Yesterday I rode a metric century. 62 miles. I pedaled that bike for five and a half hours, with two breaks.
I set up a pointless ordeal for myself, that served no purpose but to test if I could overcome it. Additionally, the organizers lie, it was actually 63 miles. I wasn't really sure I'd make it, the last 20 miles were just brutality. My back hurt, my crotch hurt, my quads were rubbery and had that slow burn that announces imminent failure, especially on the hills. I almost cried with relief when I saw the finish line banner.
Today, I rode thirty two miles. The things I do for fun...
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