Twenty-five years of April 12ths have taught me one thing: this date has a complicated relationship with weather. Rain in 2003 didn't stop me from lacing up waterproof boots, and sunny skies in 2008 delivered an epic ride in Missoula complete with a punctured tire and Stan's sealant heroics. Last year's storm clouds caught me mid-ride, turning O'l Hendrix from upright to sideways in one bad decision.
But the weather isn't the only recurring theme. There's the perpetual feeling of being behind, like that Friday in 2002 when I was drowning in post-move chaos. The pattern of pushing through anyway shows up in the 2011 race where toffee-covered peanuts at midnight led to pre-race stomach revolt, yet somehow I ended up leading the pack. Quick workouts in 2012, weight goals missed by 2.2 pounds in 2013, childhood memories revisited in 2020, and dozing at my desk in 2024 all show this tension between ambition and reality.
What strikes me most is how April 12th keeps delivering these moments where I'm chasing something, whether it's deadlines, fitness goals, or storm-free trail time. Some days I catch what I'm after. Other days I end up horizontal on a rocky trail, checking my pride for damage. Both outcomes seem worth the effort.