yes, we did it.

we finished. all three of us together. {though there were indeed moments of seperation} 12 hours riding time, 3 hours of rest along the way, which of course put us at a total of fifteen hours. we left in the dark, and returned in the dark. 16.7 mph average, and the greatest levels of discomfort i have felt other than injury {broken jaw in spain, broken arm, toe, nose, etc.} or an intense flu. though relative of course, as around mile 90 we saw a man bloody, on his back at the side of the road. the police we there and applying a neck brace, and his companions looked broken. it was quiet. it was at that moment precisely, when i concluded that i should quit thinking about the pains in my body and just ride my bike. which i confess, did not last all that long.

we {being us} got a late start after barely sleeping {2 hours?}, and thusly had to race as they close the rest stations along the way. hour two saw us keeping pace at about 23 mph which is fast, and FAR TOO fast for 7am with 170 miles to go. good god. this pace of course, led to some problems. i had the bright idea around this time, that i would urinate they way the pros do. so i slipped to the back of our pack, removed my penis from my shorts, and proceeded to learn how difficult this is by pissing all over myself. yes indeed, the 'professional cyclist peeing system' is more difficult than it looks. what this meant for me, aside from basically giving up and just pissing in my pants, was that i was left behind the pack to ride the morning winds up to lake berryessa with no draft. i did not like that. ah well.

at about mile fifty, i looked over at mike who seemed to be in fairly {really} bad shape. mike says to me, "this is not going well at all. i'm in a really bad place." i couldn't help but laugh at how miserable he was so early on. 23mph. but we dropped our heads and carried on.

rest stop #3. the sun was finally beginning to warm us, and we had covered 64 miles at 9:30 am. drinking, eating, drinking, eating. we stretched and hit the road, happy that we were finally passing people and we had closed the narrow gap between rest stops shutting down. we were now an hour and a half ahead of closures, while rest stop one was breaking down upon our arrival.

rest stop #4, mile 76. matt's spirits are high. my calf has stopped its strange new pain that began at mile 40. again i quote mike~ "two things: first of all, i will never do this again, and when i get home, i will be crossing the 'ironman' off my to do list." all three of us laughed heartily.

at this point, things become rather blurry. we had come into the hills in earnest, and the fatigue coupled with the fact that we had another 130 miles to go was problematic. i did not feel any joy. as a matter of fact, i can say that i didn't really feel all that much joy the entire day. many other things, but not joy. this ride taught me a great deal about what i love and what i despise regarding cycling. throw forth your guesses.

then "lunch." we took our shoes off and sat in the shade. ate sandwiches. laughed about our state of discomfort. tried to imagine the fact that we had 95 miles to go, and the biggest hills yet. we mounted the bikes, began the climbing, and my darkest hour arrived. bloodsugar dropped, delirium began, and at some point {i don't really remember all that much} i stumbled off the road and lay in the weeds and bushes for ten minutes or so, wondering what the fuck was going on. checking my pulse as i rode back up the hills, wondering what your pulse feels like when you're about to have a heart attack. of course i would giggle to myself about this later. i "bonked" rather hard as they say. but, i climbed the rest of the hills, and we began the descent. there were motorhomes that almost hit us, and a mind nearly vacant of thought.

from that point on, it really becomes blurry. after the hills, we had another 60 miles, which we just sort of rode. we rode and rode and rode and rode and rode. the sun fell and the air grew cold once again. somewhere along the way, my dear friend andrea {matt's wife} was at a friend's farm along the route with frsh cherries, and hugs, and the laughter of people sitting in the shade, watching as the lunatics ride by. i was amazingly grateful for that brief moment back to the world; that quick escape from the dizzying road.

and then the circle completes itself.

though i imagine the thought was purely psychological, as we rode back into town, gliding on the smooth pavement, i felt like i could have kept riding all night. slowly perhaps, but all night nonetheless. then again, i may have completely collapsed at mile 205. who knows? we watched the people passing us in the vans with their bikes on top, having thrown in the towel. the cold, somber looks on their faces.

i do know, that i will never do that again {on purpose} and that i am proud of myself and mike and matt. somehow, it still seems impossible though it is done. one more thing checked off this list of mine. now it is time to put things in boxes, load the car, and drive to the folks house. why do i have so many 'things'? life continues its own ride, up and down the hills. sometimes slow and sometimes fast.

Posted by jeff pitcher at May 17, 2004 10:11 AM

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