On May 28 I rode the Le Grand du Nord Marathon. It was the first time I was on my bike since becoming "Momma".

Ok, confession here. I am not an endurance cyclist. I came to cycling as a commuter- living in La Crosse for 12 years I never owned a car, biked everywhere, and hauled some outrageous loads on my bike. I think the most ridiculous was pedaling my new pressure canner across town on my handlebars. It was so big I could hardly see over it, and held it with my chin. So I've put a lot of miles on my bike, but rarely all at once.

Last year at Le Grand du Nord I was five months pregnant, handing out Embark packs and wondering how our planned camping trip would treat my expanding self. It was one of the last times I was on my bike before Sylvan was born. As he grew, an old knee injury was aggravated and being of "advanced maternal age" I figured I'd better listen to my body. Once he was born I was adjusting to the demands of a tiny human while still trying to run the business and launch Embark. Before I knew it, it was winter, then syrup season, then spring, and I still hadn't found my way back on my bike.

The morning of the race was an illustration of dreary. Low 40s and mist-drizzle. Sylvan wasn't super awesome at sleeping the night before, and it took an above average coffee intake before I could think in paragraph form. Eric finished outfitting my bike, donned his fox suit and headed to meet the Joshs at the Pointed North/Embark Maple checkpoint. I was leaving at 10, and Sylvan's early morning meant he was ready for a nap before I headed out. I nursed him, settled him in and handed the reins of baby-keeper to my mom. I was off!

It was raining in earnest as I rolled up to the starting line. I tried to catch a few photos, but there was so much water on my lens that they turned out as bleary as I felt. At ten we started, and to my surprise I wasn't left in the dust, or mud as they day would have it. We climbed out of Grand Marais and were soon in gravel surrounded by forest. After the first climb, which I pushed for half of, the course was rolling hills, slowly working our way up the granite. The rain fluctuated in intensity, never a hard downpour, and as I warmed up it kept me at a good temp. I was having fun! I was nowhere near the lead, but I wasn't the last, and I wasn't struggling as I'd feared I would.

Riding through the forest I was identifying as many plants as I knew- lupines, marsh marigolds, various sedges. Nearing Brazell Blvd the scream of a logging operation churned through the forest, but for the most part the course was quiet. The soaked trails were mostly firm, and I giggled at the consistent "skunk stripes" of mud adorning the backs of riders as they passed me. I wrangled my second water bottle from my jersey, which was under my raincoat, took a couple sips and tried to get it back into my jersey pocket. It was in vain. My layers conspired against me, with my jersey pocket hiding under a raincoat and over a long-sleeved hoodie. Trying and trying again. If anyone behind me was watching I'm sure my attempts provided a good bit of amusement for longer than was reasonable. Eventually I gave up and just held on to my bottle. Rookie mistakes, but that's how you learn.

I walked part of the final climb before the aid station, not sure how much further I had to go and how much I needed to keep in reserve for the ride home, and for being Momma for the rest of the weekend. I'd finished both of my water bottles of Embark hydration- I'd mixed about 1/3 pouch of the elderberry in each bottle. At the aid station I refilled my water, mixed up more Embark Hydration, and stashed my rain coat on my bike. The Bonesaw Collective crew rolled in rocking Boyz 2 Men. I took a few pulls from my Embark Coffee Maple Energy and hit the trail.

On the way back to the intersection of Cascade River and Bally Creek I was very grateful for the portapotty located there. The Bonesaw crew passed me after my pitstop, and I was again rolling at my own pace, enjoying the woods. There is a moss in the north woods that fascinates me- it hangs from pine boughs and looks like little green ghosts. The differences between this forest and my woods at home kept my senses fully engaged. Yellow birch waving, the sweet green smell of poplar and the freshness of pine, a small patch of snow, and in three quick black and orange flits across the trail, a trio of American Redstarts.

The ride back into town was far easier than the ride out- I didn't realize how much climbing I'd done! I picked up speed on the final few downhills, and by the time I was back on pavement my mud-splattered face was stretched with a gritty grin. I'd made it! My knee didn't have the bad hurt, my body didn't fail me, I wasn't left behind in the dust. Having an "accessible" ride made all the difference for me. It got me back on my bike. It proved to me that despite everything that has changed in the past year I can still hop on my bike and go. A huge thanks to Jeremy and Avessa for putting on this Minnesota gravel race, for making a route that was both challenging and accomplishable, and for being the big motivator for getting Momma back on her bike.