Maternity Leave (31 page)

Equally ridiculous is comparing cycling to chess and marathons. While there is a mental element to cycling, as in chess, it’s not rocket science. Further, to the extent cycling is like chess, it’s like playing chess with a phone-a-friend to Bobby Fischer. Cyclists wear earpieces and microphones, like the Secret Service, to talk to their teammates and
director sportif
. When an opportunity for thinking arises, a cyclist can punt their concern to their team. As a result, a stupid or uneducated person will fare much better in cycling than in chess. Recently, there’s been a movement to ban race radios to make the races more exciting. Some pro tour races have even already started the ban. The riders and
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are strongly resisting this, even boycotting races, arguing first, that it’s dangerous because race radios alert racers to perils in the road thereby preventing crashes. Second, it’s unfair, as a cyclist who punctures needs a radio to request a speedy wheel change. And third, it’s unnecessary, as race radios do not make the sport dull. Surprisingly, no one is arguing the obvious: that cycling is a team sport and as such, the racers deserve a coach. I’m sure basketball would be more exciting if a coach couldn’t call a time-out when their players are choking; football more entertaining if the coach couldn’t call a play; baseball if the runner had to figure out for himself whether it was safe to run to home plate. Why even have a coach if he or she is not allowed to coach on game day?

As for a marathon: you can suck and still race a marathon. It may take you seven hours, but you can finish. If you suck in a cycling race, you’re off the back of the pack in five seconds and a race official pulls you from the course. There are no medals for participation or pats on the back for trying, only humiliation. While both marathons and cycling involve speed and endurance, a marathon lasts from two hours to seven hours, depending on your speed. A cycling road race is almost always over one hundred miles for men and seventy miles for women and takes between three and five hours. A stage race lasts one to three weeks of this schedule. With all due respect to marathoning, cycling is in a league of its own, though I think Kenyans could cross over quite smoothly.

The Tour of Colorado was my first race with teammates and a team strategy. Granted, the team was newly formed and didn’t have the camaraderie of a full season together, but they were still pretty close. Most of the women knew one another before the formation of Sunshine Cycling, some even raced together on composite teams occasionally throughout the years. All of the women were excited to be a part of the inaugural Tour de West. Their attitude toward me was very welcoming, but I could tell that my presence was slightly unnerving to some. I think I served as a reminder that their spot on the roster could be replaced at any moment.

Because our team was considerably weaker than the established professional teams, our tactics were somewhat lax. The plan was for everybody to do her best, but for nobody to waste energy doing the work of the big teams such as setting the tempo, chasing breakaways, or making any other sacrifices involving time in the wind other than to get water bottles from the team car.

Florida is humid and at sea level. Colorado is dry and at altitude. The Tour of Colorado was my first time at altitude since first grade. I didn’t recall any ill effects from altitude as a six-year-old, but this time I was out of luck. In addition to a headache and nausea, I felt like I was breathing through a straw for the first three days of the race. My health improved for days four, five and six, but I was still unable to do anything impressive. My position on the team was definitely in jeopardy with the Tour de West a week away.

After the last stage of the Tour of Colorado, I met with Erica. As I suspected, the news wasn’t good. Apparently, while I showed a lot of promise for such a new rider, Sunshine Cycling preferred to go with someone more experienced and consistent for the big race.

“Who are you taking?” I asked.

“Janice Barnes.”

I knew of Janice, though I had never met her. She rode with Sunshine Cycling in Pennsylvania and Vermont, but rode as an individual in Colorado. I finished ahead of her in every stage of the Tour of Vermont and beat her handily in the Tour of Pennsylvania on all of the stages except the three where I placed dead last. Her results were decent, but not exceptional. Not that I’d been exceptional, but she was no doubt getting the nod because she’d been around for ten years and was much more experienced and consistent than I. I had nothing against Janice, but the bitch was in my way and I’d come too far and risked too much not to go down swinging. “Come on,” I said, “I’m better than Janice. I just had some altitude sickness. By next week, my time in the altitude will have made me stronger.”

“I’m sorry, Jenna. I told Janice after the Tour of Vermont that I’d take her unless you did something special in Colorado. I can’t justify taking someone with two months of professional experience over someone with ten years, even if you do have more potential.”

“I come with a free massage therapist,” I said, improvising.

“What do you mean?”

“My friend offered to act as massage therapist for the entire team for three weeks,” I lied.

“Are you sure? We don’t have the budget to pay a massage therapist,” Erica said.

“Yes I’m sure. He’s really excited.”

“Well, if this is true then I’ll tell Janice you come with a perk. You’re in.”

“Thanks Erica,” I said, then ran out before she changed her mind.

On the drive back to my campsite, I called Danny.

“Well?” he said.

“Well I sucked in Colorado, but I’m on the team for the Tour de West. I’m going to the Tour de West!”

“Congratulations! That’s great! Anything you need?”

“Funny you should ask. I have a little JRA for you.”

“Name it,” Danny said.

“You have to come west and be the massage therapist for the team.”

“Sure, sounds fun. I love working stage races. What are they offering?”

“Well, nothing. You were kind of my bargaining chip to get into the race. Erica rejected me, then I told her I came with a free massage therapist, and voila, I was back on the roster. I’m really sorry. I’ll pay your transportation and for every massage.”

“I would give you massages for free since this is huge, but seven other girls on a daily basis is crazy.”

“Actually, it’s eight other girls. It’s a full nine riders at the Tour de West.”

“Okay, so I have to cancel my clients for a month, fly to California, follow a race in a car for six hours each day then do nine massages each evening…for free.”

“I thought you liked being the team massage therapist at pro races,” I said plaintively.

“I do, when I get paid,” Danny responded.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay you. Unfortunately, I’m entering the four weeks of maternity leave where I don’t earn any money, but I’ll pay you back. I promise. Name your price.”

Danny started calculating the tab out loud. “Let’s see, nine massages a day for twenty three days at seventy per massage, plus a four hundred dollar plane ticket. That’s going to cost you about fifteen grand.”

“Yeah, right. What do you usually charge?”

“A thousand bucks a week plus travel costs. It would be about thirty-five hundred or so.”

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll give you five grand,” I said. “Thanks so much. Really, this is a dream come true and I couldn’t do it without you.” That rate was actually more than fair, which absolved my guilt. He rarely made half that over three weeks in Tampa and he loves working stage races.

“No problem. It’ll be fun.”

“Thanks again.”

My celebration over this little coup was interrupted by a call from John. “Come get this dog before I kill it,” he threatened.

Oh no, Sonny again. The potential hostage was putting my entire plan in jeopardy.

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s howling, digging, and humping, and Mom and Dad are putting a ton of pressure on us to give him back to them. If we leave the doggy door open at night, he goes outside and howls. If we shut the doggy door, our dogs pee in the house.”

“Then potty train your dogs,” I suggested.

“They are potty trained, when the doggy door is open. Don’t you have another friend who can watch him for the next month?”

“I’ll get back to you, but hold onto him until I get back to you,” I said frantically searching my mind for a solution. “I’ll figure something out.”

I hung up and called Danny again, completely abandoning my plan to not take advantage of him. “Hey, Jenna again. How would you like to drive to California?”

“Drive? You’re joking. Why would I do that?”

“Well, the Sonny issue has resurfaced.” I explained the problem. “I was hoping you could drive him here.”

“That’s like a sixty hour drive,” Danny pointed out.

“Try going via Vermont to Colorado.”

“What are you going to do with Sonny while you race?”

“He can sit in the car with Erica,” I said, trying to convince myself that that would be okay.

“Does Erica know that?”

“Not yet. We’ll figure that out later. I’ll put him in a muzzle and a straightjacket for three weeks if I have to. It’s better than ‘the farm’ and I’m not missing this race.”

“Okay, I’ll call you back in a little bit. I need to grab a dog and drive across the country right now.”

I was now sure that Danny was in love with me. “Thanks! I’ll rent you a car. Then you can return it here, use my car during the race, and we can drive back together.”

“You mean I drive back while you sleep in the passenger’s seat?”

“Pretty much,” I replied, acknowledging how well Danny knew me by now. It’s times like these that I am frustrated at myself for not being interested in Danny.

“I’ll see you soon,” Danny said.

“Call me from the road if you get bored.”

“Oh, you’ll get a call,” Danny said, “You better start saving material to entertain me with during this drive.”

“Will do, but don’t be afraid to grab a few CDs, maybe an audio book or two.”

I called both of my parents on the drive from Colorado to California. Dad first.

“Hey Dad, still mad at me?”

“I’m not mad,” he said flatly. “I’m concerned and I’m not going to stop being concerned until you’re in Tampa and the statute of limitations runs on your fraudulent insurance claim.” He was getting mad now.

“It’s not that bad. I’m on a team now and I’m staying with them instead of by myself. I’m being careful on the bike and no one at my office has a clue. I won’t be arrested.” I don’t think he wanted to hear about my issue with Sarah and her crazy son that I might have to marry in order to keep my secret.

“Will you just do me a favor?” he asked.

“Depends. I’m going to race,” I said.

“Wear a motorcycle helmet.”

“I’ll wear a cycling helmet,” I responded, marveling at his request.

“A motorcycle helmet protects your face. I’d rather you were in one of those.”

“A motorcycle helmet weighs four pounds and has no ventilation. My cycling helmet is just over a half of a pound and has twenty vents. My neck won’t be able to support a motorcycle helmet for one hundred and fifty hours of riding and even if it could, I’d pass out from heat. There’s no way.”

“What about a mouth guard?” he suggested.

“Nope. Won’t be able to breathe.”

“I have a client who designs helmets for sports. He made a wrestling helmet for some guy so he could wrestle with a broken jaw. Same for basketball. What if I have him make you one?”

“I don’t think that’ll work. I need to wear my sunglasses. If I don’t, I could get a bug in my eye and crash. If you want to make a cycling helmet and face mask that is lightweight, ventilated, and allows me to breathe and wear glasses go for it, but I doubt it will be wearable. Even if it is, it won’t be ready within four days. What else is new?” I asked, trying to change the topic.

“Nothing much,” Dad said. “We can take Sonny back if you want. We won’t give him away. Though I’d rather John and Julie keep him so that I can continue to sleep at night. It’s impossible with that dog, he hogs the entire bed and cries all night if you don’t let him on the bed.”

Shit, I thought. That would have been good to know yesterday before Sonny was half way through Texas. “Yeah, he’s a good little snuggler,” I said. “Thanks, but don’t worry, a friend is watching him. I love you Dad.”

“I love you, too, Jenna.”

I called Mom next. “Hi Mom.”

“Hey, did you make up with Dad yet?” she said in a concerned voice, clearly forgetting that we had a rift as well.

“Yes, I’m working on you now,” I offered.

“Really? Are you sure you’re not lying about that?” Mom said sarcastically.

I chuckled. “Sorry. I was just trying to get you to stop worrying. I didn’t mean to be a liar.”

“You have a ways to go before I stop worrying.”

“Relax. I’ll be fine.”

“It makes me more nervous when you say that.” Mom says that every time I tell her to “relax.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I’ll be fine though. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Be careful,” she said.

I got off the phone just as Danny was buzzing in. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Hey, yourself. How are you doing?” Danny asked.

“Good,” I said without much conviction. “Are you still in Texas?”

“Yeah. It’s a long-ass state. How are your parents?”

“Putty in my hands, just like everyone,” I replied.

“You really do have a gift.”

“How’s Sonny?” I asked.

“Lazy. He hasn’t had his eyes open the entire trip except for the ten minutes he licked his ass.”

“That’s not good,” I said. “He’ll be ready to play when you’re ready to sleep.”

“Looking forward to it. I think I’m going to pull off the road and sleep now. I should get to California in two days or so.”

“Bye Danny. See you then if I don’t talk to you before.”

* * *

I arrived in San Diego three days before the Tour de West. I was looking forward to staying in a hotel instead of camping, but it was not to be. Team Sunshine Cycling was on a tight budget and would rely on host housing throughout the entire Tour. Essentially, every day of the race would take us to a new city and in each of these cities, we would stay at the house of a stranger who had graciously offered their home to a team of nine women, as well as their eighteen bikes, coach, massage therapist, and mechanic.