Riding Bikes Is Hard - Singing Makes It Better

I enjoy music, like just about everyone else.  Unfortunately, I’ve reached that point in life when the music that brings me the most joy is now relegated to its own station.  Not old enough for that to be the ‘oldies’ station, just the ‘throwback’ station.  I hate the term throwback. 

Anyways, many of my favorite songs are favorites because of the memories they evoke.  Below are a few of the songs and associated memories I love:  

Separate Ways – Journey – I see my dad drumming on the steering wheel of our Dodge Caravan every time I hear it. 

Walking on Broken Glass – Annie Lenox – I remember coming home to my mom rocking out to this song.  I didn’t catch her mincing across the kitchen floor like there was glass on it, but that’s what I imagine. 

She’s Got Skillz – All-4-One – Reminds me of being 13 and doing silly dances with my friends, mostly just shaking our butts. 

Magic - Pilot – Teaching my 3-year old sister to sing that song and repeat lines from “Happy Gilmore.”  

Stronger – Kelly Clarkson – A particularly triumphant bike ride with Karina that I’d like to detail here. 

In 2010 Karina suggested it might be fun to borrow road bikes and ride around Bear Lake.  It was an oddly great idea then, and it of spun out of control to the point that we both owned road bikes and padded shorts.  The 2012 Cache Valley Century was Karina’s first 100-mile ride, which is a big deal.  The day of the ride I was grumpy and in poor shape and made the whole thing terrible.  The first hours were pleasant enough, but I was slow and fell behind the other riders, and since Karina was riding with me she fell behind too.  By the halfway point I was riding into a phantom searing hot headwind and was visibly cranky (I think I actually had an angry aura around me), but Karina was doing her best to encourage me.    

Our first road bike effort - scared, tired, and happy

 Around Mile 85 we were creeping past cornfields and heard an explosion like someone was shooting at us (seriously).  Karina’s tire had been blown out by a goathead thorn.   No patch or replacement tube is a match for a two-inch sidewall gash.  So there we were, 85% of the way through Karina’s first 100-mile ride, facing defeat.  She had the motivation to finish, but no bike.  I had the motivation to keep sitting right there, but a bike with perfectly good tires.  It just made sense to trade bikes and let Karina finish.  I worried as I waited at the finish line for Karina to come in.   I knew those last miles could be awful and I felt guilty for being so unpleasant to bike with, which had delayed Karina’s finish.  Plus it was so smoky that day, the finish line had been dismantled, and the course finished with an uphill segment.

All my fears faded when I saw Karina riding across the finish line.  She looked great, strong, and happy.  My heart nearly burst when she told me how she finished.  After 6 hours of suffering with me, I think she was alright riding the final miles by herself, but also had no support, and was wearing shoes that were too big and riding a bike that rattled.  Instead of stopping frequently to eat and cry (like I would), Karina kept peddling and started singing “Stronger.”  It was the best song for that ride and inspires me to this day:

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger
Just me, myself and I
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone

So strong!

Every time that song comes on I see Karina biking up that last hill.  Happy and strong.  It makes me smile.  

After this experience we developed the No Guilt Rule: either one of us can ride on ahead at any point without feeling guilty.  We meet up at aid stations and finish together, but don’t suffer together when we could be enjoying the time on our bikes.  When we do ride together we always sing. 

You should watch this, Kelly Clarkson is the only American Idol that matters: