Biking for MS: Day 6. Kathryn, ND to Napoleon, ND.

Friday, July 7. Kathryn, ND to Napoleon, ND.

During the night, I could hear a few snores from Jeremy (hehe, sorry, not sorry for the call-out, Jer!) in the next tent over, but I also heard an animal rusting around. I thought I heard a mild, "Moo," but, surely, that was just the herd in the distance. In the morning, Jeremy confirmed he watched a cow walk by our tents! I think I saw the loner walking by the road when I left camp, too.

I awoke at 4:38am, riddled with anxiety. I didn't want to get back onto the busy highway with all the trucks. My body hurt tremendously and I felt extremely nauseated. My face was puffy and my body was sore. Regardless, I packed up, like usual, had some oatmeal, but I later realized I had skipped coffee, which would become a lesson learned. I headed out for my first 100-mile day ever (it was supposed to be 97 miles, but with anything over 90, most go ahead and ride to 100). Almost immediately, my chamois chafing started to hurt, sending piercing pain signals to my brain. I really wasn't sure how I'd get through the day. It was a long climb out of Kathryn and my body wasn't having it. For the next 30 miles, my muscles were in a total seize. My head hurt and I was having mental confusion. I couldn't focus my eyes. It felt like a combination of dehydration, lactic acid build-up, exhaustion, anxiety and/or a panic attack, and impending doom. I was having a migraine, but I didn't yet realize it. Due to our extra early departure (6:45am), the truck traffic wasn't quite as bad and it got even better after passing a major highway turn-off. Shortly after getting back onto the main highway (Kathryn is about 4 miles off the main road), we crossed the Continental Divide. My pain just kept getting worse. I could barely pedal and struggled to ride for 5 minutes at a time. I had never felt that badly and I knew something wasn't right. The hardest part of these trips is being honest with yourself and others if you're not feeling well. No one wants to have to quit and get in the van. They all say there is no shame in doing it, but, yet, not a single person had to ride in the van yet over the month of the trip, so far.

Getting into Rest Stop 1, which was a buggy pull-off at the bottom of a hill on the side of the road, I announced I couldn't do it. I hid behind the van and cried quietly. I was so embarrassed to be quitting. While I tried to soothe myself and be okay with the situation, I finally realized I was having a migraine. I ended up taking a very long break in order to hydrate, take ibuprofen, get some caffeine, and take a small dose of Xanax. Lo and behold, the mental fog and anvil on my head started to lift. My best bud Jeremy was driving the lead van that day and he intended to do a century by riding back to the rest stop to meet the group. When I saw him, he was 38 miles in and I had only ridden 30 miles (so, I had to somehow still get through 70 miles), but I was feeling like I had been reborn and might be able to ride. I was shocked, along with everyone else. He helped me make some adjustments to my bike to see if I'd be more comfortable (dropping my saddle 1/4 inch and straightening my handle bars a tad. I couldn't believe how much better I felt both physically and mentally. It's hard to say exactly what was going on, whether it was anxiety and emotions driving my migraine or dehydration or hormones or what. Regardless, I was relieved to be bouncing back. I decided to give it a shot to continue riding. He was determined to ride a century that day, which would be a 2nd one in a row for him since he had ridden one the day before. He felt good and I felt great, somehow.

Rolling into the last rest stop, Jeremy and I still had quite a ways to go - I'm forgetting what our distance was at that time. Less than a quarter mile from the rest stop, we rode through a small swarm of bees and one stung me on my upper, somewhat inner thigh. And it was STUCK in my leg! I nearly hit Jeremy while trying to swat it away, but somehow managed to not wreck. I swell up badly from bee and wasp stings, so I wasn't sure how the next few minutes would go. Would I use my Epi Pen? If so, then I'd have to go to the hospital. Would I be able to continue riding? Immediately, at the rest stop, Jeremy got out Benadryl and an ice pack for me. The stinger wasn't stuck in my leg, thankfully, and I didn't have any breathing issues (I've never had any with stings, but I just swell up badly at the sting site). The ice seemed to keep the swelling down and I didn't seem to be having any other reaction. However, could I still ride the remaining 50 miles or whatever it was? I decided to keep going. Right before we blasted off, Janet told us that a Sheriff said a tornado had touched down a few miles away and to "get moving." (Where???) I guess we were riding in the correct direction to get away, even though the sky looked a little ominous. As much as I'd love to see a tornado, I certainly didn't want to get caught trying to outpedal one or hoping I could just lay in a ditch and be safe. Besides the semi trucks from the day before, tornado and lightning were my two biggest concerns about biking through the Midwest in summer.

For most of the ride, we had favorable wind conditions and the rolling hills didn't seem to bother us. We met up with a few of the other riders for a photo opp at a random place called Dinosaurs of the Prairie, which was a bunch of old farm tractors and machines along a little ridge. As cheesy as this sounds, it felt truly magical to be savoring the day in a totally new light.

By the time we got to the turn-off for town in Napoleon, Jer and I still had to complete another 30 miles for me to hit 100 miles for the day. Jeremy would end up with 105 miles, but he didn't mind. (Yes, the math added up, somehow). We decided to do an out and back to get the mileage. The way out was super fun and we had the wind at our backs. We were amazed at how rolling the hills of North Dakota were and the number of lakes there were interspersed, but we knew it might mean a painful return ride because of the wind. The North Dakota landscape has been pleasantly surprising, even though it's endless farm fields.

Jeremy and I played mental games, had goofy chats, sang songs, talked a little philosophy, but I mostly devised an action plan of how long I could go before I needed to stop and chug water. We are the same age, so it's been easy to relate and have things to talk about. My shoulder pain never returned and even my discomfort in the saddle seemed to improve, even though the chafing really should have felt worse by then. We did my water stops, had snacks, and took photos. Even if it was nearly 7pm, we knew we had 3 more hours of daylight, if truly needed.

I don't really understand how I not only bounced back, but it was the best I had felt on the trip. Jer and I had a really great heart-to-heart about our friendship and the trip overall. We had very little traffic, so we were able to ride side-by-side, which makes it so much easier and nicer to talk while riding. The last 10 miles of the ride were really tough, riding straight into a headwind. Usually, anything under 10 miles is typically a breeze mentally, but we were thirsty and tired and ready to be done. I had never ridden anything farther than maybe 84 miles, which was on a previous Bike the US for MS trip in either 2014 or 2015. Getting through 100 miles today after the rough start to the day was a feat in and of itself.

Though we arrived at the campground in Napoleon, ND nearly 2.5 hours later than the rest of the group, everyone was super happy for our century and proud of me. They always say there is no shame if you have to get into the van, but this was something I wanted to do for myself. I wanted to ride a century. I wanted to overcome the anxiety and bodily dysfunction. I am so freaking stubborn! Maybe I really am a crazy cyclist after all.

As soon as we got to camp, we, smartly, set up our tents, knowing we would soon turn into zombies. The campground had showers and the warm water made me so sleepy, but it felt amazing to be clean - washing off the bugs, sunscreen, salt, and dirt; cleaning myself of all the day's grime, while keeping the great energy flow state. Everyone else had eaten already, but they recommended a diner in town called The White Maid. It was a short walk, which felt good after the day's ride. We both ordered cherry-chocolate milkshakes and split breaded mushrooms, as well as our crazy meals. I got a bacon cheeseburger that had two grilled cheese sandwiches for the bun and he had the 3 Little Pigs, which was ham, bacon, pulled pork and cole slaw on a bun. Maybe we were just ravenous, but the food was to die for.

By the time we got back to camp, I had just enough time to make a s'more over the fire (but using a Reece's peanut butter cup, per Jeremy's recommendation) before catching the sunset over a field. The s'more was tasty, despite the initial mental confusion over the peanut butter addition. I love fluffer nutter sandwiches, though, so PB, chocolate, and marshmallow is a great combo to me.