Time for a mid race gonzo report.
Monday morning was frightful. I slept horribly, plagued by a barking dog and stomach cramps, nausea, bloating and eventually an urgent, toe stubbing, cold sweat stumble towards the bathroom for a series of emergency evacuations that had me lamenting that the guest house only had single ply.
Not a good start.
At 4am I gave up on sleep entirely and chased the 2 immodium, 1 valoid and 20 drops of iberogast cocktail with my usual pre-race oat, peanutbutter and honey smoothie, gingerly got into my lycra, folded a wad of backup singleplay into my phone cover and noodled through the streets of Wellington up to the start at Kleinevallei.
By the time I got there I was sweating like a Tsumo wrestler in a sauna and to make matters worse the smoothie had worked its way through the plumbing in record time and muttering about Strade Bianca and motivated by the biological emergency in my lower abdomen I risked the 200 meters of loose sand road to the bathroom slightly faster than was comfortable.
It was locked.
I avoided a solo quest into the pre-dawn vineyard by standing in an 11 minute queue for a 2 berth portapotty trailer that rocked disconcertingly on it's suspension in response to any movement by the occupant of the other toilet.
Ablutions complete and gastric distress settling into an uncomfortable bloated feeling, I popped another Immodium, forced 500 ml of ice water and electrolyte down my unwiliing throat.
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The open group is smaller than previous years - there are only about 30 of us. However the proper racing groups look a little larger. There's a visiting german team in the women's elite competition and a few other very fast looking people. I think @Jbris here and smashing the juniors (30 to39 is junior to me). (I wouldn't recognise him but I think I recoognise the initials on the results sheet).
In the opens there are 3 or 4 famiiar faces and we greeted and complimented each other on the year's strava rides since last year's tour. I guiltily shook hands with those who offered their hands. I converted one or 2 into fist bumps. I'm a germophobe myself but the thought of possibly passing on what is obviously a variant of the bug that has plagued cape town in recent weeks to the visitors from PE, Gauteng, Belgium and Germany was on my mind.
I chugged an expensive but amazing Amacx gel 5 minutes before the start and instructed my stomach to absorb it immediately and to leave nothing behind to put strain on any of my now quite skittish sphincter muscles.
The Stage was OK - I got dropped on the right turn just before the pass before Tulbagh and then me and 6 others congratulated ourselves for chasing back on just before Tulbagh (turned out the lead group was neutralised as punishment for drafting the ebike that was part of the peleton) but it didn't matter because we all got shelled again as soon as the neutralisation ended.
I didn't mind getting dropped too much. I was just pleased not to have had to stop to fertilise a farmer's field. Nutrition was a challenge. I opted to stick to the drink gel in my water bottles, and other gels over bars. Any sugar that hit my system precipitated more tender bloating ....
agh, all of this is Mamil excuses. I limped up Bain's, reflecting that I felt better the last time I rode it which was in the closing kilomters of the Munga.
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Tuesday was the Time trial. Stomach still not good, although less distressed than on Monday.
I told @peetwindhoekwho started 2 places in front of me (How on earth did I finish ahead of him in Stage 1???) that if I caught him I was going to boast about it in a lengthy brag session on Bikehub.
I saw steel in his eye that told me he had decided that wasn't going to happen.
It didn't - he put about 3 minutes into me, finishing 30 seconds faster than my 30 minute PR from last year and I trailed behind that effort by more than 2 minutes.
I struggled along doing Zone 3 watts with Zone 5 HR with every part of my body in rebellious protest. As Wesley, one of last year's riders, who himself is leaner, and stronger than ever said, "Sometimes you're the dog, sometimes you're the tree" and "The check engine light was on".
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And today, stage 3, the only climb was Bothma's. As usual, the groupetto came together on the downhill and little risers towards Malmesbury and we gunned along to the finish together in a co-operative fashion.
Tummy still tender and not 100% but at least I could hold vo2 max watts for a reasonable amount of time, and force a few gels and bars in without too much discomfort.
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2 more big stages to go - if I transmitted this lergy to anyone else, it might start paying dividends for me in Stages 3 and 4. I thought about giving the yellow jersey in the opens (an English visitor from Singapore) a "soen groet" but to quote the bard ".... thus conscience makes cowards of us all".