The long road to Girona

It took 18 months to get here. Eighteen months unlike any the World has experienced. It was March 2020. I was a week away from leaving for Barcelona. A trip I had been looking forward to, and training for, for months. Until I wasn’t.

A lot of planning went into that trip. Having signed up for a women’s cycling camp in Girona, Spain, I had purchased a bike bag that I could easily travel with. I also got an indoor bike trainer, that I could set up with Zwift, an online virtual reality software that allows you to simulate different terrains from the comfort of your home. I bought new bike shoes and a new helmet, having crashed my old one a few years back. I even bought my first pair of bib shorts, a new jersey and several pairs of bike socks. The way I saw it, it was all worth it. This was going to be my cycling year. 

Determined to become a more competent bike handler, I signed up for a six-day camp in one of the world’s cycling meccas, where half of today’s pro peloton lives. That alone was enough to have me geeking out. The plan was to hone my skills at the camp, and then fly to the South of France in late June to once again partake in TdF festivities, while at the same time, riding some of the same roads the race would start with in Nice. Finally, in August, I was to make my triathlon comeback at Steelhead 70.3. After all that riding around mountains in Europe, surely a half Ironman would be a piece of cake. 

Man plans and G-d laughs. Grandpa used to love saying that. Boy was he right. Clearly none of that ever happened. A year that will forever live in infamy, 2020 was just flushed down the drain as we all spent a good portion of it locked away in our homes. 

Being the first of four international trips that went away for me that year, I assumed the tour operator would do the right thing, and follow their policy; which was to fully reimburse the trip if they had to cancel it. Ha. Yeah right. The owner of the bike shop, flatly refused to accept reality, even up to just hours before borders around the world slammed shut. I kept getting emails insisting “the weather” was just wonderful in Spain. “What Covid? All’s good here. We’re not cancelling anything.” He kept getting more and more nasty, until reality slapped him in the face and he had to accept the trip would in fact not be happening. But did I get a refund? Nope. All he was willing to offer was a credit. To be used by the end of 2021. My money, would get reimbursed only if COVID prevented me from travel during that year.

So here I am. Truth be told, when I signed up for the redo a few months back, I wasn’t all that thrilled. The bitter taste left in my mouth by the experience with the bike shop, didn’t really inspire me to want to go. Also, the only choice I had, was for a week in September, when Spain can still be notoriously hot. But alas, unless I just wanted to lose the money this was my choice, so I signed up for it. I wasn’t convinced it would happen anyway. 

In the interim life got busy. Things appeared to be getting back to normal. Borders reopened. And I jumped at the chance to spend two weeks in the Alps trekking around France, Italy and Switzerland. Note I said trekking. Not cycling. Translation: I’ve been on my road bike outdoors exactly twice this Summer. I’ve been on my indoor trainer for three weeks. That’s it. Three weeks training for a week riding in the Pyrenees. Oops.

To say I am completely unprepared is an understatement. Eighteen months ago it was quite the opposite. I was super motivated and as bike fit as I’d been in years. Today, not so much. And yet, in an odd way, I’ve found myself slowly getting more and more excited for this trip.

I’m still pissed off at the bike shop. And I can guarantee no matter how wonderful the guides, I will never travel with them again. That level of unprofessionalism is inexcusable. But the thing is, that doesn’t mean the trip itself won’t be fun. I mean heck. I’m going to Spain. I’m going to Girona. Just being there, soaking up the atmosphere of this cycling obsessed town, enjoying the food, the wine, and what I’m sure will be a fun group of folks to ride with will be awesome. So what if I’m in awful shape? I’ll just ride with the “beginner group.” And if at some point it becomes too much, well that’s what the SAG vehicle is for. I can get off my bike and enjoy the drive. I did that more than once while cycling in the French Alps a few years ago, and let me tell you, there’s no shame in that. And the drives were incredible. 

So yes, it’s 18 months late. And a lot of stuff has happened in between. But I’m heading to Spain for ten days. I’ll be visiting places I’ve never been to before. I get to spend time with family, and I get to ride my bike in the Pyrenees. Really, at the end of the day, what more can I ask for? 

See y’all on the other end.