“That’s exactly what happened when Dave started talking to me!” Lindsay says excitedly. But I’m just staring at the number, wondering why he wants to ride with me.
“I’m going to text him for you,” Jen announces, making a grab for my backpack, to get to my phone.
“What? Why?” I say, my head snapping around so I can glare at her. She smiles at me.
“Because he likes you, duh,” Jen says, as though I’m the crazy one in this conversation, and she begins rummaging for my phone.
“But do you like him?” Lindsay asks me, innocently enough, though it still makes Jen glare at her. Lindsay’s shoulders slump nervously, but she doesn’t look away. She has gotten a lot less shy!
“I really, really don’t,” I say honestly. “He was a little too full of himself, and who keeps their hair that nice under their helmet?” I glance at Jen. “Well, present company excluded.” (Honestly, he seems fine. But that doesn’t mean I’m attracted to him or want to date him, so why tell Jen that he seems okay?)
“But it’d be good practice,” Jen says, almost in a whine. Why is she whining about my life? “I’m just going to send him your number!” And she sends the text. It was done.
“Not. Interested,” I grind out, suddenly completely exhausted by everything going on. “Can we talk about anything else?”
“The competition is coming up,” says Lindsay, giving me a sympathetic look. “Are you guys nervous?”
That does the trick, because it means Jen instantly has to talk about how not-nervous she is. Even though we know better.
CHAPTER 4
By the time we get home, I’m wiped out from the riding (or maybe it’s from so much talking), and Lindsay looks like she is too. Phoebe picks up on it as we walk into the house, heads drooping, and thankfully she mentions that she’s going to hit the back deck to do some visualization work to “absorb today’s ride.” She asks if we want to join her, “Quietly, with a capital Q.”
We all nod and grab yoga mats that she packed for the visit. We spread out on the grass and enjoy the sounds of the woods settling, birds chirping, and breeze blowing. The wind chimes are going with the flow, tinkling a bit, not slamming around together. Penguin is even settled in next to Phoebe like he’s in a deep state of meditation after a day playing in the backyard.
It’s so restful that I almost fall asleep before doing any actual visualizing, but I bring my focus back and start to run through a perfect ride, and how it feels—my hands on the handlebars, the way the ground vibrates under the bike, and how my feet feel planted on the pedals. Leaning with the bike to carve into corners without braking. I get so into it that I don’t even notice that everyone else has headed in for dinner, until Phoebe taps me on the shoulder.
“Feeling better?” she asks. I grin because I really, really am.
“I’ve got this. And I’m hungry,” I say, popping up.
Dad grilled chicken tonight, and by the time I get inside, my mouth is watering. And luckily, he’s wised up and started telling the girls first that dinner is ready, before my brothers trample upstairs and take half the food meant for the seven of us (eight if you count Penguin, who’s under the table begging for scraps). It’s a crowded, loud dinner table by the time everyone is sitting, and it feels nice to not be outnumbered by boys for the first time in a long time in this house. Dad is smiling, just sitting back and watching Phoebe and Steven discussing a downhill run very seriously with Lindsay. Meanwhile Leo, Jen, and I talk about the plan for tomorrow—some fitness-based testing, which I’m dreading but Jen is thrilled for.
She can’t stop asking Leo questions, but he seems to enjoy it. “We’ll be looking at your power and some baseline numbers for you girls—it’s good to have a baseline so we can see your improvements.”
“So, you can compare us to other girls our age?” she asks innocently. But I can see her competitive juices flowing.
He seems a little caught off guard. “I guess we can—” he starts to say.
Phoebe interrupts him quickly. “But that’s not really the point.”
“Hmm…,” is all Jen says in response before digging back into her dinner. Clearly she wants numbers and she wants them now, but after working with Phoebe for the last few weeks, we all know “not the point” means “Jen, knock it off.” Well, Lindsay and I know that. I’m not positive Jen has completely learned her lesson.
Of course, while Jen is smart enough to stay quiet, Leo can’t let it go.
“That’s a good question. Phoebe, what kind of numbers do you think would show if Ali has actual potential?” he asks, eyes lit up.
“Your sister has plenty of potential,” Dad says in his mild-mannered way, but Leo barrels on.
“Because I think she needs to work on her high-end power. That’s my take on it,” he says to Phoebe. “When I was her age, my sprint was a solid fourteen hundred watts, and she needs at least eight hundred right now if she’s going to have any chance at all.”
“Ummm…” Phoebe seems at a loss for words. I don’t know if it’s because she isn’t really sure what the numbers he’s talking about mean, or if she’s offended for me.
I’m not surprised by what he said, because I’m used to Leo’s critical attitude. “My numbers are none of your business, Leo,” I tell him as calmly as I can, though my blood is starting to boil.
He opens his mouth to say something else, but thankfully, Phoebe gets there first.
“We’re not planning on telling any of you the numbers, period,” she says, glaring a little at Leo. “It’s not a competition. It’s only information so we can see how you improve by retesting every few months, and it’s important to have this baseline. That’s it. No big deal, nothing on the line. Anyway, we’ll hit the testing facility tomorrow at ten,” she says.
“So no staying up late tonight,” my dad adds.
We all nod, though it’s not like any of us really need to be told to go to bed early. I’m glad to have an excuse to get away from Leo.
We climb up to the loft way before bedtime, but for a good reason. Lindsay really wants to watch coverage of a BMX showcase that happened over the weekend, and I pull up the footage on my computer. For the next ninety minutes, the three of us are completely captivated by the awesome jumps and tricks that the women (and men) are doing.
“Next time we’re on BMX bikes, I’m going to learn that move,” Lindsay says, pointing to a rider who’s spinning his front wheel and handlebars around in midair.
“You may need to get a little more air first,” I say, and Lindsay hits me with a pillow.
“My superpowers will kick in any day now, and then you’ll be sorry,” she says. I think she’s kidding, but with Lindsay, you never know for sure.
When the show is over, Jen immediately declares that it’s bedtime. So as soon as we’re done in the bathroom, we tuck ourselves in. Jen pushes her satin eye mask and her earplugs into place and rolls over to face the wall. It’s impressive how committed she is to getting eight hours before a big day. Normally at sleepovers, she wants to stay up and chat, and Lindsay and I are the ones pushing for sleep and silence. But maybe since we have so much time together, she doesn’t feel like she needs to cram a ton of talking into a single night.
I finally close my eyes too and immediately start dreaming about bikes. In my mind, I’m flowing down the mountain at a speed that I’ve never hit in real life, swooshing around corners and kicking up little dirt clouds as I shred my way toward the bottom. The finish line—because of course there’s a finish line—is in sight, and there’s only one girl in my way. Judging by the pristine outfit and the perfectly braided blond hair, it’s Jen.
And just as I’m starting to close the gap on her, the chain on my bike is gone. It doesn’t break; it vanishes, and when I try to pedal, nothing happens. I slam on the brakes, come to a stop…and watch as Jen crosses the line, blowi
ng kisses and waving to the crowd. As I’m standing there, shouting for help, no one can hear me.
I wake up, sitting bolt upright. That was a weird one.
Lindsay is softly snoring in her bed, and Jen is silent. It takes me a while to calm my breathing. I end up using some of that visualization technique Phoebe’s been teaching us, and picture myself getting the win instead of getting left behind. But it’s not easy to do, and every time I come across the line, I get the sense that Jen is already there ahead of me.
TRAINING LOG
TODAY’S WORKOUT: VO2 Max Test—but don’t panic. It’s not a real test that you can pass or fail. This gives us an idea of what your current aerobic capacity is by measuring how well you use oxygen. It sounds really intense, but it’s just riding a bike while wearing a mask to monitor different stats. We’ll do a short warm-up, and then the test itself is under 20 minutes of semi-hard pedaling, but it’s nothing you can’t handle…and the nice thing is that there’s nothing special you need to do! This is all information for way down the road in your cycling career, and we’ll retest every few months. XO, Phoebe
YOUR NOTES: Sure, I know this test isn’t supposed to seem like a big deal, but any time you put the word “test” into anything, it gets scary, no matter what. So yes, I’m a little nervous this morning, like knowing I have a quiz at school—even one that I’ve studied for. It’s not as scary as an actual race, but I know Jen is going to be trying to win (even though I know there isn’t really any winning in this test), and I know that Lindsay has been studying all these cycling handbooks for the last couple of weeks like there’s going to be a way to win on a test like this by knowing everything there is about how it works. The way Phoebe explained VO2 Max, the test measures how well we use oxygen—the better you use it, the easier it is for you to be more efficient on the bike. That means if you use oxygen better, you ride faster with less effort, basically. But it’s something that you can only kind of train for. A lot of it is genetic, so you’re born with it. (Actually, now that I write that out, Lindsay’s researching has made me feel better. I can’t change my genetics!) The oxygen test helps a coach figure out how to design the best training plan for you, so how bad can it be?
CHAPTER 5
Well, at least I tried to go into it feeling positive. But in the lab, I feel silly. “How is riding this road bike with this ridiculous mask going to make my jumping better?” I complain as I hop onto the bike. Phoebe adjusts the breathing mask over my face. I look ridiculous.
“We look like Bane!” crows Lindsay as she pedals on hers, glasses slipping slightly. Phoebe pushes up the glasses and gently slaps the back of Lindsay’s head.
“You look like tough cyclists doing work,” she says.
“Who’s Bane?” Leo asks.
Phoebe and Lindsay give him scathing looks. “Big, bad guy? Batman?” Phoebe says.
Leo nods, but when Phoebe looks away, he mouths, “I have no idea” over at me and rolls his eyes. Since I don’t really know comic book trivia either, I smile and cross my eyes back at him in agreement. At least sometimes we get along.
Jen seems right at home, which I suppose she is. Riding a normal road bike was how she got started, so it makes sense that this stuff would feel really familiar. But to me, it’s like being on Mars with what appears to be Martian technology. Leo is standing at a scary-looking machine adjusting various buttons, which adds to my Martian tech concerns.
“Just pedal comfortably for now,” he says, directing his commentary toward Jen, who’s already looking like she’s in a race, and Lindsay, who seems to be a little claustrophobic. I admit, this stuff doesn’t faze me in that way. I just feel goofy.
“What are we even trying to do?” I ask, somewhat grumpily. It’s a sunny day out—but I can only see a sliver of light through the window. I know what the test means, but it still seems sort of pointless if I need to go fast down a hill, not pedal a bike up one.
“Like I said, this is just some basic fitness testing,” Phoebe says, more patiently than I probably deserve. “We want to get a baseline for how hard you can go, so we can tailor your training to you. I know that riding in the jump park and going downhill don’t require a ton of pedaling, but trust me, the more you practice, the more efficient you’re going to want to be. This helps us get you there.”
“Maybe they need some music,” Leo says. I nod gratefully. At least with some tunes playing, I won’t be able to hear the sound of my own breath quite so loudly. He immediately starts blaring some loud punk music, and Phoebe gives him a big grin and a thumbs-up. She’s in a really cool punk band, so when it comes to music, she and Leo are in full agreement.
Lindsay definitely gets faster as soon as the music is going. She wasn’t into punk before, she told me, but since she started hanging out with Phoebe, she’s gotten really into it. Though, she mentioned that her parents are less thrilled about this than they were about the bike riding.
I try bopping along to the music, and the beat does seem to help me pedal harder. If I sort of zone out while tuning in—weird feeling, I know—pushing myself past my comfort zone happens almost naturally.
“I want you girls to pedal as hard as you can for a minute when I say ‘go,’ ” Phoebe shouts over the music.
The beat gets even faster.
“GO!” Phoebe yells, and we all start pedaling like crazy. I want to look over and see how Lindsay and Jen are doing, but I don’t want to give up any speed to do it, so I listen to their bikes whirring along as the music keeps pumping. The first ten seconds seem easy, and after that, it’s not easy. My feet start to feel heavy, but I keep trying to spin them faster and faster. I start to fade, but I keep pushing as hard as I can.
“Dig, dig, dig!” Phoebe is shouting, encouraging us. I try to tell myself that it’s only a dumb test, that I can chill out, but this little voice in the back of my head is still shouting at me to pedal harder.
There are only a few seconds left, so I stand up out of the saddle and sprint like my life depends on it, and suddenly the music drops to a reasonable volume, and it’s all over.
“Great job, girls!” Leo says, looking up from the computer screen.
“So, who was fastest?” Jen asks, trying to sound casual.
“Nope, not going to spill,” Phoebe says before Leo can say a word.
“But…,” Jen starts to whine.
“No,” Phoebe says flatly. “You’re not competing with each other like that, and I don’t think this is data that you need anytime soon. It’s just good for us to have for your records for when you’re a few years in, if you want to keep riding.”
Jen does not look happy but clearly realizes that resistance is futile when Phoebe has her mind made up. Me, I’m feeling a little relieved that we don’t have to find out how we stack up against each other, and Lindsay looks like she feels the same. Or she’s simply relieved to have that mask off.
CHAPTER 6
The next morning is blissfully quiet. Thankfully, the girls are still sleeping because of jet lag from their flights, so I have a little quiet time. Not that I mind them being here, but having friends staying in the house is taking more getting used to than I thought. There’s a lot more talking, and they actually want to hang out with me, all the time. It’s a lot to take in.
I sneak downstairs to get some reading done before they wake up. I bet Lindsay will be the first up and join me, and quiet reading together doesn’t sound so bad.
But Jen makes it down first, surprisingly, wrapped in a big fluffy robe that looks cozy but somehow dressed-up at the same time. On the back, in huge glittering letters, it reads “Queen.” I’m worried we won’t have much to talk about, but right behind her is Lindsay in her plaid shorts and T-shirt, carrying a book, and I feel better.
“Is there coffee?” Lindsay asks, before she spots Phoebe, who’s already at the table with a mug and a book, wearing an oversize
d T-shirt and boxer shorts. She arches one eyebrow, and Lindsay mutters, “Okay. Is there any tea?”
I grab the box of tea bags from the shelf and show her where the kettle is, before asking Phoebe what the plan for the day is.
“We’re going to head to the mountain, but we’re not going up the hill today,” Phoebe says, blowing on her coffee. “We’re going to ride the trails down there on big bikes….It won’t be as easy as only going downhill, since we’ll be pedaling more, but I think it’s worth getting out and hitting the trails before we do more runs using the chairlift. It’ll be good to get a better feel for those bikes now that you’ve had a taste of downhill riding. Ali, I know you know the trails pretty well, but Lindsay and Jen haven’t done much riding outside on trails yet.”
“I don’t know the trails that well,” I say quickly. “It’ll be fun to ride them with you guys.” It’s not exactly true that I don’t know the trails, but I’m secretly worried that Jen or Phoebe think I’m going to be amazing, when I’m probably going to be all over the place. So I downplay the years I’ve spent chasing my brothers on the trails, yelling at them to wait for me.
Leo quirks up one eyebrow at me when I say it, but I glare at him, and he stays quiet. I figure at some point, if I feel comfortable, I can start sharing my trail knowledge, but for now I’d rather be one of the girls and see how Phoebe leads us.
After we’ve all had our yogurt with granola and berries—a Phoebe meal, of course, since Dad and my brothers aren’t great at making much beyond cereal when it comes to breakfast foods—we start to get ready to ride. Up in our room, as we get dressed, Lindsay holds up a pair of black bike shorts and asks if either of us have ever worn them before. “Phoebe gave me these this morning and said I’d need them,” she tells us, looking nervous.
Ali's Rocky Ride Page 4