Why Chewy?

Chewy…how did I get the nickname Chewy??

Actually, it was a name that was given to me by my husband after our first date. What the heck sort of date was I on?? A 125 mile bike ride date.

Gregory and I had met months before through friends of friends in the Chicago Triathlon Club. Gregory lived in Boulder at the time, and I was training for my first Ironman (without a clue, coach or common sense might I add). I had baited Gregory into flying out to do the Horribly Hilly Hundreds with me in Wisconsin….I really didn’t think he would fly all the way to Chicago when I asked, but never assume anything with this man!! Gregory flew to Chicago, rented a car and we motored on up to Madison.

The next day, our “epic” journey would begin..and I had no clue that Gregory’s “out of shape” meant that he had not climbed any mountains within the past few months! Gregory climbed the hills like they were little anthills…and I found myself struggling. Then the fun began at mile 20, 30, and 40; 3 flats!! Which Gregory helped repair two of and on the third, he was ahead, thought I had taken a wrong turn and went to the next aid/stop….I took too long so he continued his “fun ride” through the petite mounds of dirt and I patched the tire with the help of another friend and had the tire replaced at the next stop. At that point in time, I think I was the last rider out there!!...I think I passed 2 or 3 others though.

The day was hot and windy…I was dying a miserable, slow death. I had no clue of “nutrition” so I was happy with coke and chips….and when I hit mile 90, with 10 miles until the final aid stop b4 heading back to camp, I was seeing spots and had committed to giving up and taking a SAG ride back…that was until I got to the final aid stop….And there was Gregory, might knight in shining armor! He hugged me, told me had a “horrible” ride and had been resting for the past 2 hrs (I assumed he would be back at the car cursing his “slow” date) because of cramps/fatigue and utter despair of missing me! He then proceeded to bait me into riding the final 25 miles with him…and I am a sucker for good looking men and a French accent.

So the journey continues and the rain begins, I am tired as hell and Gregory is pushing me along. Somewhere between 110 miles and 110.5 miles my contact became lodged in the corner of my eye from the pelting rain and I decided to bitch and moan and complain…of course it is obvious now, I was bonking, but I didn’t realize it at the time. So Gregory gently suggested that I “eat something”…within .0000005 seconds of his comment I reply in some sick sort of growling, yelping, scream “nnnoooooooooooo, I am not HUNGRY!!”….Gregory compares the sound to that of Chewbacca from Star Wars; hence the nickname “Chewy.” Then, at mile 111, I ask to pull over so I can eat something.

We finished the day with a bond…shall you say love at first bike ride? And then, two months later, Gregory admitted that the reason he was waiting at the last aid stop is because the volunteers had a TV (it was at one of the volunteers houses) on the deck and a soccer game from the World Cup had just started so he decided to watch it and wait for me….he didn’t have the guts to tell me what he had been doing when he saw what bad shape I was in!

So there you have it, my nickname, and what I refer to myself when I am hungry!