The sorts of crazy things
So… here’s the sort of thing that goes through the mind of the sort of person who rides 100 miles on a 95 degree day in north Texas…
Great ride! Got a *##(*$( flat, but that’s better than I’ve been doing lately…
Don, Renee & Mark rode the century option. David fired up the excuse generator and mumbled something about his kid and the park… Jeff Frye (who I’m blaming for my decision to ride the century option in the first place) was nowhere to be seen. Don was kind enough to keep Renee mostly slowed down enough that I could keep up. She kept springing off on that fancy new bike.
I have a new name for Loving Hill. OK. It’s probably not new. And it’s definitely not PG-13.
Got home with 92.5 miles. Drank 3 quarts of ice water and rode the longest 8 miles of my life to round things out for the day.
All in all, very pleased with how I handled the heat. I hydrated well Friday and Saturday, and drank about 1.5 quarts of water before leaving the house this morning. I was kinda slack on drinking through the first stop in Rowlett where I refilled the Camelbak (thanks, David!). I got left behind at the stoplight at Firewheel… Wasn’t quite up to following the tail end of the crew through a red while under the watchful eye of Rowlett’s finest. Sadly… no one passed the word that a couple folks got left behind. One hung right and kept going. I hung right, and made a lovely u-turn over the median and kept the crew in sight up to the rest stop.
I drank much better between there and the 2nd stop at the Starbuck’s in Richardson where I re-iced (but not meticulously enough). At the 3rd stop, I should have fought with ice, but I got lazy and just added water to the Camelbak – and drank the better part of a 32 oz Gatorade Fierce Melon. For the record… Mixing the remnats of Fierce Melon with Rain Kiwi Strawberry was *interesting*. Oddly palatable, but definitely interesting.
From stop 3, we headed across *#$*(#$ing hill, me with 20+ ounces of cold Gatorade in my gut. Testament to my careful hydration plan, it did NOT try to find the nearest exit. Have I mentioned how fond I suddenly became of my 30×26? I was certainly feeling for Marko who was climbing the *#$*#$(ing hill somewhere behind me as I knew that he did NOT have a 30×26. At the top of the last climb, I pulled away from the stop and felt the ALL TOO FAMILIAR *THUNK* of flat rear tire. Fortunately there was shade. Heck… there was even energized garden hose that Marko and Renee took advantage of. Thing had not quite degraded to wet Jersey contest by the time I had replaced the tube.
We proceeded on northward up the trail for a final stop at the park. Renee was smarter than me and took advantage of the stop to remove her shoes for a moment. I considered it, but was convinced I had FINALLY found the right strap settings. I hung with the group until they head east to Independence. I opted to coast downhill (into the wind) to Hillcrest and take the tailwind up the gentle grade to Park (and add an extra mile or two before I hit the house).
When I got home, I removed my shoes… OH THE RELIEF! I drank a few quarts of ice water, rid myself and the bike of everything but the cell phone and did a few laps around the neighborhood to make 100 miles.
Fabulous day, capped off by a trip to Scotty P’s for what was again (amazing how this keeps working) the BEST CHILI CHEESEBURGER EVER!
