Team In Training Update: Fundraising Home Stretch!

I am thrilled to report that donors have generously helped me meet 75% of my fundraising goal of just under $3000! We're at $2175 and counting. If you haven't donated, it's quick and secure at http://www.active.com/donate/tntgsf/AlexaWeberMorales!
You'll get an immediate receipt via email for your taxes.

As for training, Sunday's 18-mile bike ride went well. It was my first time out in the group with my bike--I've been training for the bike mainly in spinning class. I got lost driving to the Orinda Sports Park on San Pablo Dam Road so I was late. I set out with a few stragglers and they immediately left me in the dust. I momentarily caught up with them at a traffic light. "Ah, you're supposed to ride your bike fast, then?" I joked. The light changed and they zoomed out of view. I pedaled along, thinking this hybrid clunker idea of mine was perhaps not so good after all. But on the downhill I crouched over my too-high-handlebars and picked up some speed. At the water stop I passed two people on fancy carbon fiber triathlon bikes so I began to feel a bit better. Overall the ride took me about 1:40 to complete, and I didn't feel exhausted when it was over. The route is spectacularly beautiful, too.

Yesterday, I went back with my mentors to try to do the loop twice. Once again, they were ahead of me in no time, but I'd had my seat and handlebar heights adjusted at a bike store and it seemed to have an effect. I kept them in my sights with some difficulty. We met at the bottom of a long hill.

Standing as I spoke briefly with them, I forgot that my left foot was still clipped in the pedal, though my right was free. As I lost my balance to my left, I did a spectacularly clattering drop-and-roll into the street, causing a car to swerve away. I stood up and felt fine until Claire pointed at my leg. Impossibly, I had punctured the outside of my right calf with the crank in four neatly spaced holes. Further, I bruised my left leg in five places. Finally, I had broken my seat, wisely purchased at Wal-Mart, where all great bicycle racers score their components. I insisted I was OK despite blood pouring down my leg. We took off again. At the next turn, however, about 30 minutes later, I had to stop, unscrew my seat and see if I could fix it -- it felt like someone's fist was under one butt cheek, pushing my hip several inches higher. I insisted they go ahead, but warned them I might not be doing two loops after all.

Endurance-wise, I did well on the amazing hills of Bear Creek Road, but once Claire and Matt were out of my sight I slowed massively. I got back to my car (the ride took me about the same time, factoring in the stops for falling and fiddling with my seat). I stopped to buy gas and felt the eyes of wealthy Orindites staring at my crappy truck, rendered crappier by the previous night's smash-and-grab of the stereo. Briefly, I felt an intense dislike for rich people. Then I headed through the tunnel, got home and took a bath, feeling like a wimp for not doing two loops.