My husband's mountain bike that I had been training on was probably designed for rougher, more demanding terrain. It was woefully inadequate for the flat, tarmacked surface of the race. Cyclist after cyclist over took me and all I could do was huff more, puff more and grow more dispirited with every turn of the wheel. It took me close to an hour to do the 4 laps around the lake. Coming in to the transition area, I saw all the other bikes from the group that had started with me already racked in place. When I lifted my own bike to join them on the shelf, I wondered if I would be the last one to finish. Somebody had to and it could well be me. But not until I still had some breath in my lungs. I was going to give it all I got for the last leg.
(To be concluded...)