Glenwood to Atlantic, IA

With less than an hour of sleep, I crawled out of my sweat box feeling like death-warmed over.  I stumbled over to the house and sat in line with the rest of the weary peeps to brush my teeth before quickly hurrying back to tear down the tent and choke down some energy gel. 

I was so scared that my hands were shaking.  I was afraid that everyone was light years more talented than me.  I was afraid everyone had infinitely more stamina that I did.  I was scared I would get lost or get a flat tire or just flat out not be able to make it.  What was going to happen then?  How was this all going to unfold?  What on earth made me ever think that this was something I was going to be able to achieve?  With a shakey voice, I bravely told Katie that she could go ahead without me if I was holding her back.  She nodded but reassured me that we would stay together.

We started slow. I was doing it.  My bike wheels were moving and I was pedaling.  I had scared myself into certain immobility yet my wheels did infact spin.  I saw other people biking around me.  I could do this.  The crowd was massive.  Thousands of people were sharing the road at once and biking within inches of each other.  It was awesome and the early morning sun with the fog and the backdrop of corn fields was something I wanted to breathe into my soul forever.  I felt like I was in a dream.  This was beautiful.

But only a few minutes into the ride, we saw the first hill and it was a beast!  I was feeling strong and went for it excitedly.  With my angel hair noodle legs though, I quickly realized that hills were not my thing. We rounded a corner and saw a dozen more, each one bigger than the next.  Katie was starting to pull away from me and my legs were already getting tired but thankfully, she waited for me to catch up every couple of miles.  We must have only been about 10 miles in and I had at least 60 more to go. 

The further along the route we got, the worse the hills were getting.  I had never seen these kind of rolling hills before.  They were more like mountains.  Katie and I stopped around mile 20 and ate pancakes.  The break was awesome but it was hot as balls outside.  We knew we had to hit it in order to avoid the intense heat of the afternoon. 

We stopped for lunch around mile 30; our bodies screaming for calories. I was starting to get a handle on things.  It was tough, but I was really loving the little towns with all the food vendors and more than anything, I was enjoying the people of Iowa.  They were all so sweet and so awesomely supportive.  People would line the roads to watch us and to cheer us on with decorated posters.  All the grandmas had made pie and baked goods for the riders, and everywhere you went, you could hear lawnmower engines that had been turned into homemade icecream makers. I was totally in love with Iowa.

But when we got back on our bikes this time, my leg muscles were so tight and the hills weren't stopping.  At the next town, it was even worse.  I was done.  My legs were starting to quit on me, and all I could do was encourage them to hang on.  It got to the point where you didn't even want to stop for fear that you might not be able to start again. 

Katie got a flat tire that day too.  I was so impressed that she was able to change it all by herself.  I documented the moment by taking pictures.  We stopped at one last town for more massive calorie consumption and to see the world's largest bicycle.

Eventually, we made it into Atlantic.  My hams were shredded and I needed a walker.  I laid on the grass for awhile just to try and regain a normal body temperature although with temperatures well over 100, I didn't know if that was even possible. All I wanted was a shower.

The showers were a problem.  For $5, we got to stand in line for well over an hour, sweating our ass off, only to have less than five minutes under a hose behind a tarp that flapped in the wind.  There was almost zero point to getting clean since you'd immediately start sweating profusely again in the intense heat.  And without any makeup, those Iowan farmers probably felt the need to shove a stick up my ass and use me as a scarecrow.

That night we stayed on the lawn of a retirement home and they offered a lasagna dinner for $5 which was awesome since we didn't have to walk anywhere.  We sat in the dining room for hours just trying to stay cool in the air-conditioning.  We stalked the outside of the building for an outlet to charge our phones.

I was so tired that falling asleep in my oven of a tent, wasn't going to be a problem.  However, there was no way I was going to be able to get up at 5:30am and do it all over again (let alone for 6 more days in a row).  I started panicking.  I knew that physically, I just couldn't make it.  Thankfully, because of the extreme heat and hills, a large group of riders on our team felt the same way that I did and asked to skip Tuesday's ride.  I gratefully signed up to skip that day too.  I was so relieved that I could have floated away. 

I slept like a (sweaty) baby that night.