So this past weekend I decided that it would behoove me to do a long ride in preparation for the MS150 - which is LESS THAN 1 MONTH AWAY (did you donate yet??)
I opted for a 70-ish mile loop - never mind that the longest ride I've done this year is 45 miles. If I can ride 45 miles, I can certainly ride 70. Because, of course.
The temperature was forecast to be in the mid-90s so I got out early to beat the heat, right?
Um. No.
I planned to get out early. But, as the literati say the best laid plans oft go awry (or something like that).
No, first my Garmin refused to recognized that I am a living being - even after I stripped one of the miniature screws on the back of the sensor in the process of changing the battery to remind it that I am actually sentient.
A lengthy cursing session followed until we realized that the HR reader was turned off (as was the cadence - which would probably explain why I was pedaling in squares rather than circles...or not.) Everything turned back on and, voila!, ready to go, right?
I drank about 1/2 of the 20oz Coke I bought (why does the 8 oz cost more than the 20??? Who needs that much Coke?). Replenished my salt and chocolate with the pretzels, refilled my bottles (20 oz water did the trick) and headed off.
Oh, did I mention I pretty much skipped breakfast? Ate a banana on my way out of the house and a gel about an hour into the ride. What's that, maybe 160 calories?
Very quickly the calorie and hydration deficit began to set in. Then someone turned the heat on. Suddenly 93 deg feel more like 193 deg and with the heat reflecting off the road I felt distinctly like the Wicked Witch of the West after being doused with a bucket of water...
or Dali's melting clocks...
or this giraffe...
Around mile 45 I shifted from melting and began to feel like I was cooking.
This is me...on my bike...dehydrated...in the million degree heat |
By mile 55 I was no longer sweating, my head hurt and I was nauseous.
I began thinking that death would be merciful.
I stopped around mile 57 (Stone Mtn Village) and stood in the shade for 10 min.
It didn't help.
I poured some of my water over my head.
It was hot.
I was hot.
But, I reminded myself, it's only another 13 miles home. Only. 13. Miles.
3 miles from home I was done. I sat on the sidewalk and contemplated my options.
- I could sit where I was until the mosquitos sucked me dry (which they probably couldn't do because my blood had the consistency of dirty motor oil)
- I could sit until I felt better (not likely).
- I could walk home (good times in Sidis)
- I could make an SOS call home for a ride.
While option 1 was appealing, I decided that option 4 was probably less painful.
I dialed. It rang once. And.....my phone died.
oh.
Just as I resigned myself to option 5: the longest 3 mile ride home....ever....A truck rolled past, stopped, down went the passenger window and a voice said "Rebecca! Do you want a ride?"
Seriously?!
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