I'm not sure, but I think I feel horrible. Nothing interesting today, folks, if ever there was in the first place.
I'm in Tillamook, OR. I rode the slowest 70 miles of my life to get here. I couldn't find my legs for the first 45 miles or so. Odd how the legs just decide to start working when they feel like it on days after big rides. The day I got hit by a car last year followed a century day, I didn't find my legs until after 55 miles. I remember sending Cara a text saying something like "I'm finally moving fast!" Then about 10 miles later, 3 miles from the finish, I got my shit fucked. But it was one of the best days of my life. C'est la vie.
Anyway, they've got cheese here in Tillamook. It's very good, but I ate, no exaggeration, a quarter pound of squeaky cheese, which is probably the cause of my feeling horrible. Packed with calcium and squeak, but a squeaky tummy is not a healthy one, even if such toys make great baby shower gifts.
On kinder notes, the Pacific is beautiful. A few times today I thought, "I don't want to do this anymore," right before cresting a ridge to see exactly why I should keep going. Even so, things would be better if they were sunny and warm and I had a friend to talk to. Of course, that's a rule for life in general, not just for the road.
Cheer up, grumpy bear. At least you've got one thing you love!
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This is Kendra fyi, and I don't think you're cheating. I'm also seriously jealous as I've been too chicken to ride the roads around here (southern vermont!) I'll find the bravery soon!
On another note, it'll take you awhile to find your legs, and even then you'll still have good days and bad days - like life.
The alone part kind of sucks, but maybe it's a good thing for you to be alone right now. I mean, you're such a people person, maybe you can learn from the solitude about who you are and who you want to be.
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