Ali's Rocky Ride

by Molly Hurford

  Of course, the butterflies are still there for most of the downhill runs. The thing with biking in a place like this is that you never really get comfortable on any of the trails, because as soon as you start learning where each corner, bump, and berm is, that only means that you can hit it faster the next time or take a smoother line. So as our confidence and understanding of the trail grow, speeding to the bottom gets easier and easier even though the course isn’t changing, but we are. I didn’t expect that, but every time we ride, we get a second or two faster…and that bit feels amazing.

  Jen has been a lot easier to deal with. She’s as tired as I am most of the time before and after rides, so there isn’t a lot of energy left for us to argue with each other. And the smoother she gets on corners, the better her mood gets. We haven’t run into Scott again, and I deleted a couple of texts from him before she could see them and respond, so we haven’t even fought about that.

  By the time we’re done riding each day, my muscles are sore and my arms are almost shaking. Luckily, Phoebe is really good at reading the crowd, so she’s always able to pick up on when we’re getting too tired. The couple of times Leo tried to get me to go for one extra run at the end of a long day, she shut him down pretty hard. (Thank goodness, because I was exhausted.)

  “One more run isn’t worth someone getting hurt,” I heard her say to him one afternoon, leaving him staring at her, like he was amazed that someone would stand up to him and challenge his expertise. But she didn’t seem to worry about it, she simply came over and told us to head to the SUV.

  When we get home, Phoebe is all about the recovery meals. Apparently, that’s the key to staying healthy.

  We’re not just training for this one competition, Phoebe and Leo constantly remind us—Phoebe in her mild-mannered, fun way; Leo in his tough “I’m a pro, so listen to me” style. But they both are making the same point. They’re trying to make us stronger cyclists, not just training us for a single race. And since we only have a few more days together, they’ve gotten even tougher about what we do when we’re not on the mountain too.

  So we’re also spending time in the gym that Dad set up in the garage, working with Phoebe on our overall strength. Lindsay loves the weight training, while Jen is less convinced.

  “Why do I need to be able to do push-ups anyway?” Jen keeps asking.

  “Because a strong upper body means more control over the bike and better general fitness,” Phoebe tells her—over and over again.

  “I never had to do this stuff before, and I usually won,” Jen muttered the last time she asked.

  Phoebe gave her a pitying look. “Trust me, you’ll be happy about this in a few years,” she said, and shut down the conversation entirely by turning up the music and moving over to help Lindsay work on her form. Superhero-loving Lindsay is in absolute heaven when we do gym time. Her ability to do twenty push-ups keeps me and Jen trying even harder.

  Leo has us doing some training on the stationary bikes too, though he’s not big on keeping us on them for long periods of time. He says we’ll have plenty of time for stuff like that when we get older if we want, but right now it’s about short and effective training. So we hop on, warm up, and then do really hard, really short intervals where we pedal as fast or as hard as we can. This sounds boring. And it mostly is…except that Phoebe has taken to playing a-catchy “pump-up” playlist or even stationing the bikes in front of a TV showing bike race footage to get us excited.

  Most evenings, Phoebe has us in the backyard for a last, fun-based practice: either she’s running us through silly exercises to strengthen our arms, legs, and cores so we have more control on the bike, or we’re playing goofy games on the pump track. Sometimes we play games of tag; sometimes there are slow races to see who can go the longest without pedaling. (Lindsay has been destroying Jen and me with that one, since we’re both so much less patient than she is.)

  By the time we’re officially done with our training, we usually end up sloth-ing around on our beds up in my room, or—if it’s nice out—on the back porch, while we eat massive peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. (Healthy protein and fat in the peanut butter, and Phoebe has us eating whole wheat bread from the local bakery with a local blackberry jam, so it’s delicious and nutritious!) We’re working hard, but there’s a feeling of excitement in the air, like we’re all starting to realize that maybe we’re part of something really big and amazing.

  Jen also finally convinced us to give each other manicures. Honestly, Lindsay and I grew too tired to resist her bubbling enthusiasm. As a result, Lindsay is currently sporting dark purple nail polish with her ring fingers painted bright yellow as accent nails. (Yes, she chose old-school Batman colors. It’s why we love her.) Mine, after much protesting, are a sparkly blue that I don’t actually hate, and Jen’s are a bright coral color, with her index fingers painted turquoise as her accent nails.

  With Lindsay’s parents staying in an Airbnb rental nearby, they drop by every night for dinner. Meals have gotten a whole lot louder, which is something I didn’t think was possible. But they’ve also gotten a lot more fun, and they taste a lot better now that Lindsay’s parents are both jumping in to lend a hand with the cooking, bringing over Mexican casseroles with rice and beans and shredded chicken, usually swimming in a spicy sauce and topped with crema. The spicy food isn’t what I’m used to at all, but I’m growing to love it.

  We’re going to bed early every night, which I thought I’d complain about, but as soon as the lights are out, we’re all asleep almost immediately.

  But tonight, as I’m starting to drift off, I jerk awake. The race is the day after tomorrow. We’ve been so busy getting ready that I almost forgot that we’d be competing. I’m too tired to really think much about it before drifting into weird dreams of trying to get on a chairlift to go to the start, only to have the lift operator tell me I’m not on the list, and then looking up to see that the lift operator is Jen. It’s a freaky dream.

  TRAINING LOG

  TODAY’S WORKOUT: With the race tomorrow, we’ll do a light ride today to keep you nice and flexible and ready for the big day. We also want to make sure we’re eating enough so that if you’re not super hungry tomorrow, at least you had some good solid meals ahead of the race. You’ve got this. Spend time today visualizing the course, and we’ll watch some videos of last year’s race too so you can get pumped up. You’ve done the hard work. Now it’s time to get excited to use what you’ve learned! XO, Phoebe

  YOUR NOTES: It’s hard to not feel freaked out about the race tomorrow, but like Phoebe says, we’ve already done all the training, and there’s nothing more that we can do other than try to stay calm and relaxed before the big moment. (Easier said than done.)

  CHAPTER 20

  The night before the race, we get pizza. Phoebe says it’s absolutely a perfect pre-race meal, and we all dig in. She swapped my family’s usual choice of soda for kombucha, though, and only got veggie toppings for the pizza. Penguin is wandering between all of us and begging for scraps as we sit in the living room watching race footage from the same downhill runs we’ll be doing tomorrow.

  I thought I would be too nervous to eat, but it turns out, butterflies in your stomach are no match for fried eggplant piled onto delicious pizza. I dribble sauce down my chin, but I don’t even care.

  “Watch this last set of whoops very closely, Ali,” Leo says, nudging me with his foot.

  “Why me?” I say, suddenly defensive.

  “Because you can hit them smoother than you have been and score even more speed,” Leo says.

  “Leo, why are you always picking on me?” I say, firing up instantly.

  “I think Leo is trying to help,” Dad says, trying to defuse the situation.

  “Well, knock it off!” I say. “I don’t need your help right now.”

  Leo is quiet for a minute. I think he has dropped the subject, b
ut he gets up and asks if we can talk in the kitchen, looking so serious that I don’t really have a choice other than to follow him in.

  “What do you want from me?” I snap, leaning on the counter.

  “I just think you can win, all right? I don’t think you’re a bad mountain biker. I think you could be the best,” he says.

  That’s what Phoebe told me he thought, but it sounds different coming from him. “Funny way of showing it,” I say instead. “You’re always picking on my riding.”

  “That’s because if you make these improvements now, you’re going to make it in biking,” he says. “I can tell. You’re so much better than I was at your age.”

  Now I’m stunned. Leo never would admit that normally. “Is Dad paying you to say this? Or Phoebe?” I ask suspiciously. She is an evil genius, after all.

  “No. I’m telling you the truth,” he says.

  “Well…thanks,” I say, completely out of arguments.

  “Think about what I said about the whoops when you’re out there tomorrow, though,” he says, before he walks back to the living room, leaving me standing there and feeling like a bit of an idiot.

  And that isn’t even the end of the drama for the evening. A couple of pieces of pizza later, I’m totally stuffed and ready to slug myself up to bed, but Jen catches me in the hallway.

  “I know we came to kind of an awkward truce these last couple of days,” Jen says very gravely as we head toward the loft.

  Oh good, another serious talk on race night. That’ll be great for my sleep and nerves.

  “Yeah?” I say, inwardly groaning. Couldn’t we have kept our truce awkward and moved on?

  “I wanted to say that I really am sorry I hurt your feelings, and I hope we’re still friends,” she says, looking incredibly serious. I can’t stay mad at her. Or, at least, I can’t stay seriously mad at her.

  “I’m still annoyed with you,” I admit, “but of course we’re friends. Always.” As I say it, I know that deep down it’s true. Lindsay and Jen are the best friends I have ever had, and our differences are part of what makes it so much fun to hang out with them. I mean, sure, Jen could tone it down, and maybe think before she acts or speaks, but I still love her.

  Jen looks like she might have more to say, but I can’t handle a long conversation right now. I just want to get to sleep to be as prepared as possible for the race tomorrow. “We can talk about it later if you want,” I add, “but let’s get to sleep now so we can crush it tomorrow.”

  She looks relieved and sticks out her hand for me to shake. “Friends?” she asks.

  “Friends,” I say, and hug her instead of shaking on it. Lindsay beams at us as we climb the ladder up to the loft. “I knew you two would make up!” she says, looking happier than she has all night.

  “And with that said, good night,” I proclaim, falling into bed. For a minute, I lie there worrying if I’ll be able to sleep, but my eyes start to droop and my brain starts to fog almost immediately, like all the tension has left. Maybe I was more upset with Jen than I wanted to admit, and having this small apology has made a difference.

  TRAINING LOG

  TODAY’S WORKOUT: It’s RACE DAY! I’m sure you’re feeling really nervous, and that’s totally normal. Don’t forget to eat a good breakfast (even if you’re not feeling hungry—that’s just the pre-race jitters talking)! Then find some quiet time to sit and do some visualizations of the downhill run, picturing everything from the chairlift ride up to the speedy ride down. When we get to the race, we’ll spend a little time warming up—not a lot of riding, only enough to warm up your muscles so you’re ready to rock your run. You’ve got this! XO, Phoebe

  YOUR NOTES: It’s race morning. It’s race morning! Lindsay has said that writing in her journal is how she avoids feeling as nervous as she used to (and she gets nervous about everything!), so maybe writing it out will help, like Leo said. I know I was calm at breakfast, but the closer we get to leaving for the mountain, the more my stomach knots up. I wasn’t nervous when we competed at Joyride, but that was because I didn’t know I would have any family or friends there to watch me, until my brothers showed up right before the competition started. This time, I know that my brothers and Dad will be there to watch every second—and to see every mistake. It feels like a lot of pressure, even though I know no one will be mad at me if I don’t win.

  Wish me luck!

  CHAPTER 21

  I can’t believe it’s race day. Lindsay’s parents have already called a bunch of times to check on us, and they’re meeting us over at the mountain. Lindsay has been pacing all morning, definitely hopped up on the coffee she snuck when Phoebe wasn’t looking. She’s never competed in front of her parents before, and I know she thinks that they think she’s not going to do well. (I doubt they think that. But judging from what she’s told us and how she was when we first met, I don’t think they’re used to going to her sporting events.)

  “Calm down,” Jen snarks from the table, where I can see her hand shaking just a little. I know she’s not really mad at Lindsay; she’s trying to hold it together herself.

  I feel pretty calm, personally. I know I should be nervous, but there’s something about being able to wake up at home, with your family, that makes race days a little less stressful. That, and honestly, my emotions already came out yesterday as I talked things out with Leo and with Jen, so I’m maybe a little burned out on being emotional. And as Leo said, if I can stay calm, I’ll do better. The mistakes come when you are scared and nervous, but when you’re in that flow state, it’s fine.

  Phoebe reaches for the box of granola and tub of plain Greek yogurt and pushes it toward Lindsay. “You’re going to want more in your stomach than coffee,” Phoebe says, and Lindsay blushes and instantly moves her hand away from Phoebe’s mug. One day, Lindsay will sneak around Phoebe and get to drink her coffee by the gallon, but apparently that day hasn’t come quite yet.

  “Sorry,” Lindsay mumbles, but stands up to get a bowl and a spoon.

  “Race-day mornings make you do crazy things,” Phoebe responds, smiling—but showing a few more teeth than usual. “But if you steal my coffee again, there will be consequences.”

  “Told you she was a supervillain,” Lindsay whispers as she passes me, and I giggle and scoop up a handful of granola.

  I woke up feeling positive this morning. I’m really excited about today. I know I won’t necessarily win, but the work I’ve been putting in should pay off. Between all of our practice runs and Phoebe’s and Leo’s advice on every single section of the trails, I know I have a chance.

  Leo slams into the house and runs through at warp speed, heading for the basement. “Are you ready to go yet?” he shouts as he runs by. Phoebe looks at me and laughs.

  “Remember when I told you he can be crazy on race days? Looks like he’s getting worse in his old age,” she says, and smirks. Leo rushes back up the steps, thundering like a herd of elephants.

  “It’s only seven a.m.!” he crows. Then it sinks in. “We still have three hours,” he adds, clearly doing the math, dropping weakly down at the counter.

  “Coffee, please?” he says, resting his head between his hands.

  Phoebe slides him a cup, and he looks grateful. “I’m a little stressed,” he admits. He looks paler than normal, and his hair is sticking out in all directions under his baseball cap.

  “A little?” Jen smirks at him from over her cereal bowl.

  “Okay, fine, a lot,” he says as he gets up to grab a bowl for himself, and I can see his hands shaking.

  “You never looked like this when you were racing,” I observe calmly (and a bit smugly).

  “You think that because you never paid attention,” he responds. “I was always a wreck. But yeah, this might be more stressful.”

  “Aww, it’s like you care,” I say sarcastically, but secretly I’m a
little touched. He might be a pain, and he might have been driving me insane these last two weeks with practice tips and stuff, but it’s nice to know that he’s nervous for us.

  He looks like he’s about to say something snotty back, but he also looks a little green, and like he might get sick at any second, so he just buries his face in his bowl of cereal, which is snap-crackle-popping like crazy in front of him.

  We’re all ready in record time, leaving me pacing on the back porch trying to stay on top of my nerves before we have to pile into the SUV. It’s almost too quiet. I can hear rustling in the bushes as squirrels race around, and the sun is already warm on my face. It’s going to feel hot with all the body armor and no shade on the hill later, but right now it’s perfect. The butterflies in my stomach won’t take a break, though.

  “If you keep pacing like that, you’re going to run out of adrenaline before the race even starts,” Leo says, stepping onto the porch and breaking the lovely silence.

  “So, what should I do instead?” I snap. It feels like I am actually vibrating with nerves.

  “Try to get into the zone like you would before you start the race,” Leo says. “Take a few minutes where you’re by yourself and quiet, and take at least ten deep breaths to let everything in your body relax. Focus on getting down that hill, nothing else. Try it now.”

  I let out a huff, but I don’t have anything better to do, so I sit down on the porch swing, take a deep breath, and look at him. “I can’t get into the zone with you staring at me,” I say.

  “I’m not watching you,” Leo says, looking out into our backyard. “But trust me and try to chill for a second. Don’t try to meditate. Just tell me about what the downhill run looks like.”