I can see the headlines now; Fuzzy Foreigner Conquers the Highest Peak in Florida. Broadcast companies across all media will pick up the story. It will be minute 1 of my infamous, lucky 15. I will be the star of the television, the Internet's golden boy and radio's most talked about athlete. People will begin to forget the likes of Lance Armstrong and Michael Phelps. Michael who? Exactly. They will then learn that this monumental occasion, this pinnacle of my existence, this huge feat, was a 308ft mole hill. Sugarloaf Mountain; a mountainous misnomer. In this world of hyperbole, my instant celebrity will abruptly end, the endorsement offers will cease and I will no longer be a mainstay on Good Morning America, the Today Show or Regis & Kelly. Children around the word will take my poster of their walls, the shirts with my face & intellectually stimulating yet humorous quotes will be burned, my statues in Ottawa, Washington and London will fall. Quite frankly, the world will stop spinning.Needless to say, I will not be sending the press release about my last training session in Clermont, FL. The hills of Clermont committed a quad destructing assault on my legs, but man was it fun. There is something to be said about the rolling hills of central Florida and Clermont's Horrible Hundred. My only concern was the constant looming threat of the Deliverance banjo.
I set out Saturday afternoon to tackle the Horrible Hundred, a 100 mile (really!?!) ride through the hills of Clermont. This was an overly grand ambition for two reasons; 1. I have been nursing a low back injury for about 2 weeks now. That's right, 6 weeks from Ironman Canada, with over a year invested in training and preparation, I hurt myself lifting weights. Poor little me. 2. It is called the Horrible Hundred for a reason. It's freakin' hilly. There is not a single flat spot in the whole of Clermont or Lake County for that matter. In fact, I think if you looked close enough you would notice the water running out of the lakes down into the towns below. Seriously, go look, I'll wait.
Sadly, the horrible hundred turned into a 4-degrees-less-than-horrible-65. It was a very long, very hot 65. Amidst the leg spasms, the dehydration, and the pain you feel after 4hrs on the bike I had a great deal of fun. Hill climbing is an extremely painful experience, between the lactic acid build up, your legs burning, your lungs being on fire, and the fact that you are only traveling 8mph, it's tough. It is all worth it though; reaching the top elicits a powerful feeling of personal achievement. A couple of times, when reaching the peak, I let out a ferocious roar of victory. That's perfectly normal, right?
Here's to going 49.5mph. . . Cheers!
(yes, downhill)
