"Die Wind Die"

April 3, 2010 - (weather report: 54 mph wind gusts)

I have never trained in the Spring on a road bike. I purchased my bike last year in June (Spring was but a distant memory at that point). Therefore, although the wind should not have been a great surprise a few days ago when I went out into the elements for the first time, IT WAS! Today is Saturday and my third day riding outside this year. I was hesitant as I packed up my car, glancing at the tops of the trees as they ferociously danced in the howling wind as if they would snap off at the middle at any moment. But, my thinking was simple: "what else am I going to do today and if not now - when"? It was only wind after all.

Digressing a moment - Thursday was the first ride, I spent much of the ride yelling for the wind to die and grunting loudly as I turned a corner and the wind took the privilege of slapping me in the face. On the run it rested a bit, but on the way back across the dam, it took full advantage of almost pushing me. I couldn't tell if it was "for" or "against" me.

Fast Forward - Today I knew the wind had it out for me. The first leg was too easy (in my mind I knew an awesome tailwind ALWAYS turns into a gruesome headwind on the way home). In the beginning I cruising along (my top speed according to my bike computer was 31.5 mph). Although I was giggling like a child as I sped along, I could not help but wonder how bad it would be when I turned around.
The first hour was astonishing - I felt FAST and FREE, as if this were as close to flying while still on the ground that I would ever feel. The elements were friendly to me and I was having a great time. It wasn't until I turned to head East that the gusts whipped at me from the side. It was a struggle to stay on the road and out of the way of cars coming up behind. I tilted my bike and leaned into the wind at a crazy angle for at least 20 minutes until I turned to head South - OH MY!

Head Wind or headwind [hed-wind] - noun - a wind opposed to the course of a moving object, esp. an aircraft or other vehicle (opposed to tailwind). A wind blowing directly against the course of a moving object, especially and aircraft or ship. (definition courtesy of dictionary.com)

Over the tunes playing in my i-pod and over the clattering of the hooks beating against the flag pole as they tried to keep the flag attached, the wind was screeching. It was all that I could hear, this ear-bursting noise that was impossible to tune out. As it wailed on, it proceeded to throw leaves and stones at me, drop sticks on my head and dust into my eyes. I squinted, closed my mouth and peddled as hard as I could. Yet, I still could not move any faster than 12 mph ( a far cry from 31.5). At points, gusts were so strong, my bike stopped and started to roll backward despite my peddling. There was no "rolling down hill" on this ride. I peddled up and down. I WANTED TO QUIT - but how? I was still 10 miles from my car. My only thought was "I guess I will get there going all of 12 mph then - better than nothing".
Finally, 58 minutes later, I saw the bridge ahead of me that stood only a few feet from my car and food and calm and rest. As I gritted my teeth, shifted my gears and lowered my body in order to gain as much ground as a could before my ascent, I charged up the hill with all the energy I had in reserve, determined to show the wind that I would conquer any attempts it had made to stop me that day. I was moving faster and closer to the end. But, just as I reached the summit of the hill (bike sign clattering back and forth in the wind, dust spraying and whirling through the air on the bridge in front of me, one large gust came at me from the left, sending my bike off the road, over the gravel and into the grass. There, I stopped, unclipped my shoes, planted my feet and held on.
I had officially been "bitch-slapped" by nature and less than 1/10 of a mile from the finish. I immediately started laughing as I stood on the side of the road trying not to get knocked on my butt while clinging to my bike with all the strength I could muster. When I finally did put my bike back on the road, I couldn't get on, let alone peddle. Laughing, I said aloud, "I can't even get on my bike".
Then, as if the wind had heard my surrender, the forces slowed, wind died down a bit and I re-positioned myself, got on my bike and peddled to my car.
I took a challenge (although looking back I am still not quite certain if there was a point to me doing this) and won (well, don't tell the wind that, I don't know if want to do another ride like this one).