May 11, 2023: Re-entry and Return to “Normal”

It has felt strange not writing in the blog for the last few weeks. I’ve missed recording all of the happenings along the way, and communicating with you all. I truly appreciate all of your comments and notes of encouragement, and hope we can continue our conversation. I recognize that my posts will probably not be as frequent as they had been, but only because there may not be a lot to report. That being said, I’ll try to keep you updated at least once per week, assuming something worth reporting happens.

After dipping my front wheel in the Atlantic at St. Augustine Beach at the end of the cross-country journey, Jacob and I took a few pictures on the beach, and left to drop my bike off at the local bike shop so that it could be disassembled and packed up for pickup by Bike Flights. I’ll write more about the return of the bike back to Texas in a paragraph to come. The rest of the week, Jacob and I spent exploring the St. Augustine historical district, and walking on the beach, though it was still a little too cold to go swimming. We all met with my sister and brother-in-law Kathy and Randy, their daughter Lauren and her daughter, Addison, and spent a day exploring old St. Augustine, and taking in the sights. Of course, highlights of our tour included the Castillo de San Marcos National Monument and Flagler College. Castillo de San Marcos is the oldest masonry fort in the continental US, dating back to 1695. Flagler College, named after Henry Flagler, an oil magnate and railroad pioneer, was founded in 1968. Flagler College took over the Ponce de Leon Hotel, (which was built in 1888 as a luxury hotel). It was truly strange to see how the ornate grounds, lobby and foyer area had been transformed into a primary building used today as a dormitory and offices for the college.

It was so good to be back in Texas, to see and visit family I really had not seen in 2 months, and attempt to get back to “normal”. It’s so surprising how much you miss in 2 months. As an example, the second day back from my trip, I had a dentist appointment, a routine eye exam, and a dermatology visit, all within 6 hours. Of course, the paperwork had piled up, and a took a while to sort everything out. Debby did an absolutely tremendous job of keeping up with everything around the house, and I can’t thank her enough for all she did while I was away, all while taking care of Anna full time. I am truly blessed.

I discovered that my trip did, in fact, have some residual effects, some good, and some not so good. The first I discovered was that the bathroom scales recorded a weight loss of 12 pounds, which is nothing short of astounding, particularly since I thought I had eaten everything I could get my hands on over the past 8 weeks. I suppose all you have to do is exercise 8 hours a day, every day, and you can eat whatever you want. I’m thinking about writing a weight loss book on this premise, though I’m not sure how well it would sell. I was told that the average rider burns approximately 5,000 calories per day, and since there aren’t a lot of Pizza Hut drive-throughs in most of the towns we cycled through, there simply wasn’t sufficient time each day to restore the 5,000 calories, thus the likely source of the weight loss.

One of the biggest surprises came yesterday, when I was contacted by the local bike shop who received my bike, who was in the process of extensive servicing after my trip. They discovered that due to a manufacturing defect, my bike frame had developed a “fatal crack” during the trip, necessitating the need for replacement. The whole frame! Since the frame was under a lifetime warranty, Trek is replacing the frame at no charge, (a $2,500 “recall”). I’m pleased that the bike got me across the country for the entire 3,000 miles, and that the crack did not manifest itself enough to leave me stranded on the side of the road in the Arizona desert. I can only picture cycling along, and the steering wheel completely detaching from my bike and into my hands, much like what happened in those old black and white movie comedies staring Charlie Chaplin. (Please note, I’m not THAT old to remember a Charlie Chaplin movie, however Debby most likely attended all of the premieres, when they first came out). :). So for now, I’m trying to pick the frame color of my next old / new bike, which will contain all of the original components of the coast-to-coast bike, with the exception of the frame, which is the only thing anyone else might recognize.

The last thing I will say about my re-entry, to answer many questions, is that “yes”, I have been back in the saddle, at least 4 or 5 times now. I’ve resolved to ride a minimum of 100 miles a week, and so far, have held to that promise. I’m riding an older bike while mine is being serviced, and have returned to some of the original bike routes I used while training. I’ve signed up for a St. Jude bike tour fundraising event, and plan on completing the 60 mile course, at least while my mileage base is so high, and I’m used to riding 60 – 80 miles a day. In fact, my recent 50 mile rides since I’ve been back have felt pretty easy, though I’m sure that the old familiar feeling will return soon, once I come back down to earth.

As a way to keep me humble, I returned to the gym today to do some cross-training. The hour on the StairMaster felt reasonable, but the resistance training with weights felt as though I had not picked up anything heavier than a fork over the past several months. The truth hurts, I suppose, as does just about every muscle in my body. To add “insult to injury”, I also joined a “core class” at the gym today, and must report that this class felt like the longest 30 minutes of my life. It started at 10:30, and the first time I looked at my watch, the time was 10:31. By 10:35, I was praying to receive an emergency phone call, and by 10:40, I seriously considered surreptitiously pulling the fire alarm on the wall, in hopes that the class would be forced to disband. The perky instructor refused to slow the class down, ignoring my cries to “DIAL IT DOWN, MEGHAN!!!”, which I yelled about every 90 seconds or so. By the end of the class, I was so sore that I could no longer stand, and was forced to log-roll my body toward the door. Some of my other class-mates helpfully lifted me onto an exercise mat, and slid me head first out of the door, so that I would not block the entry of the more advanced “intermediate” class that was about to begin. I promised Meghan I would return again, once the feeling returned to my body. Whether that will happen before or after 6 months from now is anyone’s guess. Check back in soon, as I promise to record my progress, (assuming there is any). Thanks for reading! It’s good to have you back!