Up again before the crack of dawn and the weather has turned for the worse. Thank goodness my 120km cycling adventure with the boys finished 16 hours ago, when the sun was shining.
Yesterday's weather had been perfect. The proposed 6am start was somewhat hampered by the Running Event of the City. After diverting through the onslaught of huffers, puffers & shufflers, the first hill climb out of the City Center had me struggling a little for breath. I was already concerned about my recent spate of asthma. The chesty thing I cant shake came from under its rock and was already sapping my energy. I hadn't anticipated this.
We rode a good pace to get away from the city. The extra weight of food in my jersey pockets was comforting. I need to eat a lot and I was prepared for the long haul. Electrolytes, gels and water were in arms reach. The three boys and I rode in formation up the Pacific Highway, and as we passed other cyclists we knew our progress was positive.
One of the boys was having back issues so we pulled up for a combined seat adjustment, snack and pit stop. With all in order we got back to business and around 40km's veered onto a lesser worn road. It seemed a consistent up and down track, with a few more ups than downs.. ;)
The air thinned as we climbed, my breathing was noticeably more hampered but I still felt good. Passing larger groups of cyclists we became aware of an event which ran the main vein of our planned route. The extra company around us had the road buzzing. At around 60km's I was feeling some mild leg issues, probably a consequence of hammering out a 60km effort two days before.
My husband broke away as we reached a summit, and he flew the descent. Some wet roads and sudden corners had the three of us pulling at our breaks. The fog became an apparent problem. We three stuck together. Our glasses were wet and the surroundings became increasingly difficult to navigate. I confidently followed Kev's wheels. He knew how to ride so I felt safe cornering his tracks. However, this theory came unstuck when the hand that held his glasses prevented his brakes from catching. His wheels slipped under him. This tight corner was both his and my undoing - I watched him slide over gravel and then a good meter over hard rock and dirt. It was the embankment that finally stopped him. What could I do to prevent the same fate? Braking hard would have me loose it over the handlebars. But light braking would have me smashing my front wheel into the rockface. So I simply and gently pulled the brakes, slid over rock, de-cleting one foot and fell on my side. A little undignified but effective nevertheless. Our third rider behind was unscathed. Sometimes watching an incident is enough to spook the daylights out of you. Having seen Kev loose it gave me more to think about than the slight scratches Id then and there gained. His knuckles were bad. The rocks had ripped a good section of seat from his butt. He didn't have much to begin with! And he had a gaping hole in his arm. I put pressure on the skin either side of the hole, it seamed up beautifully and as I released it I suggested he needed some stitches to seal the mess. He was in shock, but in relatively good spirits. We needed a medical center but how to get there? 'I can ride' he said.
By the time my husband wound his way up the hill (he knew trouble had happened when we didn't meet him at base), we had decided to keep riding. Not 3 km's down I asked a fisherman for a band aids. Beautiful! - they had a medical kit worthy of our emergency. He also showed us the massive salmon he'd caught. Bandaged up and ready to ride we began the 60km return to Sydney.
The hills became my downfall. I had an asthma attack and urged my husband to catch the boys and convince them to ride ahead. I didn't want to be a burden and Kev should see a doctor. 5km Ben returned. Brendan had broken away and when Kev was told my plan he explained that he had no intention of moving on. Later he told me, 'You're stronger when you work as a team'. I stopped with Ben. I had to eat. All that food in my jersey and I hadn't eaten. I felt better. We met with the boys a few more km's up the road, I ate again. Another 10km's into it and I repeated the refuel. This was better.
I knew Kev was in pain and each kilometer was a pain on his ass (pun intended). I kept my breathing and heart rate as low as I could, which meant some terribly slow 9k an hour ascents. But we got back on the highway in better spirits. I was energised after food.
Sydney was jammed with traffic, and after our adventure I felt we'd spent a few days away. Noise, pollution, impatience and competition for road space had me alert. With 2 km's to home Kev broke away with promises to see a doctor. Brendan, Ben and I stopped not far off. We needed a meal, a beer and a pretzel.
Yesterday was a hard ride. It also provided many revelations. Kev showed me courage and kindness. Ben is as patient as a saint. No matter how badly I feel for having him hang back he always assures me its about the company not the competition. I also learnt I need to continually eat on my rides. I cant go an hour without fueling. Though I argue its mostly mental over the physical, my mental state depletes without food.
With each ride I become better prepared and I can't wait till the next one. I need to do this ride as soon as possible, to act on my new learnt knowledge and be a better rider - which may be sooner than I think.
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