I’ve been in bed most of the time I’ve been back from the ride. And my body still thinks it’s running from predators. It demands food every two hours and constant watering. I kind of like the frequent feasting.

When I have gone out it’s to summer workdays where cars and people crowd at corners and everyone is following a schedule. I am not on any schedule and enjoy feeling like an imposter. I actually get to where I’m going and they are always stuck in the same place. Except for bicyclists. I covet their commutes. I want a job in a big building somewhere so I can buy a mountain bike and rush down the hill each morning wearing a tank top and mary janes. That won’t happen soon, as it turns out.

But even with my knees still tender, little knots in my back, and the palm numb (though less so), when I see a bicyclist on the road, I want to be there too. I’m ready to go again. Now that I know how to ride a century, I want to go everywhere.

(But it’s good driving around, too, listening to music loud and cruising up hills without the sweat.)

The STP taught me how to manage distance, stopping every 20 to 25 miles to rest and eat and also to refill water bottles. It also taught me how to manage pain. The inflammation in my knee began around mile 100. Despite applying ice to it that evening and eating ibuprofen, it did not recover by the next morning. When I started out, it hurt like hell and I crept along, especially when pedaling uphill. (An old guy on a mountain bike, whom I’d just passed going downhill, caught up to me on the uphill and started asking about my bike. I told him it’s like riding on glass, it’s such a solid machine, but that I’m afraid my knees can’t keep up with it.) At the first stop of the morning I got some ice from the first aid station and spent twenty minutes icing my knee. I also ate 600mg more of ibuprofen. At every stop thereafter I spent twenty minutes icing the knee, and it worked. I made it through.

Today I talked to Pam to see how she is: if she has been as tired, what hurts, etc. She told me that two people we know who were on the ride were involved in a bad collision. In a paceline Sunday, 15 miles before the finish, one of the guys hit the other, lost control of his bike and went down, cracking the composite frame and stripping the derailleur from the bike. He ended up in the ER, along with the guy riding behind him, who shattered his helmet on the pavement. The thing is, those guys had no business riding in a paceline with people they didn't know among a group of riders exhibiting a range of experience from beginner to racer. It was dangerous for everyone in the vicinity.)

Another project waits on the desk. I called and got the deadline extended by two days because I’ve been too exhausted to start working on it. Besides, I have other work to do, too.

Tomorrow.