A few gen'rl thoughts:
Apologies for not being able to blog-a-bunch, especially through the last week. AT&T's lack of rural coverage aside, time is a very measurable commodity out there. Writing just didn't fit into my survival equation, and towards the end of the race, the pressure to keep moving or die a slow death begins to ramp up. To push my fatigued booty to Silver City, which in turn would set me up for a 120 mile final day to Antelope Wells, I needed an 18 hour effort. Follow this up with 5 hours rest to get a nighttime head start on the desert heat, and you gotta wonder when I could eat, nevermind write!
On a job yesterday, two men were telling me how they run 30 minutes every day. I chuckled and never mentioned what I'd just done. I think they are smarter than me.
It is amazing how resilient the body can be. Not just mine, but all my fellow racers. Over and over, I would put in huge daily efforts that would knock me comatose for days if I were riding at home. But there's no lollygaggin' allowed out there. Some of my best days on the bike immediately followed my worst days. In fact, after one of my worst TD mornings, I reset the ol' brain and delivered one of my best afternoons! Well, Dr. Pepper gets a little credit too.
I would also see fellow racers out on the course dying a slow death. "Oh geez," I would say to myself, "How sad to see this guy's tour end like this." Every one of these racers held it together and finished. Never count yourself out!
Did I want to quit? Yes, at least twice. If the Magic Sag Wagon o' Mercy appeared, I think I would have jumped in and had a beer. Quitting times though, they are so remote that you have no choice but to move on and get out! Once out, the past is gone, a meal is ordered, and the plan for the next day is hatched. A ten-minute minor miracle! Move on! The Tour can slam you senseless, but it also gives you endless opportunities to get back on track.
The only thing I never did was quit. Move forward, pedal, walk, take another drink, but move forward. How can you not finish if you keep moving?
I don't know how I am this lucky, but the only ailment I fought with was a generally sore tush, and that was pretty much gone after the first week. Now at home I am aware of a loss of sensitivity in my big toes. All that pedal pressure has to hit somewhere. That's it though. The scale shows I gained two pounds. That's all the wrappered pies I suppose.
The race is advertised as "Self-Supported", but this is highly contextual. The reality is that unless you are a hermit, you can't do this event without a strong system in place at home. Some cyclists are near hermits, but still... Of course, without the network of commercial services available along the route, the race would never happen. In a self-supported race, it's all too obvious that you can't complete it without available support, you just have to pay for it, and it can't come out and find you!
The closer to the finish I got, the more likely I would hear the following instant reaction from strangers: "You're crazy!" Wait, NOW I'm crazy? I'm almost there dag-nabbit! Every one of us is a little crazy somewhere, this is just one of the places I let it loose.
More notes, for the racer, later.
JP
