Cold and Wet

So, I was all geared up to go for a team ride today. I awoke at 7 AM, it was still dark, and I thought of the coincidence that our team ride was to be 100 miles, on the shortest day of the year. I struggled out of bed, experiencing some of those "new" creaky noises in my recently-turned 34 year-old body. I slowly chewed my euro breakfast of muesli + yogurt and downed a cup of tea. I usually awake with coffee, but I've learned that if I have coffee too close to the ride time, the bladder gets a bit too excited about 20 minutes past the last bathroom opportunity. I have yet to practice the PRO skill of pee-ing while riding, but I look forward to giving it a try this summer! I'll be sure to blog all about that... Anyway, the sun still wasn't up, but Emy was, and we checked the radar together. While it was not raining now, there was a giant blob of green/yellow/red moving our way, pretty much right on top of the planned route for the "Hard Man Hundie" (No, I did not coin this one). The porch thermometer said it was exactly 40 F, which is fine when dry, but bound to be pretty awful when wet. Still, I had to go through the motions. I got all kitted up, rain jacket (gotta love surrounding yourself in PVC!), booties, tights, wool socks, and warm gloves. I briefly thought about how my Pearl Izumi gloves are not very waterproof, but thought "Aw, I'm sure they will be dry enough!" Gave Bree and Emy a smooch, and headed down to the garage. Bree's last words were "Wow, it is really raining. Good luck!" Yes, it was raining, but I wasn't cold. I got about 7 miles north on the Sammamish River Trail and started to get cold. Both my feet and hands were soaked. As I reached the meet up area for the ride, I lowered my head and tried to stealthily and guiltily spin by, hoping that none of the people who saw my earlier email about how I was "definitely going to be there, but only do a metric 100 (100 km)". I vowed to at least ride a total of 25 miles, so I continued on the trail. I was passing quite a surprising number of runners, but I think I only saw three cyclists on the 12 miles before I turned around. I made it back to Woodinville, where there is a very nice bathroom, and used the hand drying blowers several times to attempt to dry my gloves a bit and get my fingers through the burning/tingling cycle. I felt quite bad for my teammates, who were no doubt out suffering as much as I was - but with the camraderie, I'm guessing they at least felt a little bit warmer. I called Bree to tell her I was just warming myself, and no, she didn't need to pick me up (it's only another 20 minutes). When I stepped out of the bathroom to the outdoors, my body immediately reacted by shivering uncontrollably. I realized I was borderline hypothermic, but thanks to my stubborn streak, and perhaps the last vestiges of Minnesota winter adaptation, I got on the bike and sprinted the first 3 minutes. After that I was fine all the way home - it helped that I couldn't feel my hands. Thankfully it is level the whole way back, so I didn't have to will my useless fingers to shift. When I got home, I took the necessary hot shower, and snuggled with Emy on the couch, with a perfect cup of Victor's coffee, courtesy of Bree, superMom/Wife.

Later, I read that the team shortened the ride to a metric century. Kudos to them. I'll ride again tomorrow :-)