Team Knight Striders

Strider Rider Road Report:  Steve tricked me! He sent me over to Bunker Hill last night and said we were going to participate in "Ride after Dark" with the Circus City Cycling Club. Funny thing, he never showed up! I raced over there thinking I was running late, only to discover I was nearly 2 hours early! Once dusk arrived, me and about 75 of my newest best friends... proceeded south past Bennett's Switch to the end of the Nickle plate in Cassville. At Cassville, there were three SUV's with the rear hatch up serving hot cider, and hot cocoa. After a short break there, it was back to Bunker Hill where we were given cookies, protein bars and very spicy chili. We went right past the drag strip where they were racing. I saw an old purple ss nova just like my brother Gary used to have. It was 44 degrees when we started, and 39 degrees upon finishing. There was every kind of bike there, including bent's and even a tandem, but mostly it was those crazy road racers!! That trail is kind of creepy in the daytime, it was down right scarey out there in the dark. Luckily the wind died down, and the stars came out and it was a pretty cool 15mile round trip. Take a look at the pix I posted in the photo gallery. Next time, I hope some of you other riders will be there!!!!!

ATM 2009

Patricia Peterson

I did not go to Washington with the intent to participate in the ATM. I merely wanted to show my support for the team. I wanted to cheer everyone else on to victory. Mostly, I went because I wanted to honor Collin. When I realized that a bib was available, the thought crossed my mind that I should be a replacement. Then, I remembered that I didn’t have any running shoes with me. If the truth be known, I don’t even own any running shoes! As it turned out, Carolyn just happened to have with her, a brand new pair of size 8 New Balance shoes. She talked me into wearing those shoes Sunday morning because we would be doing a lot of walking. We needed to make our way to the subway, over to the Pentagon, and then maneuver our way around to strategic locations along the course to cheer on the team. Upon arrival to the staging area, I was handed a bib. There was no question, I was expected to go and so, I did.

The starting line is on the interstate, adjacent to the Pentagon. The runners are sent out in “waves”. Now, I know why they call it “waves”, because it truly is a sea of people. I was looking at a literal mass of humanity like I had never experienced before. There were 25,000 people being funneled on to that highway, and were near the back. I was privileged to be the guidon bearer from the sound of the gun, and the entire 23 minutes it took us to reach the start line. So, by the time I saw ground support near the end of the 1st mile, I was already feeling worn out and was asking myself “how did I get into this?”, as well as “how do I get out of this?” Did you ever notice that you can’t get off an interstate highway just anywhere? As soon as I heard the cow bell, horn, and cheers of the ground support crew, I pretended I was in a parade and gave it my best beauty queen wave.

By the end of the 2nd mile, I thought I would puke. Somehow, I held it back and when I saw the photographer I tried to look like I was running using my best “Bay Watch” stride. I made it to the 3rd mile and I felt so hot I wanted to rip my clothes off. Too bad I didn’t have my best sports bra on, because I surely would have pulled a Mia Hamm, right then and there! Instead, I took the H20 offered me, poured it over my head and continued on. It was during the 4th mile, along the Potomac River that I noticed the big fat dead rat in the road. Suddenly, I was inspired to pick up the pace, before I saw any big fat alive ones!!

I kept looking ahead for that 5 mile marker. According to the rules, anyone not at the 5 mile mark at 9:35 am would be diverted past the 6 and 7, and forced to proceed directly to mile 8. Shelby and I had discussed it. Once I had made it to mile 5 by 9:35 am, I would be free to relax with the knowledge that I could have as much time as I would require to complete the course. Finally, I saw it. There it was. The 5 mile mark was in clear view. Yeah! I made it!! A race official yelled out to the runners behind me, (yes, believe it…there were people behind me as far as 1.5 miles back) “You have 1 minute to cross this line!”. WooHoo, I made it! I made it!! I had achieved my 1st goal. I had made it, across that line. I was elated! Next goal: Do it all again. Make it the next 5 miles as well! I began to believe that I really could do it. I decided it was a good time to go ahead and walk a bit, as I had made the cut and the road was once again at an incline.

As I crested the hill, I encountered approximately ten young strapping soldiers in camouflage fatigues, standing shoulder to shoulder. They were blocking my way. I tried to ignore them, to just go around them. I could see the group I had been running with just 15 feet beyond those soldiers. “Sorry Ma’am, you have to turn here”, one said. “What! Wait! No! No!! No!!! I made it, I made it!” I cried. As I attempted a weave and bob to get passed him, he did a quick side step to once more block my path. With a more forceful tone he repeated “Ma’am you HAVE to turn here!” A participant along side me began to take issue with him. She too tried to tell him that we had made it, but he was having none of it and once again directed us to turn and pointed to his left directing us down 14th street. I didn’t have the strength to argue any further, so I complied. If I had not made it to mile marker 5 within the designated time, I could accept that. But, to have made it (albeit with only 1 minute to spare) and then to be denied the opportunity I had earned, was especially disappointing.

The wind went out of my sails. My bubble was burst. My legs felt heavy and I began to look around for the slug bus. “What’s the use”, I thought to myself. I felt so bad; my body did not want to go on anyway. Then, I began to think about Collin, his tenacity, his spirit, his determination and his persistence. HE wasn’t a quitter. I remembered the pictures of him in Afghanistan. I remembered the one of him sleeping on the ground. I thought about what Collin must have felt like on one of the seven times he was on that very course, running that very race, at that very spot. I thought about how fortunate in life I have been, and what a privilege it was to even be there. Someone must have recognized the dejection I was feeling at that moment and said to me, “make that SFC proud”. I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and to keep going, all while thinking “I don’t want to be a Nancy; I don’t want to be a Nancy…” I look over to my left and notice an elderly white haired woman walking her dog, faster than I am running. “I AM a Nancy! I AM a Nancy!!

Mile 9 I am on the bridge back across the Potomac. I look down at the river and consider jumping. Perhaps it would be easier to swim the rest of the way back. I see several Coast Guard boats circling directly below, and wonder if they are reading my mind? The final meters of the course take you off the interstate down a very steep exit ramp. It was punishing, causing much strain on my left thigh and right calf. After that I could only walk across the finish line. No, I wasn’t properly prepared. No, I did not have any business being out there. But, it was an opportunity for me to honor Collin. It was an opportunity that I could not ignore. Next year, I will be better prepared. This time, I did all that I could, for as long as I could, the best that I could. I think Collin would be satisfied with that.