I’m in la-la land.  I must have been a fabulous person in a past life or something because I know I haven’t really done anything to deserve this summer.  WOW.

After a week of traveling around Spain we made it to Caminha, Portugal.  My parents decided to rent a place in Europe where all of us three siblings could spend a month together with our families.  I had visions of a small town, where the children could meet local children and we could be part of the local life.  Through one thing or another we ended up here.

Caminha is gorgeous.  It is located on the banks of the Minho River.  On the other side you can see speckled towns between the mountains but that is no longer Portugal.  The River is what separates this sea faring country from its neighbor Spain.  It is also a time zone meridian … so across the river, they live one hour ahead.

Caminha is everything I wanted in a small town.  It has a town square with coffee shops, a medieval wall with cannons (a favorite hangout for the boys), a beach, and small cobblestone streets.  It is picturesque and perfect.

Downtown

I’ve been planning and thinking about this trip for MONTHS.  From a training point of view it seemed complicated.  This is the year I do the IronMan and with my race being in November I couldn’t just take a month off in July.  So I got on the internet and looked for triathlon groups in Caminha.  I was not very hopeful.

Little did I know what I was in for …. Not only did they have a triathlon training group but this group is hosting a 70.3 mile race called Triatlo Longo de Caminha. SCORE! The only “if” in all of this is that the bike course for this race is all in a mountain range called the Serra d’Arga with high, long, steep climbs. You can see for your self in the map below.  Even the people here, who are used to riding these mountains think it’s a tough course.

I trained what I could on the Computrainer, I did my Under Armour Challenge on Sugar Loaf Mountain, and then  I just had to let my ego go and realize that if I didn’t make it up the 18% incline … then I would just have to walk and that was that.

My main contact Nuno, one of the race organizers, became my guide to all things Caminha.  From the bike shop to an emergency dentist he is my go to guy.  And there is a group of incredibly strong triathletes here, I mean, really really strong guys including Olympic rowers (not the distance, but as in Olympic games: Atlanta & Rio) and several of whom are training for IronMan Cozumel.  The day I arrived in town, I met them for an open water swim in the Minho River.  I was, as always, intimidated but at least swimming is my strongest of the three sports.

My river OWS group

This is a rowing town, and we met by the rowing club to head down the river for our swim.  I put on my wetsuit, which I have used only once before and jumped in.  I began to swim and this incredible feeling of gratitude came over me.  It all seemed surreal … here I was swimming down a river in Portugal with a group of Portuguese triathletes I met ten minutes ago.  Me! Swimming on my vacations.  Me? Me!  Boy have I changed.

New swim training grounds: the Rio Minho

While talking with the guys, they told me they could put my bike back together thus sparing me the trip and the cost of going to a bike store in a bigger city nearby.   We met up the next day, they indeed put Slider back together and told me we would head up bike race course.  I explained, for the millionth time, that I do not have experience climbing and that I would be very slow.  I was assured this was not going to be their training ride, and they were there to show me the course so that I can be more comfortable with it on race day.  The generosity and kindness of this group has been out of this world! So I figured, I better go and get this over with.

This was the moment I’ve been anxious about for months.  This is what I have been training for months … to get up these mountains.

We met up at 8:00am and began our tour.  Even getting out of town was a bit hilly and then I see the sign that says Serra d’Arga.  Serra, Sierra means mountain range in Portuguese.  I was advised there will be two major long climbs the first being a bit more challenging and it was going to start NOW. I was also told to put my bike in the lightest gear, keep it there, and not look up.

I obliged, and was so nervous about the whole thing I just pedaled and when I thought the whole thing was over, when there was a “descanso” (a break), it just started again.  The second climb seemed way more challenging and I began to curse, and zig zag and the bike got heavier and heavier even if I wasn’t changing gears.  This is where you just have to do what you have to do.  It’s the moment when you give up or you grin and bear it.  I pedaled and got up the damned thing.  Except that it’s not really just two climbs.  It’s that there are two super steep climbs and then a bunch of up and downs for about 30 miles.

The climbs were tough and the views spectacular but this is what surprised me the most.  I went with six or seven uber fit men, and no disrespect to the men I know in Miami but these guys were royal cycling gentlemen.  Even if some went ahead, they all were aware this was not a hard ride and respected it.  There was always someone with me, telling me what would be coming up next, when to change gears, etc.  Their interest was to show me the course so that I could have a good and safe race.  The group would wait ahead if I lagged behind, and though I apologized profusely for being so damned slow, no one made me feel like I had to.

I have really been taken back by the graciousness and generosity of all the people I am meeting and it makes me reflect on how I am with others, and there is much room for improvement though that shall be for another post.  All I can say right now, as I get ready to climb the Serra d’Arga once again is that I am one lucky girl.  And even if I don’t quite know what I did to deserve all of this …. I am taking in every moment (even the ones where my quads are screaming) and counting my blessings.