>Last Saturday was the most physically and emotionally draining day of my
>life, and I've been physically and emotionally drained before. This was the
>worst.
>
>It all started off so innocently. I need cycling experience, so I singed up
>for Andiamo Fitness' Spring Cycling Clinic to get geared up for the spring
>and summer triathlon season. Although I signed up a bit late, I still get 8
>more Saturdays to learn all the ins and outs of hill climbing, cornering,
>and descending.
>
>Now, I've gone on bike rides before. I've even gone 20 whole miles. I've
>never really kept track. I did twelve miles in a sprint triathlon, and I
>averaged 20 mph. Another time, someone I was riding with said that we were
>going twenty whole miles an hour. Boy, did I think I was fast.
>
>Well, that was on a bike path in Danville. This was a lot different.
>
>For one thing, it's pretty amazing how quickly your body can burn up
>calories. I thought for sure that Cliff Bar would provide more than
>adequate energy. Well, I was wrong. This was not a place to fall asleep at
>the wheel.
>
>Nor was I expecting rain. None of us were. I've gone running in the rain.
>You're warm enough, and if you wear a hat, it's not so bad. It's almost
>kind of peaceful.
>
>Churning up that Marshall grade, travelling at a whopping 4 mph, scared to
>stop, knowing that if I did, I'd only roll backwards down the hill, in the
>rain, with no rain gear, with snot flowing down my face, my glasses so wet
>from the rain drops that I couldn't see, made me almost cry, except that
>that would require energy that I did not have.
>
>Other riders whimpered in agony. Some turned around and went home. I kept
>going, not because I am a strong person, but because I was too afraid to
>turn around. I might fall.
>
>Nearing Pt. Reyes, my carbohydrate stores were so depleted that I was
>dizzy, and I did not know how I'd make it back to our home base at the
>Cheese Factory. Only 11 more miles, the sign said. Our total would be 41.
>
>Climbing the last grade back to the Cheese Factory, our coach drove along
>side us and issued out helpful tips, like, "Try pedaling faster!" I paid
>money for this.
>
>By the time I finally made it back to our home base, I felt like I had been
>violated, that I was the victim of some horrible joke. I couldn't even
>stand up for the debriefing in the parking lot. I thought I would pass out
>right then and there. I couldn't stand up even to order my sandwich in the
>Cheese Factory. There was nothing but the burning, oh the burning in my
>quads and there was nothing, NOTHING I could do to make it stop.
>
>Yet, I am driven by one thing. Okay, two. Three. The first one is, I paid
>good money for this. I have to follow through. And the other is that thanks
>to an excellent fitting by coach Phil the Friday previous, I endured this
>torturous day with nary any knee pain, an absolute first.
>
>I can't remember what the third reason is. Pride, I think.
>
>Katie K.
Sounds like you found religion.
When I was road racing, oh some 30 lbs ago, this would be a somewhat intense
training ride.
Keep it up! You can do it!
Regards,
Rob
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