Sunday found us en route to Gainesville for a ride through the hills. Saturday night was a lovely evening with friends that included much birthday cake and wine, so I wasn't at my best perhaps, Sunday morning, in addition to being sore from the tri Saturday morning.
Nevertheless, I insisted we go down, and boy was it a doozy of a training day. The fun part to start was taking I-10 down, which had us driving through the small towns of Waldo and Stark, which if nothing else it always entertaining. Where else can you buy a life-sized statue of Jesus and walk across the street and visit the area's only 24-hour store, which happens to be an adult novelty warehouse?
We got into Gainesville and parked near one of the birding trails. It was a heck of a day. Within the first 10 miles there was a fairly large hill that I pushed myself far too hard up, and pretty much blew out my legs. I did for another 5 miles or so when we crested the top of the one of a stretch of rolling hills, and I saw a hill that looked San-Francisco sized. I kept pedaling but started hyperventilating. E led us into a neighborhood so I could collect myself. It's the first time I can ever remember seeing something that I just didn't think I could accomplish. That hill looked massive, like I needed Alberto Contador-style quads to make it up that hill. So I stopped, I said I wanted to go back the way we came, which just made me feel like a failure. I never give up like that; if nothing else, I'm far too stubborn.
E talked me into at least going at looking at the hill, which upon further inspection was not quite the Telegraph Hill proportions I thought it was. So I went up. Very, very slowly. And I went through traffic lights and left-hands turns, all in all a very intense training day, and one that led to me being sore all over, but very glad I did it. And VERY glad for today's rest day.
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