Tour de Lance

   
 Lance Armstrong is my inspiration for the day. About 5 summers ago, my family took a 200 mile back ride from Cumberland, Maryland to Washington, D.C along the C & O canal. Most families go on a cruise for vacation, or take a nice trip to the beach-not my family. We bike across the coast.  Nothing about biking for 4 days straight screams vacation to me. We all put down my dad's trip. And it was not until after we finished it were we thankful for the experience. The first day out it poured the rain, we had 3 flat tires, and everything got covered in mud. Our simple 25 miles took us over 8 hours. At the end of the day my mother sat on her bed and cried and threatened to call her mom to come get her. It was that bad. The following days got slightly better, but challenges were still there. The trail was supposed to be historical, but ended up being just plain boring. One day, my sister and I counted 204 turtles in a 3 miles span. Bored much?  We also saw a peacock. What the random? On our next to last day, we experienced a detour. That was lovely. 5 additional miles, up hill, in the humid sun. Slay me. We all could have killed my father at this point. My brother, who was 8 at the time, got pulled in a cart for half the trip. To this day, he denies that he was ever pulled, but I can not forget how his tongue sticking out at me as I rode behind him for the final 60 mile stretch.  When the trip ended I am pretty sure we were all expecting a giant parade in our honor, or at least a crowd of people cheering us on, but instead we were greeted with statue and a water fountain. We were disappointed? Perhaps a little, except not really. Hello, we had just finished a 200 mile bike ride! What was there to be upset about? My brother on the other hand was thrilled. This was because if he finished the trip, the parentals promised him new bunk beds. Oh really? My sister and I got a pat on the back and we rode our bikes the whole way! Guess who the favorite child is?
  Today, my dad and I rode 10 miles on our bike. It was pathetic how much my butt was hurting. I thought back to the days when our family could ride 60 miles -no problem. Minus some chaffing, we were champs. As I pedaled today, my dad and I discussed this trip. It was definitely no beach trip, but it was a fun time. After the 5 miles up hill, we breezed back with 5 easy down hill miles - and followed up our exercise with a nice Powerade and a slice of pizza. Delightful. As I lay in bed, my butt screams with pain. I am a weakling. I am surely not ready for the Tour De France or a triathlon for that matter, but Lance deserves some serious props for his buns of steel.