Stage 8: My Own Personal Hell

I wanted to pull over and cry. I would have but I didn’t have the energy. It was easier to keep pedaling.

About 66 miles into my 112 mile day the bonk hit. It hit hard. One minute I was ok, next BOOM!!! The shot heard ‘round my head. The first few times I got dropped I had the energy to yell. The next few I gasped. The next few I just grunted. Finally I decided screw it, they will notice I am not there in a while.

In retrospect I should have taken it easier on stage 7. In retrospect I should have eaten after stage 5 even though I felt like puking. In retrospect I should have chosen fat, slow team mates. In retrospect I shouldn’t have signed up in the first place. Ah, retrospect.

I ate all the gel in my jersey, I ate Milt’s energy food, I ate Chris’s gel. I drank all my water. I didn’t taste any of it. The only thing I tasted was pain.

My head didn’t start to spin till I was 5 miles from the transition. The hallucinations started a little bit after that. Do you see the size of that chicken? Oh, no – that’s just Milt – the legs looked like chicken. Sorry Milt. I hope hell isn’t like this.

We passed some people while I was in my own personal hell – it must have really sucked to be them.

Stage 8 finished. I hoped Darin rode slow – I had to ride stage 10. I ate a sandwich, I ate a banana, I drank a bottle of accelerade, I drank a bottle of water.

I got on my bike and rode in the 4 hole all the way to Ketchum behind Milt, Chris, and Darin averaging over 32 mph. Woo Hoo! What a ride.

I can’t wait till LP200 – 2009!