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My speed was about three miles an hour and I was permanently stuck in my granny gear. I could have actually done with some extra gears. It felt like the toughest f***ing climb I've ever done. |
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It seemed an eternity passed before reaching the two kilometre marker. Now only eleven percent grade.
"Eleven f***ing percent?", I screamed at the hill. I passed a overheated car that had passed me a few minutes earlier. A few other cars passed me and by this stage I was cursing everything loudly. My head was a mess.
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I finally get to the summit which turns out to be just another bloody viewpoint overlooking some bloody mountains. I got more water, washed the sweat of my face and ate the last of my dried apricots, bananas and chocolate. The road dropped pleasantly for a few minutes then gradually turned into the relatively short two kilometre climb to Col de Burdinkurutz. The descent was truly incredible. The road hung along the side of a ridge for a while with clear views of the valley below. Very fast again and it was easy to get to speeds of seventy kilometres per hour again. |
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I got to town at seven and still couldn't find anywhere for food. It was the last of my plain rice for dinner. Plain rice and Nutella followed for desert. Not the most nutritiously satisfying meals I've had. |
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Andrew, the English cyclist, was again in the campground and we swapped our sorry stories. He'd skipped today's Cols but was planning on making up for it tomorrow by heading back into Spain to do to more Cols. He's got me thinking of throwing in my relatively easy day tomorrow in order to do the same. The downhills are calling me. |
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My right hip now aches because my right leg is doing most of the work. My back feels like it's out of alignment because my right hip aches. My neck hurts because my back feels out of alignment. I'm getting headaches because my neck hurts. The voices in my head are telling me to kill people because of my headaches.
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