pancakes anyone?

I think plan ‘blog at the end of the day’ is a no go. I’m so drained at the end of the day that I have no energy left to devote to making sound decisions. I talked, and even titled a post, about derrieres for Pete’s sake. I really must get a grip, and behave more reasonably, mental power or no! As such, I've tidied up and added a bit to the few most recent posts... apologies again for discussion of behinds. It's just been on my mind a lot lately, and I couldn't keep it from coming right out of my mouth (or fingers in this case). Will try very hard to behave better in the future. :o)

Day 8 started out cold. We bundled up with pants over our cycling shorts, jackets, long gloves, and ear warmers. We had breakfast at Minnie’s Café again, and I went for the egg and pancake combo. It was delicious, but unfortunately my belly was not hungry enough for all of them. I realized that as I began the meal, and make a joke about how silly things, like taking pancakes with you in a ziploc bag, begin to seem reasonable after being on a biking trip for a week. Everyone laughed. I did too. By the end of the meal, I’d decided it was no joking matter, and that the pancakes must come along with me. So the waitress (though she gave me a bizarre look) packaged them up in a baggie for me and I rode out of Minnie's parking lot around 7 am with pancakes flapping in the breeze from my back pocket. By mile 35, they were gone. :o)

Today was our first century (ride over 100 miles), and I tried to pace myself. For the first 20 miles, I was just fine, although I did notice that I was having to fight against the wind. While I could cover most of me up from the cold, my face was still exposed and was freezing as I rode into the wind. The headwind continued as I rode through miles 20 to 46, where we had the lunch stop. As I’d just finished my pancakes, I didn’t eat too much, but packed my pockets full of snacks and sandwiches for the afternoon. The scenery was absolutely stunning as we got closer and closer to the Rockies throughout the day. We also rode alongside the Creek Fork River for most of the day, and the views were breathtaking. Taking it all in occupied my attention and kept me moving against the wind during the first half of the day. After mile 60 or so, the sun started pounding down on me, and though I’d shed the extra clothing, I still felt like I was melting. I refilled my 2-liter Camelbak at the last checkpoint, but drank it all within 10 miles – with 10 miles still left until the next opportunity for refilling. The headwind persisted, and the ride became progressively hillier. Then, around mile 75, we began a 4.5 mile climb. It was a shallow grade, but with the headwind, it was brutal. We were all creeping along. The fact that it was so shallow and you couldn’t really see how much you were climbing, but could only tell that you were really struggling, was really disheartening.

We had another checkpoint at the top of the climb around mile 80. I’d pent up all of the frustration of the hill, and was ready to vent to the first poor soul I saw. I had a full scale, all out temper tantrum in mind. Rich, the mechanic, was at the stop and the first thing he said is “It’s all downhill from here.” The way he smiled told me he meant it. My heart leapt – there was a chance I’d survive after all!

And he was right – it was mainly downhill. I’d been a bit overzealous in my interpretation of his words though, and I was expecting to not pedal a single stroke for the remaining 20 miles. Around mile 90, I encountered a small hill – I mean really small – that wouldn’t have phased me at the beginning of the day. But I was so exhausted, I pedalled up it at, quite literally, a snail’s pace. In fact, I’m certain I saw several inchworms whizzing right by on the ground. At least, I think they were inchworms – they were going so fast, comparatively, they were a blur.
I arrived with four other riders at 6:20. Believe it or not, there were four other riders still behind us. In (sadistically) good news, all of the other riders are starting to slow down, so at least I’m in good company and rarely alone now. There was a plate of cookies out, and I grabbed one and shoved the whole thing in my mouth, not even bothering to eat it by bites. Thankfully, it was a smallish cookie so that it didn’t choke me to death. Once I found out that I could eat one cookie in a single bite, I then grabbed two more and shoved them in my mouth. It was literally the only thing I was capable of doing at the moment.

We have a rest day tomorrow and are staying in the University of Montana dorms. Our dinner tonight was in the university cafeteria, and it turns out that they stop serving at 6:30. The crew members shoo’d us into the cafeteria to try and grab dinner before it closed. I walked aimlessly and collected a random assortment of non-complementary food items from the buffet on my plate. I sniffled the whole way through the line to keep from crying. Others were not able to keep the tears in. It was a really tough day.

Sarah, one of the other riders, didn’t come in until around 8 pm. Her determination is seriously admirable! Several of us waited outside for her, ran with her for the last bit, and cheered her on. I made the unfortunate mistake of trying to converse with people while waiting for Sarah to arrive. Conversation was clearly far above my mental capabilities in my current state, and all that cam from my mouth were silly, incoherent syllables. It wouldn’t even be fair to call them sentences.
After much effort, I managed to put myself to bed, and I slept like a baby.