. and it would take me right down to Beck Street which I could take all the way into Salt Lake. I didn't give much thought to this since I was planning on going back the way I came. That's what my plan wanted me to do.

I learned that there is no easy way to get back up a steep hill once you come down it, so I had to struggle to get back up again. This time I walked a little longer because my gears locked up (I wasn't thinking strait, and I don't know that bike well enough yet to remember how to shift right) and I had to get off. I found a side street, though, and got back on there. I didn't think I'd ever get back up onto that road, but I told myself that once I got there it would be downhill all the way home. This was a lie. Just like the lie that the St. George Marathon is all downhill. Maybe it's more like a myth. I shouldn't have believed that myth, though, because I had a friend who had done the marathon and she told me there was a big hill in it. Anyway, this wasn't all downhill either, but nothing as bad as what I had just done.

Actually, I was enjoying that road so much, when I got back on it, that I totally missed the turn-off that would take me back the way I came, Indian Hills Drive. Before I knew it, I was seeing signs that said "15%" grade and "Trucks Use Lower Gear" and I thought, "uh oh." I started careening down these crazy steep and curvy hills, and all I could think about was Pete's X-ray and I could just feel the wheel trying to slip out from under me every time I pushed my breaks. I just kept thinking, "Don't break on the turns, don't break on the turns." But I was going so fast, and I had to keep pressing my breaks every few seconds. It was scary. 

I don't think I've been that scared since I was dating Pete and just getting into rock climbing. One day, we did a route where he was belaying me from the top, and when I got there, I climbed up and sat there with him. Then I could not get myself to climb back over that cliff and rappel down. I was just sitting up there crying and sniveling for quite a while. I can't believe he married me after that.... Anyway, it felt like that, and I was actually on the verge of crying as I came barreling down that hill. Now that I look on Google Maps, I can actually see the switchbacks. (The top white dot is where I had to get off and walk, and the bottom one is where the switchbacks started and it got really crazy.)



If I would have know it would be like that, I would have been more careful about missing my turn. But I had the directions from that guy...

He had also told me to turn onto Beck Street, so I did this when I got to the bottom of the hill. I must not have been thinking strait because Beck Street is almost a freeway. I got onto it, then cars were coming to merge on my right, and they were going very fast. I stopped at a little median, still shaking from my terrifying ride down the hill, and now scared of all the fast cars and wondering how to get off this road.

I called Pete. I knew it would freak him out because by now I was really crying and he would think I had been in an accident or something. I just had to talk to him, though. I needed him to calm me down and talk me through it, just like he did that day up on the cliff. He has a really good way with calming me down and talking sense into me. He told me just to walk my bike back up to the intersection where I could get across to the bike path on the other side of the freeway. I got off the phone with him, took a few breaths and walked my bike up. It was not a big deal at all. I got to the top, crossed the street and got on the bike path. I could have kissed that bike path! It was so beautiful to have something so safe after all that!

When I got into Salt Lake, the bike path ended and I had to cross Beck Street. There was a light there so I stopped and waited for it to turn green. And waited, and waited. I probably stood there for 5 minutes, and there was no sign this light would ever turn green. I was wondering if they have it set to only change every half-hour on Saturdays or something. Finally I just waited until there were no cars and went across anyway. It was really weird blatantly running a red light like that. (I hope there are no cops reading this that will come arrest me now.) I was very happy once I was across, though, because I had ridden here several times and knew what it would be like. In a manner of minutes I was home. 

I had to apologize to Pete for freaking out like that. I know it gave him a little scare. I am just a mess sometimes. While I was coming down those hills, I was wondering what in the world I was doing trying to do an Ironman. I can't even do a 29-mile (that's how far it ended up being) bike ride by myself, how can I do 112? I was thinking, "Why can't I be like a normal mom and spend my Saturdays playing with my kids, cleaning the house and baking? Maybe that wouldn't be so bad." I just felt like such a baby out there on my bike today.

Well, I guess, technically, I did do this bike ride by myself. I just needed a little encouragement, and I will probably have that at the Ironman too. 112 miles does seem really daunting right now, though. 

And despite that fact that I put spf 50 sunscreen on before I left, I still had 2 people ask me if I'd been in the sun today or something. Apparently I'm going to need to re-aply sunscreen more often than every 3 hours.  That's how long it took. I guess that's not too bad, considering how much I had to walk. I only went 20 minutes over my planned time.