The AIDS Lifecycle: N’everything I thought it’d be

As we rode out, The San Francisco fog was cool but beautiful. I tried to film myself for my friends and family so they could see me embarking on the journey. Trying to ride a bike while filming yourself isn’t easy and I almost crashed approximately five times. I decided to put my camera away and start actually paying attention.

I hit the first rest stop about 20 miles in – the sun was now shining, and I was starving. My typical reluctance to eat junk food went down the drain and I ate whatever I could in order to pump myself full of calories.

Before heading back onto the road, my friends and I decided that we should try some of the recommended “butt butter” that other riders deemed so necessary. This creamy substance was supposed to keep your thighs nice and slick to prevent chafing. Stepping into the porta-potty, I smeared it all over my thighs, butt, and any other crevice I could find below my waist. It began to tingle as if I had just lotioned my groin with spearmint.

Back on the road, the ride became vigorous as the terrain grew more difficult – we hit hill after hill. My body quickly sent signals that it didn’t like this at all. The steep drops after each hill didn’t help my fear of heights either.

During lunch time, all of us gathered along the beautiful seaside cliff to eat. Although my goal was to meet lots of new people, I stuck to my immediate friends to see if they had had as much trouble as I did.

A fellow rider from Colorado, overhearing the conversation, stopped to show me how to properly work and shift the gears on a road bike. It was the “love bubble” that everyone gushed about on orientation day.

In fact, I saw the love bubble percolating out of many moments. Nearly any time someone had a flat tire, three more riders would pull over to help. If I stopped even for a moment to stretch, each passing person asked me if I needed help with anything.

I arrived at camp to discover a most impressive set up. Checking in your bike, picking up your bag and tent, and figuring out where to go flowed in a most organized fashion. It didn’t hurt that we had one handsome roadie helping us either. Dinner service was already underway and the shower trucks were fully functioning.

Clocking in at 82 miles, my body still felt like it had been slammed into a wall. A sign hung on the shower entryway that said to keep showers brief as a courtesy. I took no less than 30 minutes. Dinner was delicious, and the air mattress couldn’t come soon enough.

However morning rushed up faster than I liked. I was the kind of guy who needed to sleep in and this ride didn’t allow such extravagance. At five in the morning, I couldn’t have slept longer if I wanted to as all the noise flooded in.