…or heat exhaustion
One foot, two feet, then one foot. Suddenly, the gap was three feet. We were inside the last eight of 30 miles. I dug deep to stay on the back wheel of the fifth man in the pack, but came up short as soon as we hit the slightest of gradients. I fell off, marveling at the difference inches make. When I was tucked safely in the slipstream of the rider with the sleeveless white jersey, I was struggling, but stable. Cranking up the hill, I watched the inches between us grow into feet and finally into a distance I could no longer calculate. My young friend Aaron dragged the veterans away, taking a long and strong pull at the front. I was proud, and settled in comfortably with the chase group.
Tucked in behind Aaron, waiting for my next pull, June 2008
I have finally built up enough confidence to ride with a group and returned to them on Wednesday for my second visit, this time for a 30-mile ride downtown in the 105 degree heat of a summer afternoon. I knew it would be a quick haul, so I hydrated diligently and brought a secret weapon – a person obligated to let me draft him. Aaron, a compatriot on last summer’s bike trip, is doing a summer internship in San Antonio and brought his bike. I wanted to make sure he didn’t miss out on our unique cycling conditions: humid, cloudless and unrelentingly hot.
Aaron spent many days last year pulling my slow butt across the deserts of California, mountains of Colorado, plains of Oklahoma and swamps of Louisiana. At 18, he was a steady, strong rider and always a patient, encouraging presence. For a few miles on Wednesday, he nobly took up the duty once more. It was a real pleasure to ride together again, especially since we were going three to four mph faster than we used to. I said nothing when he rocketed away with the lead riders at the end of the day. It was where he belonged.
I finally saw Aaron again riding in circles about 300 meters from the parking lot. I sat up to wave and cruise in, but the ride leader called back, “Sprint finish!”
“I don’t think I have it in me,” said the guy next to me.
“I probably don’t,” I replied with a grin. Then I stepped on the gas.
It was FUN, until I got off the bike. To barf or not to barf? I would have felt so much better, but I didn’t want anyone to see me retching purple Powerade after my first big group ride. I decided that fighting mortal embarrassment would be harder than fighting heat exhaustion, so I crouched down, put my head between me knees, and sipped water until I could stand without blacking out.
I’ve only been truly hungover once in my life, and it was on red wine. The heat exhaustion was equally miserable. But through the pain and delirium, I was well aware of how much fun I’d had – and of how I am not yet acclimated to south Texas summers. But I will go back. It was too good not to go back.
3 responses so far ↓
suitcaseofcourage // July 13, 2009 at 5:37 pm |
Heh – we’ve all been there at one point or another MV. Just another rite of passage. I’ll never forget the first “training session” I had with my buddy in his basement. I sprinted so hard at the end (on a *trainer* mind you – %^) that I spent the next 1/2 hour, um, indisposed. But that’s what training does for you – lets you know where your (current) limits are.
That said, I know I wouldn’t have had the nerve to try what you did in that heat. Despite growing up in the South, I can’t stand it when the mercury rises.
Though the recent 60 degree days here are a little ridiculous for July.
Sounds like the new group is working out well – Ride Safe!
William // July 14, 2009 at 1:46 am |
Way to go Katherine! Group rides are the best type of training. I remember my first group rides with UW cycling, I was constantly getting dropped. After a couple of weeks I was strong enough to stay with the group.
Daily Blog and News Roundup for July 13th « Texbiker.net // July 14, 2009 at 4:09 am |
[...] It’s just a flesh wound « two wheels. one love. no rush. by 10thousandfeet The heat exhaustion was equally miserable. But through the pain and delirium, I was well aware of how much fun I’d had – and of how I am not yet acclimated to south Texas summers. But I will go back. It was too good not to go back. … [...]