It is 3:45 a.m. on a Sunday morning and the temperature has dropped into the 30s. The sweat pouring out of me would freeze to my helmet strap if I wasn’t giving off heat like a glass blower’s furnace. I have been pedaling way over my lactic threshold for the past 20 minutes riding like a scared rabbit being chased by a pack of angry coyotes. Our team is fighting hard to maintain that 3rd place position on the podium.
While thoughts should be focused on how to reel in the team in front of us, the doubt is creeping in… can I hang on? How much more will my legs take? Where is that big rut that almost killed me on the last lap? This is lap number 14 at the 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo bike race and I am fighting hard for my four-person single speed team.