I manage a reasonable start - mainly because I have reverted back to my shitty diet...time to find out how long I can go on white bread and carrab syrup. I have to confess to feeling dizzy after the first hour. Damn Stu for ruining me with proper food - now my body craves the missing nutrition.
Head wind again today - but not so strong and so I'm able to enjoy the ride. More than my fair share of cay stops..seems I make up for the lack of nutrition with caffeine. Oddly more than my fair share of dog chases too...wonder if there's a link there.
At around lunch I stop for a (particularly scenic) wild poo. As I'm doing my do I happen to notice a rash on the inside of my thighs. Gross - yes. The result of muchos cycling, not washing or changing clothes - yes. I had been aware of soreness, but having cycled a sniff off five thousand miles I'm beginning to ignore arse based pain. I waddle back up to the bike ( much like how a child only cries once a bloody wound is noticed). I pull a stick of lip balm from my handle bar bag. It says moisturising and blah blah blah on it - so I figure it'll do the trick. In the five minutes it takes me to get me gloves on and layer up the heat from my crotch is perhaps on a par with the fires of hell. Lip balm, it seems, is not the answer.
Once back on the bike I'm able to put the pain somewhere else and get on with riding. Dubstep podcasts boost me up the long climb towards Sushili. At a water stop I notice a crack on the Bob trailer - could spell very bad news! But holding up so far....
Just before I find my bed for the night I witness the extraordinary burst of pace of an adult male Kangal dog – this dog was fast! Had I not been shitting myself and peddling like all fury I might have liked to stop and appreciate the scene. Fin.
Mmm, menthol on open wounds-- niiiice...
ReplyDelete