A few weeks ago I did the challenging bike ride I wrote about last year: Levi's Gran Fondo. This bike event has over 7,000 riders; many of whom come from different states and countries. This is a wild ride; the route covering some of the most beautiful and steep roads this county has to offer. Like last year I did the "Medio", which is 62 miles (I did 68 because I rode from Sebastopol), with over 4000 feet of climbing. It goes over Coleman Valley Rd, which is a long series of climbs: several as steep as it gets in this area. The difficulty of the ride this year was exacerbated by the relentless heat. It was an unusually hot year for this event, with temperatures in the mid 90's by the time I was making the first ascent. But I did it, slower than I would have liked, but I managed nonetheless. Sweaty, exhausted, cramping, and elated, I came across the finish line like I'd won first prize.

Somewhere mid-ride I began thinking back to my childhood and pondered how it could even be vaguely possible I would turn into the type of person who would be toiling insanely up a steep hill just to be able to do it. The irony was simply too great to ignore.

I hated any form of "exercise" as a kid. I was quite overweight: over 200 lbs by age 16, so moving was not comfortable or easy. My mother wrote me notes getting me excused from gym class, explaining I was asthmatic, which I was, and could not do the running. Truth is I hated running, so whenever we would have to run in gym, I had her write a note. I tolerated other things, like calisthenics. I could out jumping-jack most of the class, amazingly enough. I also really loved to dance and could folk dance for hours without stopping.

Clearly this does give away an obvious lie on my part: to my family, my gym teacher and even myself. I could have run, but I didn't enjoy it, so I was too "sick" to do that. I used this much of my young life to get out of being overtly physical in many realms. Biking, hiking, swimming: all needed to be modified for my "delicate" health.

In my early 20's a little miracle occurred which shifted something in me in a big way. My then husband and I were in Lassen National Park on vacation. He was determined to climb Mt Lassen and insisted I go with him. Of course I declined and he got more persistent. I gave in with resignation, fearing I might die trying to do this.