Barely awake in Missoula, Montana, I’m attempting to recount last night’s mountain bike race—a venture that didn’t pan out as planned. Overlooked the importance of rest, especially after a 100-mile race and some surgery.
Kicked off the race alongside two speedy competitors, tackling an 1100-foot climb. It’s tougher than you’d think. My heart raced at 173 bpm, but soon, my lungs were on fire, leading to a coughing fit. My body hit its limit and forced me to slow down, letting riders I usually outpace easily zoom past, making me look like a newbie.
The second lap went somewhat better after expelling a good deal of phlegm, thanks to the dusty roads of the 100-miler, and I reduced my pace to 160 bpm. The climb felt smoother, and I nearly caught up. However, the treacherous downhill, more suitable for a downhill specialist, caused a few errors, and I crossed the finish line feeling defeated.
Boneshakerbike 
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