Love is a Battlefield

I am always drawn to corny humor. I can’t help it, just cracks me up. If you pass a woman in the greeting card aisle and she is laughing out loud or even crying from laughter, well, chances are it’s me trying to collect myself from the play on words created by these card writers!

This weekend however, I was not laughing. I was yet again thrown into the trenches of another hard bike ride with my husband.

The battle on the road took place in an actual battlefield. The loop is short and challenging enough to hurt depending on how hard one decides to ride it. If you have read my previous post Livestrong, Baby, then you know that my husband does not ride “easy”. I was in for a hard ride and encouraging the battle from within to come straight to the forefront to challenge me to finish and finish strong. I say this was a fight from within, because this past week, I rode the bike quite a bit and my skating training was extremely hard making me tired and my legs heavy.

We arrived early and were quickly reminded to watch for deer. Because this is a National Park and sees much activity on a daily basis, wildlife is very nonchalant about one’s presence. We interrupted breakfast for the doe above and you could almost hear her go “Hmpf” as she trotted off.

At our starting point we ran into an old skating friend who was riding with a couple of buddies. It was nice to see him and hope to see him back on the ice sometime soon.

We settled into our ride and the chill of the cool morning air gave me goose bumps. The first crest is not steep, but I found myself struggling to try to keep up and soon got dropped like a hot potato. My muscles were screaming at me. The battle had begun.

The song “Love is a Battlefield” sung by Pat Benatar, written by Mike Chapman & Holly Knight started playing in my head:

“We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
No promises, no demands
Love is a battlefield
We are strong, no one can tell us were wrong
Searchin’ our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
Love is a battlefield

You’re beggin’ me to go, you’re makin’ me stay
Why do you hurt me so bad?
It would help me to know
Do I stand in your way, or am I the best thing you’ve had?
Believe me, believe me, I can’t tell you why
But I’m trapped by your love, and I’m chained to your side

We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
No promises, no demands
Love is a battlefield

We are strong, no one can tell us were wrong
Searchin’ our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
Love is a battlefield…”

This song kept my mind off the pain in my legs that seared with every single incline. It made me think of the young soldiers that walked these very grounds preparing to battle for what they believed to be true and right and the love of their country. Even through the pain, they pushed and kept going until ultimately defeating the British and German Army. The Battle of Saratoga was the turning point of our country’s Revolution.

What would be my turning point?

I would not have that answer until our second trip around. I made it through all the hills, being dropped and then fighting my way back to my husband’s wheel. We got back to our car and rested for a minute. The sun had now burned off the morning fog and it was warming up quickly. We started our second loop and this time I felt more relaxed. My muscles were warmer and they were not revolting as they had an hour ago. Then we saw it. Our carrot was about 300 yards ahead of us on the path and my husband turned to me and said “OK, let’s go get him!” and before I knew it, we were a train of two working to catch the cyclist ahead. It didn’t take long, but before I could think about it, we were climbing the first incline and I made it ¾ of the way up pasted on the wheel in front of me. I fell off a little and when I made the crest of the hill, looked back and saw that the rider we just passed was now working to catch us! We came to a great decent and I tucked and flew. We made it through the first turn about and on the climb back I saw him just finishing his decent. From that point on I just thought “Turn over. Turn over these legs!”

I then noticed others working through their own battles: a couple of runners with bottles and GU on their hip packs- training for their next marathon. A few dog walkers, one in particular had a shiny metal prosthetic leg, which my first time around I hadn’t noticed at all. Then we came upon a guy named Larry. He was dressed head to toe in wartime garb and was kind enough to let us take his picture. He was making his way up to the battle camp that was set up for the day just past the knoll behind us.

We said so long to Larry and as we pulled away, another cyclist in a yellow shirt passed and said “nice day, huh?” not waiting or wanting an answer as he was just stating the facts. We rode for a few minutes, always keeping the yellow jersey in sight. About 3 minutes ahead of us is a snotty hill and my husband was literally twitching to go after the rider ahead. I finally caught up enough to say “go catch him- just wait for me at the top of the hill” and I swear time moved in fast- forward. My husband took off like a rabid dog and was gone in 2 blinks of an eye.

Here is where my turning point came. I was feeling better on this trip around, but obviously, not as good as the Tasmanian Devil that just took off. I passed a sign that said One Way. Yup. I have one way in and one way out. Up the hill I went and came to the next sign -The Great Redoubt. Do I doubt that I can finish this ride strong? Yeah, maybe a little bit. That hill hurt, according to my legs and I have a long slow climb before I’m done for the day. My husband was just coming up from the roundabout and said “You did awesome on that hill!” That is all I needed to hear to take that little bit of doubt that started to creep in and wipe it clear from thought. All I could say was “I love you!” We both smiled and I tapped the side of my helmet. When asked why I was doing that I said “I just got the title for my next blog post.”

I know, corny! But like I said, I can’t help it!