Beginning at the end

I sunk down into the coldest tub of water I could handle at the end of my ride yesterday. Actually, short of adding ice to the water, I couldn't have gotten it any colder. I kept running my hand under the water coming out of the faucet wondering if I had turned on the wrong one. In reality, I was just that hot. How'd I end up there?

I rode part of the bike route that I used to ride when I was training for Ironman Wisconsin. I have not gone over 20 miles on my bike in recent memory, so doing a 33 mile ride was going to be a stretch, but I thought that if I would just soft pedal if I started to struggle, I'd be fine. I ride a bike with a triple chainring, and I seldom let myself use the smallest of the three, so I figured I had that, too. It would be fine. 

And everything was fine. For most of the ride. Up until a certain point. I rode well through Mammoth Cave National Park. I took on a couple of 5-minute climbs and felt really great about how those went. I was taking in calories in the form of peanut butter pretzels and gel and gatorade mixed with water. I had a few run-ins with cars, but I'll save my ranting about vehicles for a post dedicated to ranting. (But just to interject here, if you have to force a car coming in the opposite direction off the road in order to pass a cyclist, you need to just hit your brakes, for the love.) 

My first stop on the ride came in Park City, KY. It's a far cry from Park City, Utah. Here's the view from my stop:

Yep. So you can tell that I was pretty tired because I stopped here. At this spot. After rolling through beautiful Mammoth Cave National Park, this is where I chose to pull over. I wanted to give my toes a break. My shoes were killing me. I wanted to regroup before I headed into some rollers, and I wanted to assess my calorie situation. Regrouping done, I resolved to soft-pedal. I was starting to feel the heat. How bad could it be? 

I hit some gorgeous green spots. Check out this road:

and I was doing okay until about two minutes after stopping to take this picture. I rolled up on a house that I haven't been past since I last rode the route. And when I last rode the route, they had a dog. I remembered that. I got past the first driveway of the house, and that's when I heard him. Man, he was huge. And charging. And barking. And showing his teeth. I was yelling, pedaling all over the road, telling him to go home, and trying to decide if I was going to have to jump off my bike to try to put my bike between me and the dog. The confrontation lasted probably less than 20 seconds, but my heart rate took a heck of a lot longer to come down, and any energy I had been conserving for the last five or six miles of the ride home was shot. And I still had this hill to climb:

The picture doesn't really do it justice because it's a much sharper climb than I think this shows. But I was riding into Rocky Hill, and I kept telling myself to remember that they named it that for a reason. These aren't mountains, but they are little rollers with a little out-of-the-seat climbing required now and again. On an 80 degree day, this would not have been a challenge. On this 104 degree day, this was looking pretty tough.

After pushing my way through Rocky Hill, I stopped again. I called my husband to let him know that I was about five miles out from home and doing okay but that I was hurting. Too hot. Legs were shot. Looking back now, I was probably just pushing the edge of the call I've never, ever made: "Come pick me up." I gave myself a few minutes more in the shade and headed on. Two more good climbs ahead.

I hit the first climb, and when I needed to stand up out of my saddle, I got off my bike. Yep, I did it. I walked my bike up that hill. In the ditch. I was thinking that the most important thing at this point was to make it home and that killing myself on that hill was not going to have any physical benefit at all. I was probably being a bit melodramatic, but I was also just so damn hot.

Made it up the second climb and was grateful that my dog friend at that house decided to stay home. You might remember him from my 20 mile run; he accompanied me for several of those miles.

And then I was home. And in the bathtub. And feeling okay sitting in freezing cold water.

I don't know what I was thinking. I know better than to add 33% mileage, even if it is on a bike ride and not a run. And I know better than to ride that far on those hills in that heat. I KNOW better. I've felt wasted all day today. I didn't get up for the 5:00 stadium runs this morning because I knew I needed the rest. I was sad to miss running on that fantastic field, though.

So I'm feeling like I don't want to ride my bike ever again, but I think I'll go out in a couple of days with a friend from my running group. And I'll get back into it. And I'll enjoy it. And next time, I'll at least pack more peanut butter crackers.