Dead.

I am dead. The ride today was the most hellish experience on a bike ever. Met up at 9 with some of Madison's finest riders. 10-12 miles in I get dropped. Dead. Somehow keep trucking, even convincing myself towards New Glarus instead of back to Madison at the Madison turn. See the group about a minute ahead and chase for another 10 miles, on roads I don't know. Finally someone in the group has a flat. Back on. 5 miles later we stop in New Glarus for snacks. Back to Madison Mark, or with the group to some town like Blanchardville or something. We head onward. I get dropped on the next hill, they wait for me we ride again. We are now like 35 miles in. Next big climb I get dropped. Against the wind. They wait up, I catch up, they go, I get dropped, Jerry and Stephen come back, I say I can get home from here we start to climb, they go, I fade, 15 seconds after last talking to Jerry I flat. I go to the side of the road and watch them all climb away. I decide to fix my flat and ride it back. I get the tire changed and inflated. I release my CO2 valve and it tears the core off of my bike. Guh. I call Jess. She drives almost one hour to get me. One of my worst days on the bike, my legs are fried...my mind is fried. Burnt out after one ride? Yes. I used to think I was hell on wheels, but today the day was hell on wheels. 45 in the spring seems warm until you sit on the pavement for an hour. Badgers win and it's dodgeball time. Not really anxious to ride my bike.

The group went almost 100 miles for 5.5 hours and I guess it was really fun. Oh to be that in shape and be that good.