If you know me or have read previous posts, you might know by now that once I get some wacky idea in my head, I get fixated upon it—even if it’s completely foolish. I was very excited about my last day in the White Mountains and wanted to do everything that morning.
“I’m doing a mini-triathlon– running, biking, and swimming. Who’s in?”
“Come on. Let’s just say 20 minutes of each.”
Still no takers. Apparently, they’ve gone on one of my adventures before.
Downing some coffee, I grabbed my music for leg 1 – running the Saco River Trails. I started running, but then was distracted by the fitness stations along the trail. Rings just hanging there for anyone to try? Yesiree bob. The Olympics were still fresh in my memory and seeing the gymnastic guys kick ass on the rings inspired me to try to do anything on rings. I did sets of some sort of V pull-ups and was pretty happy with myself, although any onlookers might have mocked the attempt. And then, I was back running the trails.
Ooh, what’s this? Some sort of pole things? I don’t know why, but suddenly coming upon fitness equipment in the middle of nature makes me very very happy—even if I already know they’re there. The signs suggested you step up on them. I decided I was more bad ass than that and sat down in front of the tallest one to do V leg raises back and forth over them. The usual result—they were much harder than I anticipated.
Oh, I could go on about the mighty wonders of the fitness trail, but let’s skip over the push-up station and the rest of the run and move on to Leg 2 – biking. I’d planned to grab my bike and ride the fitness trail and headed that way. But then, something inside me said, “Go try the mountain. No one is here to stop you or scare you about bears. Just go for it!”
Next thing I knew, I was at the base of Mt. Attitash. This satisfied three urges – 1.) Yesterday, someone told me I couldn’t do it, so I desperately wanted to try; 2.) Nobody knew I was over here and I have a weird need for anonymity at times; and 3.) It felt forbidden to sneak up there, which makes anything all the more exciting.
I tried to ride in through a gap in the trees onto an unpaved trail. Result – it was too steep, too overgrown for me to ride on, and I instantly fell and hit my ankle bone on a rock or something. It stung like hell for 30 seconds. Bad start.
So I headed over to the paved roads and rode up, until my legs, heart, and lungs all screamed in unison – Stop, dammit. STOP!! After each body part recovered enough for me to hop back in the old saddle, I climbed little by little, up the lower part of the mountain with my body battling my mind. My mind would say, “This isn’t so bad. Look how far you’ve come. You just got into a rhythm. Keep going!” Then my body would scream, “Stop, regroup, breathe, you crazy bitch. What the hell are you doing?!”
Once I made it up a tiny fraction of the mountain, I headed back for the unpaved area. Oh yeah, true mountain biking, baby. I started riding down, feeling the forbidden thrill hit me again. And then, boom. Stopped. Too many rocks, ditches, roots, etc. It wasn’t going to happen. Maybe some bike-riding ninjas could ride it; maybe not. But let’s face it—I knew absolutely nothing about mountain biking. So I returned to the paved section and began the descent with only one working brake and the front part of my seat missing (staples remained). Both which could lead me into a dangerous, painful, if not embarrassing situation since I wasn’t wearing any underwear. Hey, I got dressed quickly and dashed out the door.
Damn, this is fast! The same thrill when skiing down the mountain and you’re in the exhilarating moment in between skiing fast and losing control.
Alive and unscathed, I returned to my family and we headed over to the pool. Sweet happiness —an empty pool! Encouraging the kids to swim laps with me, I got in as many as I could before more families arrived.
We then packed up and spent a couple of hours at Diana’s Baths, a natural swimming hole / waterfall area, before heading home.
Hmm, what to do tomorrow? Jumprope? Train like a Spartan? Votes?