My third STP. Jules' second, Vicky's first.
It's becoming a fam-i-ly tradition!
It's been four days since the three of us rode in to Portland, through a city block of people lined up at a fence clapping and cheering. 205 miles in two days.
First Jules, then Vicky, then me. Only Sean wasn't with us, but I hope he will be sometime in the future.
As meaningful as my first STP in 2009 in some ways and, like last year's, more meaningful in important ways.
I still cannot believe that I, at age 64, can ride my bike 205 miles in two days.
We worked so hard, all three of us. Jules, younger and stronger, didn't need to work as hard and rode so much faster than Vicky and I could. That's the way it should be, and it makes me happy.
Vicky and I fighting arthritis and back injuries, knee problems and seat problems all through our training. Three weeks before the STP Vicky messed up her back so badly she couldn't even get off off of the couch. We both thought the STP was a gonner then. But she pulled through. Both of us, at various times, having our knees hurting so much that each stroke was painful. We loaded up with anti-inflammatories and hoped for the best. It is what you do when you have had back injuries, foot and shoulder surgeries, and arthritis. In other words, when you are in your 60s.
And then, with all of this, you just go out and will your way through it and have a wonderful time. Which we did.
Here we are taking off in the (very) early morning on the first day. Nothing hurt yet.
Eating creamsickles at the half-way point. I ate three.
Leaving early the second morning. 115 miles down, only 90 to go!
Jules, then Vicky, then me at the finish line.
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