RAGBRAI -- What the hell did I get myself into?

So back in January Brian and his friend Cam decided they wanted to ride RAGBRAI this year. The more Brian talked about it, the more fun it sounded to me. Riding your bike across Iowa, stopping at various food stands, getting tons of exercise. It's a challenge, I grant you that, but it sounded awesome. You camp every night, then get on your bike the next morning and ride again. Now, I'm not really a "camper" per se. My idea of roughing it is a hotel without a pillow-top bed and no cable. But I figured after riding my bike for 72 miles a day, I really wouldn't care a whole lot about where I was sleeping, so long as I was sleeping.

So we signed ourselves up, the three of us, and paid our money. It's a lottery system, so instead of first-come, first-serve, you pay, then they put everyone in a pool of sorts and draw names at random. Back in January when we signed ourselves up, I was so excited and really hoping we would get in. Of course, in January, when the ground was covered in 100 feet of snow, this all seemed like a far-off fantasy that would never come to fruition. When it started to get warmer, I started to get worried that we WOULD be picked. And, of course, we were.

So we were at our friends' son's baptism this past weekend, and there was a guy there who's some kind of USA superhuman bicycle expert/creator of the bicycle/knower of all things cycling guy who WOULDN'T STOP TALKING ABOUT CYCLING or how good he was at cycling or how awesome he was in general. He started saying how this is the second hilliest RAGBRAI course ever, some of the hills are two miles long, etc., etc. We said we were going to start riding our bikes daily, and there were some wicked hills on the bike path we were going to train on, to which he replied, "THOSE AREN'T HILLS." Seriously, he practically yelled it at us, and told us we needed to ride somewhere off the bike path. Okay, whatever.

So then our friend's parents piped up and said they ride RAGBRAI every year and it's super fun, and the mom started telling me all about it. I was getting excited about it until she said, "And in the morning when you wake up, what you need to do is get on your bike and ride to the closest town and go to a bar or something and use the bathroom there. The portapotties at the campgrounds get really busy in the morning, plus people get sick in them all night because they're drinking, so you want to just hold it and go into town to poop."

I was staring at her wondering why she was smiling as she said this to me. She seemed to actually enjoy this process, or at least not mind it a whole lot. Plus, I'm not so much with the poop talk. It's just not something I discuss with other people.

So here's the problem: I have to pee approximately every five minutes.....okay, maybe every 30, but still. Point being, at some point in the night, I'm going to have to get up out of my tent to use these disgusting portapotties that everyone has been getting sick in all night long. This is the conversation that scared me. Not the giant hills, not the crazy bicycle guy who basically inferred that Brian and I were both going to keel over and die because the course was so hard, and we're both so out of shape (which is not true. Brian runs, and I teach yoga/do yoga, lift weights, and do a lot of cardio). Nope, what scared me were the dirty, disgusting portapotties.

I'm seriously considering not going. Of course, if I get pregnant between now and then I won't go anyway and I won't even have to make this decision, it'll be made for me, but I'm not holding my breath on that one. Problem is, I know if I don't go, I'll regret it. It would be such an accomplishment for me to do this, both physically and mentally. If I could get over having to have my hair done every day and my makeup on and looking as perfect as possible before anyone outside my house sees me, that would be a big deal for me. Plus, it would be fun to hang out with Brian and Cam for a week with no electronic distractions and just talk and drink and eat and all that.

The other part of me feels like a third wheel. Cam is in Iraq right now, and he lives in California. He's one of Brian's oldest and closest friends, and since they don't get to see each other often, it would be awesome for them to be able to spend the week together without me tagging along. Of course, Brian wants me there, and I'm sure Cam doesn't mind that I'm going because we get along fine, but still..........

I'm so conflicted.