DAY 4
97.7 miles to go.

All of the days start to blur together. Even as I look over my journal and notes trying to type up these posts, I'm doubting that the things I wrote actually happened on the days that I wrote them. I no longer believe in the concept of time.

So - apparently, although there are no witnesses, I woke up early on Day 4 so I could to go Chiro and have my shoulders taped up to help me maintain posture and avoid the whole pinched nerve thing I was dealing with on Day 3.

I rode out at 7:18am.

Day 4 is a loooong day because it's almost a hundred miles and because there are some extra special stops along the route. It was a warm morning and I felt great getting on my bike.

It was like 20 miles to Rest Stop 1, which was at an old ranchy type place. Please enjoy this picture of me with some farm equipment.
After this stop come the "Evil Twins"which are two hills - so yous climb 2000 feet and then coast down 1000 feet and then climb back up to 2000 feet. Again, because I'm pretty bad ass, I didn't feel that these hills were very tough. Just hills.

Plus . . . at the crest of the second hill you come to the most magical sign in the entire world and the best view of the entire ride.

And if being halfway home isn't good enough, you might get stuck in the sign line (waiting to take your picture) with a fairly attractive fellow from San Fransisco who you think is perfect for Sunny.

And if talking to unicorns isn't good enough, at the top of the hill there were also Flamingos.


And if Flamingos are not enough, there is also Brownie Lady. I Love Brownie Lady.


And if Brownie Lady isn't enough to make you happy, there is a condom man interviewing a biker.

And if condom man isn't enough there is a 7 mile downhill after this stop.

Honest to Pete.

On the downhill, my line unicorn got a flat tire. I tried to stop and help him but I almost caused a major accident so I didn't stop. After that he wouldn't talk to me. So basically, I'm sorry Sunny. I should have fallen over to find you love and I failed.

Blah blah blah . . . more rest stops . . . blah blah blah . . . here is me looking a bit tired at lunch . . . . but I more like this picture because of the positioning of the people in the background . . . hehehe. (yup, I'm 12.)


At this point all my notes say is:

Post lunch: Hell & Love. Heartburn & Fatigue.

:)

I can only assume I was starting to get a little tired.

OF course who cares about riding anyway - my purpose in life was fulfilled when I made it here:


to eat this:


with Julie, a kind kind kind woman who wanted to share.

I shit you not, if you are EVER in your life in Pismo Beach, go here. Eat one of these. You can get them any way you want. I'm not saying my life is complete or anything . . . okay, yes I am. I'm literally saying that if some horrible illness or tragedy were to end my life tomorrow, I would die happy having had the opportunity to eat this cinnamon roll. It was that good.

So . . . maybe it was the sugar crash or maybe it was the fact that I'd already been on my bike for over 9 hours . . . or maybe it was the heartburn or the bike seat heat blisters . . . but after the roll stop, I was an unhappy camper. And I knew it. For several miles, I would try and think of things to post on Twitter when I got into camp and everything I came up with was just negative. This hurts, that's sore, this sucks, I hate wind, and so on and so forth. I rolled into rest stop 4 feeling dizzy and sad and I wanted to quit.

Of course, FAIL is not an option. So the next logical thing to do was realize that there was no one around to listen to me bitch and no one on Twitter wanted to hear it either . . . so I should change my attitude.

I literally spend the last 20 miles of the ride repeating to myself "I refuse to believe that my mental toughness has limits" in rhythm with my pedaling. Just one positive phrase, over and over and over and over for almost two hours. And. Shocker. I made it to camp, no problem. I didn't have to give up. I didn't faint. I didn't get blown over by the crosswinds.

Stupid mind, always trying to bring me down. Silly, negative thought patterns. You are so profoundly useless.

Camp was thus a much happier place.

See how happy my tent looks?


And check out all these people making inappropriate use of a Frolf hole.


I called Granny B, who was having a lonely day. I pretty much lied to my grandmother and told her that I was road tripping down the coast with some friends. It's okay though, when I finally confessed after I was home safe and showed her all the pictures she told me she was glad she didn't know I was biking at the time :)

The back half of Day 4 was really when everything turned. I was having a blast riding up until then but I could tell that my body was simply running out of energy. I was exhausted and my muscles were not recovering as easily. I was losing speed and starting to lose mental focus. The notes get hazy and at some point after the cinnamon rolls, I just wanted to go home. It was now about getting home.