Cycling 7:44:00  101.0 mi (13.1 mph)
The ALMANZO 100. One of the hardest days I've had on the bike. 90 degree heat, dry, and 20mph steady wind from the south.
Started out strong for the first two hours, across the 33rd mile in 1:57. Then the heat started to wear on the field, and on me. I brought 70 ounces of water on board. I had about 15 remaining at the 40 mile mark, but I felt ok. Left the 40 mile mark in maybe 50th of the 550 riders. But as I continued to fight fluids down (my mouth was dry and my legs getting weaker, so I knew I needed to drink) my stomach went south.
I was out of Gatorade. I had Nuun, but did not remember to bring my salt tabs (not sure if they would have helped but I would have like to try). By the 60 mile marker I was hurting badly, but able to push a decent ring into the wind and up hills. Not enough to stop from getting passed and hook onto the stronger riders that were coming through, but close.
It was not much help to draft. Usually drafting is helpful in all cardinal directions. On this day it was only one. The wind was so strong that downwind there was no resistance (20-25 mph steady, so we'd ride 25 and overheat in the still calm). In the cross winds, the draft was horizontal, which on asphalt, is still a good draft. But on gravel, there is only a narrow band of ridable road. Outside of where the cars' tires go the road is loose and difficult to stay upright upon. So, you have to choose the draft and a chance at crashing hard, or the good road and no draft. So going South was the only helpful drafting direction, and we did most of our going south in the first 25 miles.
I went to wrong way for about a half mile, and then turned around and corrected.
After mile 70 I was feeling really sick. My stomach was not happy. I wanted to quit. I was riding alone. I was nearing 6 hours, the time in which I was done last time (I was 24th last time) and I knew I had about two hours of 90 degree heat ahead of me. I was hungry but couldn't get much down. I was dehydrated but my tepid hose refill water was not appealing to my wrenching stomach.
I labored on despite constantly thinking about quitting. Likely because I didn't have much of a choice. The next 30 miles were a humbling blur. It hurt all the way to the line. Crossed in 7:44. I don't know what place I was, probably in the middle.
I went through 180 ounces of water, finished dehydrated, and never peed.
Strangely, I felt really good to finish. I was really proud that I did not give up. I felt a huge high for the rest of the day. One of those "you have to hit bottom to feel the top" type of things. I won't forget how much it hurt, and I'm not sure I'll do another one soon, but getting it done is something I'm proud of.