The Suffering

I honestly can say that I have never suffered as much on a bike as I did yesterday. It was a long day all the way around. I woke at five, had some granola and a banana and then got on the road to Holland. I stopped at a rest stop on the highway. Interesting thing about that, they sell beer everywhere. This rest stop was not like in the States with restaurants and whatnot. It was essentially a WaWa with an area with some standing tables, no chairs. Well, it was about quarter to six when I walked in and it was honestly like walking into a bar. That room had a dozen or so people around the tables, it was filled with smoke with empty cans of Jupiler all round. They were a raucos group as well, I can imagine how long there had been there. The thing is, it was a rest stop on a highway. The only place to go was back on the highway. Interesting to say the least.
I got to Patrick's house in Holland at a quarter to seven and built up the Mamasita for another run on European soil. After that we loaded four bikes on the top of a little trailer (pic to follow, I need one of them) and headed south. About and hour and a half later we were kitting up in a parking lot. Another Euro thing, if you have to pee, turn around and pee. There is no need to seek shelter or hide, just take care of business. Then it was off to the start line.
It was another mass of humanity, with a few thousand riders registered, though not the sixteen thousand in Norway. From the gun I had pretty good sensation in my legs, especially after about four weeks off the bike. It took about an hour to get the legs rolling but I was holding my own sitting in a crowd. We went through cow fields, old tractor roads, double and single track. Before the race started I was filling out my medical form when it asked what my blood type is. Needless to say, I don't know. I was also wondering why that was needed. Well, when I was desending this ribbon of slimy singletrack just about full out and realized I was two feet away from barbed wire fencing. After the sun burned the morning fog off, it turned out to be a nice day, which I am very grateful for because I cannot imagine what the course is like in rain.
So, at the first stop, I grabbed a banana and a few sports drinks. The stop was minimal, about 30K in and when I stop, I cramp. A little ways after the stop there was a sign, 50 and 75K to the left, 100K to the right. Well, I took the right.
Fast forward and hour and a half. I realized that the entire course, everything, was either going up or down. Ridiculous, not a flat spot to be found. Some of the climbs were just steep but nothing was overly long. I also realized that my bike was weighed down by an additional five pounds or so of claylike mud that contained both cow and horse shit. That made grabbing a mud caked water bottle more of a necessity than a luxury. I really started cramping up right at the beginning of hour threee. On a climb that pitched up to a granny gear march at the end, I could not make it and when both feet hit the ground, both quads siezed up at the same time. I just stood there looking down at the raquetballs above my knees begging for release. Thankfully they eventually let go and I was on my way, a little more gingerly. Two corners later I was hit with this dose of reality, a sign that read "50K". I figured, I was in trouble....

To be continued...