The Point of No Return...

...when you decide that there is no way you will turn back, quit, give up, no matter what! I went for my last bike ride the other day on my bike until I see it at Lake Placid. Needless to say I forgot about the weather of Colorado Springs where rain comes over Pike's Peak out of nowhere in the spring and summer months. Climbing on my normal loop through the Air Force Academy, I realized that the inevitable storm would commence as I would reach the descent where I normally hit 50mph.

This is when I realized I have officially hit the point of no return. I started thinking about everything that could go wrong: a car clipping me, losing traction at high speed and get launched into a guard rail, run over by the bucks staring at me on the side of road, miss judging a corner on the road, or anything else you can possibly think of. Thank you Tour De France for implanting these thoughts into my head. The funny part of this is, cars on back roads attempt to swurve into runners more than cyclists. This might be a problem just in Colorado Springs, but I've never had a problem with cars hating runners anywhere else.

With all of this going through my mind, I realized there is no way I'm not racing in Lake Placid on July 24, 2011. If I crash my bike, I'll buy/rent/borrow another one. If I break a leg or an arm, I'll get an air cast or something and tape it up. I was watching the Ironman 2010 World Championship, and there was a lady who did the marathon with a boot on her left foot because she suffered a stress fracture weeks before the race. Of course now I'm only encouraged to do the same if I ever find myself in a similar situation. So what I'm saying is I'm past the point of no return, which in actuality occurred when I signed up for the race, and refreshed it when I ran my first marathon, swam 2.4 miles in the pool, and rode a century in Denver.

Now what everyone should realize is the chances of any of those things happening are slim to nil, and I'm just freaking myself out because well if I don't, who will. My apologies to anyone I may have worried, and to ease your mind, I did receive my my RoadId this past week in the mail which has my name, birthday, emergency contacts, and a message, "I fell and can't get up, put me on bike or call:". So if god forbid, anything happen to me, I'll be well taken care of.

6 days, 5 hours, 41 minutes