Thirty-four

There were thirty-four good reasons I retired 200km into the weekend's 600km ride -- all of them degrees celcuis! Just how it managed to get so hot in May is totally beyond me, and the lack of shade on the route didn't help. I had coped well on the first 150km or so, but toward the end of that stretch I had a nasty feeling in the pit of my stomach, and after eating something at that checkpoint, I was almost vomiting.

On reflection I probably should have just taken a few more minutes at the checkpoint and tried to wait the feeling out, but I honestly thought the next 50km or so would allow it to clear up, and the temperature would drop a little. Instead I spent time laying in a heap on the side of the road in whatever shade I could find (which wasn't much), trying to cool down. I think I need to either learn to handle the heat, or move to Tasmania.

Everything had looked promising up to that point. The ride to the pub at Lowood from Ipswich the previous night went without incident, and the night air was a beautiful temperature. Indeed, staying at the Lowood pub was quiet enough that I was able to sleep reasonably well (even if my train didn't get me to Ipswich as early as I would have liked). The shower seemed to be on Perth time -- given that everytime I went to adjust the water temperature, it took several minutes to respond.





Most of the ride was reasonably scenic without being stunningly beautiful. It was also frighteningly dry. Here one can see the full extent of the six-year drought currently gripping south east Queensland. Lake Atkinson itself was nothing more than a crater filled with brown grass, and the water levels in the other lakes were alarmingly low. For all that I was able to get into an easy early rhythm, and everything seemed to be progressing well.



It was en route to the second checkpoint at Laidley that things started to happen. I actually had to give some water to another rider who was seriously struggling with the heat on the hilly stretch between Esk and Gatton. She, in turn, showed me a farm house where we could refill enough to get through to Laidley. We got through that, but the signs were already there. On reflection, the bikejournal.com jersey probably wasn't the best choice in the heat.

After the Laidley checkpoint I set off without stopping as long as I probably could have, but in the hilly first 10km through Plainland, it didn't seem to be bothering me that much. It was on the flat stretch, grinding into a headwind that I had problems. During the next 40km I made at least three roadside stops to try to recuperate in the shade. I made another stop at a store to drink a litre of sports drinks (anything cold would have sufficed at this point, because even the water in the camelbak was hot). I knew then that this ride was slipping away.

I'm going to take a quick ride early tomorrow morning to reassess my goals for the remainder of this season. What disappoints me is that I had been so much stronger on the "training rides" of the previous weekends than on the actual day of the event. Perhaps there's a lesson there somewhere, and it's something I need to think about. On reflection I'll probably go ahead with the 400k at the end of this month -- even if only to prove something to myself. I know within myself that I'm still capable of doing these longer rides, I just need the ingredients to be there to nail one, and I'll have the confidence to finish them off.