|Brekky in the morning before our ride: trying not to think about how many of these goodies on the table we'll have to eat.|
|This baby doesn't lie: the temperature over 7 hours of riding.|
|This is what our goodies turned into. Normally jube-like lollies, they melted into a slimy gunk.|
Except for us and the 4 other cyclists we saw along the way (2 of them also in training for IMNZ). The cafes were empty.
The other was a girl who was sitting in the gutter, almost passed out but with a huge grin shining through her beetroot-red face as she yelled out "Are we CRAZY?!" to both of us as we passed her at different times (we were riding by ourselves today, to get used to doing it on race day).
The other was a 70-year old man who was on a 200km ride, and therefore was officially crazy.
But it was the heat that got us in the end. Within metres of pedalling off we were already sipping on our bidons (our bikes have capacity for 2 at a time, so we need to refill each time we can), a wall of heat accompanying us the whole way as it warmed up our bidons to the point where we couldn't drink the contents. Luckily the cafes are spaced perfectly apart (about 20km) so that we'd be refilling our empties constantly (we drank 18 bidons each, plus countless cokes and icecreams - about 12 or 13 litres of fluids).
In the end we cut our day short (after 7hrs we still hadn't reached 180km). Even the stubborn pair of us knew it was pushing it to stay out there longer.
|Simi 'rescued' me at 160kms. I was thankful for this because the cafes were all closing (taking the free water supply with them!). She later told me she was going to puncture my tyres if I didn't get in the car.|
|Delirium had long since set in. We were excited about our frozen cokes, only minutes away by car.|