Sweater Project

“Am I ‘hurting’ right now?”

I kept rolling that thought around in my head yesterday around 4:30 in the afternoon. I was on FM 2696 on the homeward leg of a 40-mile out-and-back loop. My original plan for the day had been to get up at 6:00, drive to Boerne Town Lake and do the 50-mile Tall Texan Triathlon bike course. I was going to get an early start to avoid the 95° heat we were expecting. But when the alarm went of in the morning, I knew that my body wasn’t ready to get moving yet. This week has been pretty stressful at work, and I just needed more sack time. So I fell back asleep and awoke again at 11:00. I felt much better.

But I still wanted to get a long ride in. So I suited up, had a power bar, checked my bike and took off from my apartment to ride to Bulverde and back. By the time I left, it was 1:30 in the afternoon. I knew this was a stupid thing to do, but I was bound and determined to get in a long ride.

On the way out I headed through a little town called Hollywood Park that lies right next to the area where I live. Hollywood Park is a really nice neighborhood with lots of trees and beautiful houses and no commercial developments. But it has this thing with deer. I don’t think I’ve ever ridden through there without spying at least three deer. They are everywhere, and it’s become a bit of a problem for the people who like them, but don’t want them devouring everything in their gardens.

Because the deer are so common, they get a lot of people time and they don’t spook very easily, even at the sight of a lycra-clad fool on a bicycle. Which is why I was able to get this photo:

I had to move slowly around her, but she had no problem posing for me.

I got out of that neighborhood and onto 2696 for the trek out to Bulverde. Along the way I started to appreciate how hot it really was. Africa hot, as they say. I had three packets of energy gel and a Camelbak full of water, which I was drinking liberally. I think I drank about six litres of fluid over the entire ride. As I crested a hill and looked out at the landscape, I was very thankful that I knew where there were stores where I could re-fill on water. Without that knowledge, a view like this could be pretty daunting:

That was the terrain I was riding through, for the most part. There was one very nice stretch along a mostly dried-up riverbed where I saw a Crested Cara-Cara, but unfortunately it was too skittish for me to get a picture of. I saw all sorts of other interesting things, including this fellow whom I dubbed Captain America. He was out testing a vintage WWII D-Day invasion motorcycle. I didn’t get a really close picture of it, but this bike was in pristine condition. He must have had it packed in grease for the last few decades and just cleaned it up.

I really appreciated the fact that he was willing to dismount and let me get a shot of the other side of the bike considering how hot it was.

Not long after running into the Cap’n, I arrived in Bulverde. Much to my delight, they were having a farmer’s market. I got off my bike and clumsily clomped around in my road shoes, looking into the booths and sampling the wares. I tasted some really wonderful goat cheese made up in Seguin and some barbecued salmon covered in candied walnuts. I had no idea the farmers in Bulverde were so fancy.

I really wanted to buy some of the goat cheese, some brisket and some fresh vegetables for dinner, but there was no way I could transport them home. Maybe next weekend. So I got on my bike and headed back home.

As I was climbing up a hill on the way back, I started thinking about the word “hurt”. My butt definitely hurt. I felt pain there. But the rest of me? My legs were tiring, but I wasn’t getting any cramps. My neck was getting stiff but it didn’t really “hurt”. And my whole body was overheating. Three quarters up the hill, I felt that I’d stopped sweating. As I crested it, I felt my self shivering a little. I drank more water and poured some down my back. On the downhill side I had a gentle headwind which helped cool me down more. I thought about the limits of the language I was thinking in. I was dangerously close to heat stroke, but the word “hurt” really didn’t apply to my condition. It’s a quibble, I know, but this train of thought was really fascinating at the time. I wasn’t too worried, because I knew there was a convenience store about two miles down the road.

I got there and went into the air conditioning and sat down on a stack of Coke twelve-packs. I stayed there, staring at a sack of Friskies cat food until I started sweating. Then I sat there a little longer. I stocked up on more water, downed a power drink, rinsed some of the salt off my face in the bathroom and then headed back. The rest of the ride was pretty uneventful. I saw some more lovely deer in Hollywood Park. And finally, I was home. It was 5:30. I’d been out for four hours in the hottest part of the day and very nearly given myself heat stroke.

Well, I’ve got a better idea of where my limits are now. And that’s the first step in expandng them.

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 19th, 2005 at 11:45 am and is filed under Cycling. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.