Checklists

As the checklist gets longer and the race inches closer, there are so many thoughts that cross your mind.  Am I ready? As ready as I’m going to be, and if not, too bad. Did I train enough? Probably not.  What if something goes wrong? Plot twist whaaaaat.  What kind of mental demons will I be facing out there? Serious ones, like Ursula at the end of The Little Mermaid type shit. Flat tire? I’m screwed.  Deep river creatures and runoff pesticide poison?  Bring them on. I should have gotten a that tenuous shot. I may be able to stop and fry an egg on the side walk if I get hungry mid race, it’ll be that hot.  What are the port-a-potties going to be like?  Death by suffocation of smell.  Cycling shorts or tri shorts? Screw that, comfort, so I’m getting naked in that changing tent. What the hell was I thinking?  Too late for that shit, next thought.   I can possibly write 4 pages of everything that is going thru my mind at this point.  My bike gets dropped off to be shipped this week, I start organizing what goes into each of the 47 bags . For those of you that may not know you get 4 bags, one from swim to bike (that has all you change into on the bike), a special needs bag (there’s a station in the bike you will stop for this), one back from bike to run (this has everything you change into for the run), and finally a special needs on the run, a station about half way on the run.  You put pretty much everything you may think you may need, band-aids, pain-killers, a cheeseburger, everyone has their own method of madness out there.  I’m kidding about the cheeseburger…I hope.  I’m hoping TSA doesn’t stop me for drug smuggling from all the pills and powders going into this race.  And I’m sure they’ll wonder why I have so much Vaseline.  Don’t ask sir, don’t ask.

Physically, I’m tired, I’ve been training since February, common’ now.  I took two days off last week, even a Saturday morning ride.  I slept until 1pm, I honestly can’t remember the last time I did this… it was heavenly.  I think my alarm clock was in shock…and so was my pillow.  If I head off to race in this condition, it’ll be ugly. Curled up in fetal position ugly.  So I’m taking this week as relaxed as possible, just keeping my muscles moving.  My cool, calmed and collective self (doesn’t really exist) has officially abandoned me.  When people ask me about it, my initial reaction is to cover my ears and scream la la la la to not hear about the race.  You put so much into something, so much of yourself, your time, your dedication that the thought of something going wrong, the thought of possibly not accomplishing your goal, shakes you.  Forget the actual money that goes into these races, but the volume of passion, sheer will, it would be heartbreaking not to reach it.  Everyone tells you, you’re ready, you’re going to finish and I know they’re right but my initial thought is always, how do you know? But I’m so grateful for their motivation and faith. Now it’s time to have fun, 140.6 miles of it.  Louisville or bust. ~ AddingMoMiles

Plot Twist

Two weeks ago there was a slight plot twist in my training, fun right? Saturday morning started out normal.  My usual battle with the alarm clock, lots of snoozing, and then jumping out of bed when I realize I’m late.  Pack up like if I’m heading out for the Tour de France and head over for our long ride with All4Cycling.  Start up our warm up, talking about the new USA shows (mixed reviews to be honest) and all of a sudden I’m heading straight for the asphalt.  The guy in front of hit a reflector on the street and took his wheel out, seriously these things are and apparently out to get me.  No time to react, just enough time to hit the brakes.  The whole thing was in slow motion and never ending.  The second he hit the floor I knew I was eating pavement.  With all the finesse in the world I took a little air and landed shoulder first, bounced a few times (people wear your helmets)…and may have possibly rolled sideways, I really can’t say cause I was focusing on the pain shooting thru my arm. All I heard was a bunch of noise cause my thoughts were just screaming.   In real dramatic fashion, being Monica and all, I swore my Ironman career was over.  Siting in someone’s driveway waiting to be picked up, cause of course I wasn’t allowed to continue riding, gave me a few minutes to calm myself.  So it pretty much meant taking a few days off, thrilling.  The next morning I felt like I had been severely beat with a metal object, but just to be sure, I got on the bike.  I lasted a good 1:15 before my shoulder said what the hell were you thinking! Pissed, I packed up and went back home to get back in bed and catch up on the Tour and ice.  Side note: TDF, full of plot twist!

Fast forward two weeks later, eleven pounds of ice, a few tears of frustration (I got stuck in my clothes a lot), a new hate for potholes on the bike, a few painful runs and I got back in the pool for the first time this morning.  My shoulder wasn’t thrilled but good enough to know I can make it thru a 2.4 mile swim tomorrow if necessary.  What I was most upset about, deferring Huntington Triathlon, I was so hoping to get my first podium.  Small races are my only hope…for the time being J The good thing is I was confident enough with my training the last few months to know that taking it easy for a few days wouldn’t really do much harm.  I think it was actually beneficial cause I felt like I was starting to burn out.  I was so mentally drained, I ran without the soles of my shoes.  Yes, no soles….just kind of forgot them at home.

Spectating does have its perks 🙂

So, it’s August  1^st, Ironman month…countdown begins!  It felt so far away when I started training for it, it’s kind of surreal that it’s actually here.  I was relatively calm until I woke up and my phone said August.  If it didn’t feel real, it just got real.  The prep work starts now… list of what goes in each bag (a lot of sunblock and Vaseline), tune up for BABS (my bike), touching up the final details of my nutrition plan (seems like life or death for this race), mentally prepping myself for the longest day of my life (longest.day.ever).  Taking deep breaths.  Practicing my ironman trot.  Picturing my shoot finish (prepping for the pictures of course).  But I can say with all certainty, I am ready for this.  I have never felt so excited, yet so scared for something in my life ~ AddingMoMiles

What’s another word for tired?

So I have paid for my bike to make its way to Louisville (cost more to get her there than myself…that’s some bull) and got a letter from the Race Director.  Not personalized, generic, but he had his assistant take the time to type it up, that was thoughtful.  You can say things are getting serious.  I took my relationship with training to the next level, I started uploading my Garmin data and started using Strava.  Strava is for kicks and giggles, it’s kind of to see who has the bigger balls and name your workouts funny things.  Social Media for cyclist and runners.  Don’t come at my with the Garmin uploading, yes it took me this long.  I went old school, excel baby.  It’s gotten to that point in training where I’m just really tired all the time.  This weekend I rode my first 100 miles ever and got off that saddle pretty damn proud of myself.  Superman pose style.  Cuase 100 miles isn’t hard enough lets add lightening, torrential down pour, and a pair of dogs.  Seriously though, race day someone release a pack of dogs after me, I definitely got up there in speed.  The next morning, I wanted to throw my bike off the Key Biscayne bridge…and so did my lady parts.  100 miles on the bike was followed by a half marathon the next day.  Really? Like pause for a moment and let that sink in.  I remember when I use to taper and then recover for 2-3 weeks after a half marathon.  Those were the good ol’days of peace and tranquility.  Needless to say, Monday morning I was in serious distress, and let’s not even get into the status of my hair and attire that day.

 Mother Nature making training easier

The result

I’m getting text from my mother asking me if I’m alive, my grandfather was about to put my picture on the back of a milk carton, and my sister is constantly threatening to disown me (not sure that would be so bad).

My friends are planning on these very exciting outings I have zero energy.  They wonder if I’m drunk or exhausted.  Not to mention they make fun of my tan lines.  Mostly things that require putting on clothes again and looking presentable are quick frankly just difficult.

Social and dating life…that’s cute.  I mean honestly, I can barely squeeze in doing my eyebrows and getting my nails done.  I’m starting to resemble wolverine and it’s not pretty.  Really, how can I go on a date with all that going on?  I live in a city where women put on fake eyelashes to go to the grocery store; it’s hard to be out in public like this.  If someone can share with me a 24 hour nail place, I would be forever in your good graces.

I’m hungry, I’m hangry, I want to eat anything and everything.  Sure, I’m burning thousands of calories but a doughnut or French fries still go straight to the mid-section.   So it’s a constant battle not to stick my face in every dessert that crosses my path.

I’m cranky, very very cranky.  My bed looks heavenly and it’s where I want to camp out.  So the fact that I am forced to get out of it early every morning is painful.  My road rage has reached new levels of scary but atleast I get all those words that aren’t social acceptable out of my system.  If another mom tells me “wait till you have kids, then you’ll know the meaning of tired”, I’m trading her kids for my training peaks, lets see how long she last.  My home feels like it’s a mess (lets not talk about my room).  I’m contemplating putting a sign that says “Excuse the mess, we’re training for an Ironman” at the front door to caution visitors.  But complaining aside, and I’m good at complaining, I’m almost there and still enjoying taking all this in. ~AddingMoMiles

 

 

Countdown Begins

 

61 day till Louisville!!! #@%&!!! Now that I have that off my chest…can you tell I’m a little excited. Yes, excited! Surprisingly not nervous, scared or curled up in the fetal position in a corner. I thought at this point in training I would have had some kind of breakdown or sending this race to hell but I’m not. I can honestly say it isn’t going too bad. I would love to bask in the glory that is sleeping in some Sundays and not come close to running a half marathon on a Thursday night that leaves me comatose but in general I’m staying pretty calm and collected. This kind of worries me cause calm and collected isn’t really my thing. I may be making this up, but I’m going to say I feel like I’m finally mentally there; lets light some candles this last until race day.

Life out by Robert’s in Homestead

I think it’s seeing the results that have me in this I will survive moment.  After a lot of frustration, some anger, and a few temper tantrums, my bike is where I want it to be. I’m hitting averages that I have never hit before. They say it’s the borrowed 404’s, I’m saying it’s all my big ol’legs. I’m well on my way to my goal time for the bike in the race. My goal is to cross the finish line but I got a few times in my head to keep me a little motivated on race day. No, I won’t be sharing them. I am genuinely enjoying being on the bike. Maybe not always 5 hours, but I don’t look at it like homework. I was constantly thinking and over analyzing when I would go out on the bike. What if I start to hard and blow up my legs, I don’t like being in the group cause it’s absolute madness sometimes, am I drinking enough water? Screw that. Now I’m getting on that bike, getting all up in the group, pushing myself and it’s a damn good time. If my legs blow up, I just pedal myself back at whatever speed they can go. Obviously this isn’t my race day strategy, but it’s getting me the strength, speed and mental willpower I’m going to need because when you’re 3:30 hours in, you’re legs screaming mercy, and you’re still out there in the middle of homestead, you have no choice but to make it back. My run, doesn’t get a whole soliloquy like my bike (no surprise) but I’m getting thru them. We don’t always see eye to eye but I don’t dread them anymore (progress).

Seriously

There are few things one fears when training more than injury. This past weekend the back of my knee really started to hurt, turns out it’s my calf. So much that I had to take Sunday off. I did bask in the glory that is sleeping in Sunday morning, but it was bittersweet. I wanted to train; I don’t want to put my progress on pause.   But better a few days than a few weeks. I am worried, moments of panic as I limped back to my car when it started to hurt again on yesterday’s run but I’m icing, rolling, and going straight to therapy before it gets any worse. Ain’t no one got time for this ~ Adding Mo Miles

#TRAININGPROBLEMS

I sat in my car this morning and realized that there’s a stench of the jungle. I walked into my room and there is workout clothes, both clean and dirty hanging throughout my room. I open my dishwasher and it’s mostly water bottles and shakers. Not only training for an Ironman, but training period comes with some interesting life changing #fitpeopleproblems you just have to learn to accept. There’s no point in fighting it, it just increases frustration. It’s not only #fitpeopleproblems, it’s #triathleteproblems, #cyclistproblems, #fitgirlproblems, #runnersproblems, you name it…fit people got 99 problems and sometimes a bitch is one. (#haters)

#trainingproblems – your beach towels become towels to cover your car seat from your dripping sweat. God forbid you forget one, cause the next time you sit in the chair, it’s still wet.

#trainingproblems – 80% of your laundry pile is workout clothes. I know those that workout regularly have enough to last like 2-3 weeks but I don’t recommend waiting more than a week cause a nice little stench starts to creep out of your hamper.

#cyclingproblems – I can get up, go out, and ride for hours. But the thought of getting out of bed for the indoor trainer is just too much to bare.

#runnerproblems – No those aren’t calluses on my feet, those are blisters that got blisters on them…and yes I must smear Vaseline all over my feet.

#fitgirlsproblems – I may have calluses on my hands sometimes cause a girls gotta get her lifting in.

#cyclistproblems – Finding a clean and decent way to blow your nose on the bike. Snot rockets may work for men, but they aren’t exactly attractive for a lady. But to be honest, by hour 4, you could care less about being a lady.

#trainingproblems – I have shoes for long runs, races, short runs, cross training, leg day. Yes I need that many running shoes.

#triathleteproblems – I have 5 different colors. I have tan lines from my cycling jersey, my tri top, my racer back, cycling shorts (they all have different lengths), my gloves, my socks, and even my Road ID bracelet. I am a zebra of tan lines. They’re my racing stripes and on most days I wear them with pride.

#trainingproblems – Supplements and recovery. I may need to start selling myself on a street corner to afford recovery, glutamine, whey, powdered substances, electrolytes and my eating habits in general. I spent years avoiding salt, now I am paying for salt filled pills. Ironic.

#cyclingproblems – #dead after a 5 hour ride and your just staring at your filthy bike hoping it somehow cleans itself. Common telepathy.

#trainingproblems – Always assume I’m sore and/or tired.

#triathleteproblems – Compression socks are sexy, don’t try to change our minds.

#fitgirlproblems – I swim, bike, run, and strength train… no, I can’t change my schedule cause you want me to go to dinner at 10pm, meet for coffee during the time you know I go for a run, or talk until 1am cause my alarm is set for 5:20am.

#cyclingproblems – Putting all the gunk on your junk only to open the door and realize it’s pouring rain #fail.

#cyclingproblems – When someone in a meeting points out your chain ring tattoo from your morning ride. Yes I showered but I was running to get to this ridiculous meeting on time and didn’t notice it. It requires serious scrubbing…you wouldn’t understand non cycling mortal.

#fitpeopleproblems – No I don’t want a cupcake, no really I don’t want the cupcake, no I’m not on a diet I just don’t want the cupcake. Would you leave me the hell alone I don’t want your stupid cupcake!!!! Secretly, I want to dive face first into the delicious, icing of the cupcake.

I’m about that life. ~ Adding Mo Miles

Piece of Cake

I would like a piece of cake right now, but that isn’t what this post is about. “This week is meant to break you” words from my very dear friend trying to calm me down on the phone Thursday. I apparently was alborotada (in an uproar is the Google translation). I had spent most of the week with a half-cold. It’s when you don’t feel 100% but it’s not a full blown cold. I attribute it to lots of training and a germ infestation in the office. This was hard for me to deal with because it was suppose to be a build week. I wasn’t ready to be out of commission recovering. So come Thursday, time for a long run and I had a Mo moment. Called it a day an hour in and left infuriated with myself and running. I couldn’t hit the pace I wanted, my knees hurt, my stomach was bothering me, I was just pissed. After about a 10 minute call, rational words (surprise, surprise, I was being irrational), and some calm words of motivation, I was better. I was still very frustrated, but tomorrow would be another day.

(Thank you Ryan)

The weekend was approaching and we were putting in some hours. I knew it would happen, but it was still kind of daunting that I was almost late for a 3pm appointment from training that I started at 7am and that I was having breakfast at 1:30pm, it’s become tradition, breakfast after training ❤ . So we set off on our 4:30 ride, in a nice little cloudy drizzle. About an hour in we were layered with street gunk and dirt. Kind of made you feel like a bad ass and really gross all at same the time. The last 4+ hour ride I did, the last hour was painful and my speed was a little embarrassing. This time, I felt strong, kept pace above my race goal, and wasn’t desperate to get off the bike. We finished covered in dirt, smelling like wet dog, and feeling pretty good about ourselves. A big breakfast, compression socks, a burger for dinner, and some quality couch time and I was feeling good for Sunday.

Wind, wind, and more wind. It’s the story of living in Miami and that’s exactly what we got on Sunday. The ride is usually easy for me on bricks because my focus on Sundays is getting through the run.  I’d been having trouble reaching 1:30 on the run and I was suppose to run longer than I’ve ran to date in Ironman training, and the longest I’ve ever ran on a brick, 1:45. So I set out with the usual, looking at my pace, focusing on my speed and by the time I hit the Key Biscayne bridge I knew I wasn’t going to make it thru this run focusing on pace. This time I focused on keeping my mind strong and my spirits high. So I stopped looking at my watch and just ran, from water fountain to water fountain. I even started smiling at anyone who made eye contact, some smiled back, and some looked at me like I was a serial killer. I don’t exactly smile when I run…ever. I played some serious jedi mind tricks. High fiving friends I saw along the way (yea we’re cute like that). Checked out all the bikes (ok and maybe some cyclist), designed my own road bike in my head, chit chatted with strangers. If there’s any time to talk to a stranger it’s on a run.  Tried to make friends with the homeless man that guards a water fountain, he wasn’t a fan. Breaking the run down in 30 minute intervals, cause in my head I can run 30 minutes. My feet started to hurt and my muscles started to cramp, but seeing that I had made it comfortably to an hour and half, I was getting those last 15 minutes in.  It hurt but a weekend that was meant to break me, didn’t (that’s what’s up!). I was proud of us. So on the next week. Piece of cake no? ~ Adding Mo Miles

What If

So I got a question the other day, “what if you can’t finish the Ironman?” The first thought in my head was, thanks for the vote of confidence guy.  My second thought, not possible. My third thought, I’ve asked myself that a few times.  My fourth, I sign up for another one and another one and another one until I do. So my inner badass would say it is not an option, not finishing is not possible. I will make it to that finish line crawling if necessary. But I also have to face the reality that it is a possibility. It’s a long, hot race and many things can go wrong.

So hypothetically speaking (cause it won’t happen), what if? There will be tears (a lot), disappointment, and a whole lot of anger. There will also be a new found determination because you could bet your ass I will be researching the next Ironman to sign up for from my hotel that night. But I also look at what preparing for this race has given me, regardless of whether I cross the finish line. It’s given me confidence as an athlete, in my ability to push thru in moments where I would have usually stopped, given up. It’s given me back something I lost for the sport. It came to a point last year where I wanted to sell my bike and I just wasn’t enjoying it. Lately, I’m tracking my workouts, preparing to really start using my power meter, uploading my Garmin info (yes that’s a huge step) and really itching to sign up for a race. Preparing for this race is helping me through other aspects of my life, some difficult moments. So the constant support I receive in my training is a support for other things also. Kind of weird how that works, people don’t really know how far their support goes for an athlete. So if anything, the experience of preparing for this race is something I can look back on fondly. It has been great so far and I know it will continue.  So if the race doesn’t go as planned, I have to look at what I gained to get there…and the fact that I got to eat a lot more without feeling guilty. 🙂

All I can do is prepare and train.  I like to think I’m training smart, building, and getting stronger. Whatever happens on race day happens on race day but I know I am going ready. But I will tell you this, they’ll have to drag me out on a stretcher before I get off that course. I will cross Ironman off my bucket list. ~ Adding Mo Miles

 

 

Ponle Cabeza

So I am currently a little beat up. Muscles hurt, legs heavy, swollen, sleep walking and I’m starting to discover bruises where I never thought I could bruise. None other than the result All4Cycling Camp. This weekend we packed up our kits, helmets, bonk breakers, some chamois cream and caravanned our way up to Clermont, FL. It’s the only place in Florida where we have rolling hills, the fun street of Buckhill, and the infamous (now conquered) Sugarloaf Mountain. We left Thursday night and came back Sunday. Yes, we took a vacation day to go suffer. We have issues like that. I’ve been to Clermont before, I’ve strolled thru Buckhill once and made my way up Sugarloaf but this time was different. This was a trip with 15 hours of scheduled riding. I’m not going to lie, I was downright scared. Not only that, but I was heading up with what I like to call seasoned riders and some seriously strong cyclist.

Let me introduce you to Sugarloaf:

Day one I kept up for a good amount until we hit about three hours and then people kind of started to get smaller and smaller as I fell back. I was a little proud that I wasn’t the first on the van but I did end up there about 3 miles away from the hotel. I was angry, frustrated and just broke, for the last few miles every turn was a climb, I just felt like I had nothing else left. Who put the hotel on the top of a hill? I’m sure this was on purpose. I realized after this ride how grueling the course is going to be. As I shampooed the hours of sweat out of my hair, I genuinely started to worry about the race. Regardless of how disappointed I was in myself for getting on the van, I got great encouragement for what I was able to do. I would not get frustrated with myself the next day (I did).

I started Day 2 with the goal of riding longer than I did the day before, 5 hours. But it was the ride I realized exactly what I can do and how much I can push myself. It wasn’t all about the time and distance but the amount of support I received this ride, it’s beyond words. Pulling while going up two hills and hearing a group of 16 people or so root you on to make sure you made it all the way to the top. To have someone coaching you thru the climbs, pushing you (literally someone pushed me up the last climbs), telling you it’s mental (ponle cabeza became the theme), how proud they were to see you fight thru the pain, to hear them calling your name up ahead to make sure you get there, and just have a group who wanted to see you make it thru the end of the ride as much as you did.  Regardless of my attitude, I got a little cranky and boy did I bitch, they were pushing me. They know what I’m capable of more than I do most of the time. For those that were there reading this, thank you…thank you for everything.

 

Unfortunately by the third day I couldn’t handle the saddle, there wasn’t enough A&D in the world, but I got dressed and rode as long as I could. I finished the weekend with almost 13 hours and about 200 miles of cycling (gotta check the Garmin). Never in my life did I think I was capable of that. The weekend was full of laughs (ab workouts), pain, sweat, wind, rain, hills on hills on hills, adventures, good food and better friends. It was grueling, it was mentally challenging, but if anything I left Clermont a stronger athlete and ready to keep training. ~ Adding Mo Miles

It’s Simple

In the last two years, actually since I started training for anything 4 years ago, I’ve gotten a lot of whys. Why wake up at 5am on the weekend, why pay for a race, why the hell would you do a two-a-day, and why would you possibly want to race for hours? Who does that? I do. Simple, because it’s fun. I know it sounds completely demented but there is no better feeling than a sick workout. Than sitting there drenched in sweat, your leg muscles pulsing, looking at your watch, and knowing you killed it. Being layed out on the sidewalk because you just left everything you had out on the ride. I can now say my day is complete, because there is a feeling of completeness being completely exhausted.

Something like this…

 

It’s simple, because I can. This was part of a conversation with my girls yesterday; you should take nothing for granted. There are people that never or no longer have the opportunity to go out for a run, squat their own weight, or know the feeling of crossing the finish line of a race. They’ll never be able to feel the energy of the athletes or spectators, read those funny signs. I am blessed enough to do this, so I will and I’m thankful every race. It’s simple, because there’s something about feeling the sun on your skin and sweating it out. I don’t think I can ever understand how people can only workout in the gym. I need to be out, I need my vitamin D.

It’s simple, because I don’t want to be average. I want to look back and know I tested my body’s limits. I want to get old, wrinkled and tell stories about crossing finish lines with the girls in the home. I want to look back Monday mornings and know I did more than just drink, eat, and sleep on the weekend. I want to feel accomplished. I want to make checks on my fitness bucketlist, hell on all of my bucketlists. I want to hear the words “you are an Ironman.” But when they ask why, I’ll stick to its fun, mostly because I like to see their reaction. But seriously, it is fun. ~ Adding Mo Miles

Dear Motorist

Hello, my name is Monica and I have road rage. There, I said it. Most people fear getting in a car with me and I don’t blame them. In my pre-cycling life, I was not a fan of cyclist. They got in my way of where I wanted to go, as fast as I wanted to get there.

Then came the day I clipped into my first bike. I was in love, after getting over the initial fear that I was stuck to a bicycle. My first time riding on the road was pure terror. Cars flying by me, horns honking, and people cursing. My view was forever changed and I have a new found respect for not only cyclist, but pedestrians, runners, dogs, babies in strollers…basically any living thing near cars driving in Miami. We encounter some respectful motorist, but then we have our run ins with serious a-holes.

So to the person honking the horn and missing me by an inch with your rearview mirror on purpose, you’re an a-hole. To the woman eating a McMuffin, almost taking the stop sign and hitting a cyclist, and then cursing at him… you’re an a-hole. To the drunk that hit a cyclist and sped away… you’re a poor excuse for a human, a coward…oh and also an a-hole.   To the man with a big ol’truck, obviously compensating for your lack of size somewhere else, purposely and obnoxiously honking your horn…you’re an a-hole. To the cyclist who doesn’t follow traffic laws…you’re kind of an a-hole too.

I get it, I was that person trying to get somewhere 2 minutes early. No one likes mornings, traffic, or someone making you late to a meeting. But is it worth risking someone’s life?  Think about it, this is a human being on the bicycle. Unfortunately most Miami streets don’t have bike lanes, so you have to share the roads. The cyclist is a mother, father, son, daughter, sister…is it worth injuring them to make it to the office 2 minutes earlier? We can’t ride on the sidewalks and we have the right to use the full lane. This morning another cyclist was hit on the Rickenbacker Causeway. There are no details yet but lets make Miami streets a little safer for everyone.   So be respectful, share the roads, pass with 3 feet of space and don’t be an a-hole, BOTH cyclist and motorist. ~ Adding Mo Miles