Stats so far

Miles: 490 mi
Climbing: 11,119 ft
Time in the Saddle: 35h 5m
Bottles of carbohydrate drink consumed: near infinite

John’s Rest Day.

They say some heroes wear capes, but mine wears a patient smile and drove to five different stores just to find the exact things I needed to heal. Steve was truly my knight in shining armor this weekend. When you’re at your lowest, having your person stand by you—steady, kind, and ready to rescue—is a gift that feels like a warm, heavy quilt for the soul. He is my superhero, plain and simple.
After a long, deep sleep on Friday, I woke up feeling just strong enough to embrace the slow pace of recovery. My heart’s only requests were simple: nourishment, hydration, and the permission to drift back into dreams.
We began the morning with a breakfast date that felt like a gentle start to the world. We met with our dear friend Eileen, a wonderful bridge between Steve’s old work life and my time at the salon in DC. The brunch was delicious, but the real sweetness was the way Eileen and Steve looked out for me. With soft voices and “gentle guidance,” they steered me toward a meal that would be kind to my stomach. It’s a special kind of love when people care enough to help you make the smallest, healthiest choices.
Naturally, the morning’s excitement called for a quiet hour-long nap immediately after.
Once I was rested, we moved from one circle of warmth to the next: lunch with my longtime friend Marianne and her beau (another Steve!). There is something so healing about “old” friends. Marianne started reminiscing about the time I crashed at her place before my ride across the country back in 1998. Looking back at where we’ve been makes where we are feel so much more grounded.
If you’re noticing a trend, you’re right—I went straight back to the hotel for another hour of restorative sleep.
The evening brought one more beautiful connection. Steve and I met up with my buddy Eli for a quiet meal. I’ve realized that catching up with the people you love, even when you aren’t at 100%, is such a profound blessing. The kindness of friends is a medicine all its own, and those “healing hugs” were exactly what my body and spirit were craving.
Having my hero, Steve, by my side through every nap and every meal made the day feel less like “being sick” and more like “being cherished.”
As the sun sets on this quiet day, I’m sending a wish out into the universe for a strong tomorrow. With any luck, I’ll be back on the bike with my cousin, right where I belong—feeling the wind and the gratitude for a body that knows how to mend.

Jeff’s Rest Day

By definition, a rest day is supposed to involve actual resting—feet up, brain off, maybe only exerting myself enough to lift a fork. Naturally, my overcaffeinated, ADHD‑flavored brain took one look at that plan and said, “Absolutely not.” So instead of lounging like a sensible human, I spent the day shuffling around town in the least efficient manner possible, bouncing between stores for “supplies,” which definitely included ingredients for Pi Day pie because math is important.

When I wasn’t wandering aimlessly, I parked myself in the most glorious bike shop known to mankind and almost certainly talked so much that the poor customer service guy briefly reconsidered his life choices. Still, I managed to do a few things right: I kept the pace slow, knocked out laundry and bike maintenance, and pretended that counted as self‑care. Now all that’s left is to get a good night’s sleep—assuming my brain doesn’t come up with twelve new errands on the way to the pillow.